Bride by Sara Fields

Chapter 2

Iwasn’t ready for that.

For a moment, silence reigned and then the terrible agony between my thighs bloomed. The lacey fabric gripped at my tender folds, pinching and scraping them as he tore the panties away. The hardest part was when the cloth punished my clit, already so sensitive from his rough touch.

My knees knocked together as I struggled to take it. I shrieked noisily, and he chuckled softly behind me, the effect of his laughter intensifying my anxiety that much more.

“My my, Zoe. With that mouth, you would think I was killing you,” he began. I opened my lips to give him a piece of my mind, but he shoved my panties right in my mouth. “You protest, sweet girl, but there was a wet spot on your panties for me. Surely you can taste your own arousal on your tongue.”

I went to spit them out, but he was ready for that. Swiftly, he wound his tie around my head, securing the makeshift gag inside my mouth as he knotted it behind my head. I struggled on the desk, screaming into the fabric, and that’s when I realized that he was right. There was a musky sweet flavor seeping across my mouth. I swallowed hard, realizing that it could be only one thing.

He kicked my feet apart again, making me spread my thighs. Despite the fact that he’d torn my panties clean off, my skirt was still in place. I pressed my palms flat against the desk and closed my eyes, forced to face the fact that my panties were wet, my pussy had been wet—was still wet—and I could feel all of it. I could feel my arousal beginning to drip down my legs, and for the first time I was grateful that he couldn’t see my face.

I shouldn’t be reacting like this. I shouldn’t be aroused by this.

I shouldn’t be thinking about what it would feel like to have his cock deep inside me instead. I didn’t recognize myself.

I stilled. I stopped fighting. Instead, I just lay against the desk and tried to come to terms with the fact that there was a very dark part of me that I’d never known existed before.

“I want you to listen to what I’m about to say, Zoe,” he began, and I couldn’t ignore the way my clit throbbed with need at the possessiveness in his tone.

His palm cupped my bottom, squeezing it tight enough to hurt just the slightest bit.

“I’m going to spank you and then I’m going to fuck you. It’s not a punishment for slapping me or even for all the insults you hurled my way. It isn’t for any of that because you didn’t know any better when you did it. You’re going to get a spanking because you need to understand your place going forward, as my property and my bride,” he continued. “If you’re a very good girl, I might even allow you to enjoy it.”

What? His bride?

He couldn’t be serious. This had to be a joke. Some cruel deranged joke for some sick reality show. This couldn’t be real.

His hand gathered the fabric of my skirt, slowly pulling it up. I was too shellshocked to move and I hated myself for it. I wanted to throw him off. Something. Anything, but I did nothing.

Instead, I just felt the thick cloth of my skirt rising, baring the backs of my thighs inch by inch until he reached the lower curve of my backside. He didn’t stop there either. He kept pulling it up until the entirety of my bottom was bare.

He’d be able to see everything.

He carefully gathered the fabric and pinned it beneath the hand that was holding me against the desk. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t react.

Was I weak?

Why couldn’t I do anything?

“Just as beautiful as I imagined you’d be, my sweet bride,” he murmured.

There it was again. Bride. Why did he keep calling me that and why did it keep making my core tighten with desire?

He was looking at me. I could feel it. He was looking at the backs of my legs, at the wetness dripping down my thighs, at the folds of my pussy and everything else. I turned my head and gasped into the panties in my mouth. It came out sounding more like a moan than anything else and my mortification deepened.

Something was wrong with me. Seriously wrong.

Maybe I should be committed.

His fingers touched my left cheek, sliding along the lower curve until they just grazed my inner thighs. His fingertips slid along them, and I realized that my fears were true. My wetness had dripped onto my legs, and he’d just found the evidence of it.

For the first time, I was grateful for the panties in my mouth because it meant that I didn’t have to say anything at all.

His hand explored more until it slid right in between my wet folds. I cried out as he discovered just how wet I was for him. His silence was the worst part. I don’t know why I suddenly cared what he thought of me. Would he think I was broken? Would he think I was sick?

My legs trembled. Two fingertips found my clit and circled it gently. Once, then twice, and my heart went wild in my chest as electric tendrils of pleasure raced up and down my limbs.

I wasn’t supposed to like this. I shouldn’t.

His evil fingers continued to play my body, strumming against my clit, and for the first time my hips rocked against him. I hadn’t meant to. I hadn’t wanted to either, but I could quickly feel myself losing control of my body and I didn’t quite know how to get it back.

A single digit slipped over my entrance. I gasped and he slid it all the way inside me. My pussy clenched around him, again and again in shock and desire. He pumped it in and out of me before he pulled it out and drew his hand away.

It returned a second later, only his wet finger was pressed against my bottom hole.

I stiffened. I wanted to tell him to stop. I tried to reach back to push his hands away, but that only resulted in him capturing my wrists behind my back.

Much to my dismay, he returned his attentions to my bottom hole.

I clenched the muscles of my bottom, but his finger was wet, and he was stronger than me. That single finger breached my tight hole, and I was taken aback by the pain that followed.

No one had ever touched me there before. I hadn’t even touched myself like this before.

I wasn’t prepared for the burning, stretching sensation or the way that pain hurtled up and down my spine before settling deep in my core. For several long moments, I struggled to draw in air and think of anything other than his finger in my bottom, but then the stinging hurt began to recede and something else followed.

Blazing hot arousal simmered through every inch of my body and there was no containing it.

He pushed his finger in deeper, past the first knuckle, and I felt every last inch of it. When I tightened around him, the pain worsened for several moments until I forced myself to relax again. Roughly, he pumped that digit in and out of my bottom.

Shamefully, I lifted my hips to meet his sordid thrusts.

Fuck. Why did that feel so good?

I’d had sex before. Plain old boring sex, but I’d never wanted to come from penetration, and this was only his finger inside of me. The only way I’d ever had an orgasm was with my trusty little bullet vibrator between my legs. I’d faked all the others.

I had a feeling that I’d never have to fake anything with Grayson Asher.

“One day, I’m going to fuck this pretty little bottom hole simply because I can,” he murmured, and a jolt of electricity sizzled right to my clit. My pussy clenched tight and so did my bottom, eliciting a delighted and rather malicious sounding chuckle from his lips. He leaned over me and brushed his lips against my ear. “Do you want to know something, my sweet?”

I cried out into the fabric of my panties.

“I’ve been watching your little pussy this whole time. You became much, much wetter when I touched this little virgin bottom hole for the very first time,” he purred.

How did he know no one had ever touched me there? I wanted to hide. I wanted a black hole to open up and swallow me whole. I shouldn’t get wetter. Him touching me there felt dirty and so filthy that it had to be wrong.

Then why was it turning me on?

He slipped his finger from my bottom, leaving me to grapple with the terrifying realization that getting fingered in my ass had made me aroused enough to want more. I knew what a cock in my pussy felt like, but what would it feel like in my bottom hole? Would I like it? Would it hurt just as much as his finger had?

“Your bottom is gorgeous, Zoe. It’s going to be even more beautiful when I spank it bright red and then mark it with my belt,” he mused.

I’d gotten so caught up in the feeling of his finger violating my bottom hole that I’d forgotten all about his initial threat. I squirmed a bit against the desk and his grip around my wrists tightened, holding me in place.

His other hand returned to my backside, cupping my right bottom cheek.

“I’m going to enjoy this very much, Zoe. It is my firm belief that a wife needs to be reminded of her place with a bright red bottom from time to time, and I’m looking forward to doing exactly that, both over my desk and over my knee, many, many times to come,” he growled, and I whimpered into my panties, tasting my own arousal once again.

I tried to lift myself up and his hand slapped against my ass for the first time.

It didn’t hurt. Not at first. In fact, the most jarring thing was how loud it was. It was loud enough to rival a gunshot, or at least that’s what it felt like, and before I knew it another followed on the other side.

He paused and traced over the area he’d smacked.

“Watching the very first shades of pink blossom on your bottom for the first time is something I’m going to cherish for a very long time, bride,” he observed, and I tried to press my thighs together to hide just how much his words continued to arouse me. He didn’t allow it.

A third spank cracked against my bottom and that’s when it started to hurt. He started spanking me more quickly now. His palm was broad, and with every smack the sting started to build. At first, it was simply warm, punctuated by hard cracks of his hand against my skin. As the spanking went on, though, that warmth built, becoming hotter until it truly began to burn.

The feeling of his palm against my bottom was so intimate, so domestic that my core twisted hard with desire. It was punishing, but at the same time it was so very, very arousing.

My pussy clenched down hard as he spanked me harder. It stung even more, a blazing fire that swiftly spread across the entirety of my backside the longer it went on.

I wanted to tell him to stop.

I wanted to tell him to spank me harder.

I didn’t do either.

His palm punished every inch of my bottom, from the upper parts of my cheeks to the lower curves of my ass, all the way down to the tops of my thighs. For several terribly long moments, he focused on my thighs. Those hurt the most, the sting building faster than all the rest. The more he smacked there, the more I began to fear that he actually meant to punish me.

I wanted to beg for mercy, but the taste of my own arousal was still fresh on my tongue.

He released my hands.

“Put your hands in front of you,” he commanded softly, and I could have sworn I felt each word pulse in my bones. Hesitantly I pulled my hands forward, knowing I couldn’t quite reach the other side of his desk. I elected to pull my arms under my chest instead.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

My heart pounded and a pulse of arousal zinged my clit.

“Such a wet little pussy on a very pretty girl with a very pink bottom. I wonder how much wetter it’ll get when her bottom is bright red,” he added.

My pussy clenched tight, and I whined in shame, wondering if he could see how much of an effect his words were having on me. My embarrassment only seemed to intensify my arousal, and when he returned to spanking me I almost welcomed it.

This time, his palm was harder. I felt it deeper, every smack reverberating across my bottom and settling deep in my core. With each one, my inner walls clenched greedily, desperately aching to be filled and somewhere something inside me clicked.

The pain became pleasurable.

Each smack stung hot at first, but the blissful desire that followed overwhelmed the hurt. I lifted my bottom and his smacks caught the lower curve of it.

“That’s it. Show me that bright red bottom,” he encouraged, and without thinking I arched my back and presented myself to him.

“So very beautiful. Your bottom was made for this, bride,” he mused. For several moments he studied me, dragging his nails over my punished skin, making me gasp with need.

“Hold on, sweet girl. I want this ass redder, so I should warn you this next part is going to hurt,” he said darkly, but there was a definitive aroused edge to his voice now too.

His hand pressed more firmly down against my lower back, holding me in place securely before his palm crashed down onto my backside.

He’d been holding back before. I’m not sure how many times he spanked me, but each one hurt as much as the last. I couldn’t keep quiet, and I stopped trying by the fifth or sixth one. Over and over he spanked me until every last inch of my bottom felt like it was on fire, and when he finally paused once more I was left gasping for air even as my hips rocked back and forth.

His fingers descended between my legs, examining me.

I knew what he’d find. I was even more soaked than before. If he decided to fuck me right now, he’d be able to enter me with ease.

He pressed his pelvis against me, and there was no mistaking what I felt next. He was hard. Very hard and that wasn’t all. Although hidden by the fabric of his pants, I could tell that he was big, bigger than anyone I’d ever felt before. I swallowed with trepidation.

His hand possessively grabbed my ass, squeezing tight enough to border on painful before he released it quickly. My backside jiggled just the slightest bit, forcing me to focus on the needy little pussy between my legs that was crying out for attention.

I turned my head and looked back at him. His dark chocolate eyes bored into mine and I watched as he reached down and unbuckled his belt. I looked down, unable to take my eyes off of it as he pulled it free from the loops of his slacks. It made a gentle swishing noise and my pussy clenched unbecomingly and I didn’t quite understand why.

The leather was black and well-worn in. It was not shiny but a dull matte color that was beautiful in its own way. He noticed my interest and laid it by my head.

“Run your fingers along my belt, sweet girl. As you touch it, I want you to think about how it’s going to feel when I mark your bottom with it,” he coaxed.

My insides did a nervous little flip and I raised my gaze to meet his, caught in a mixture of fear and curiosity that held me utterly captive. I reached for it. The leather was soft, like suede. I gripped it and pulled it close, suddenly awash in the scent of the tanned hide.

He was going to smack my bottom with that.

I looked at it and then back to him.

I should be angrier. I shouldn’t be this wet and I shouldn’t want to beg for his hard cock between my thighs. I shouldn’t want to orgasm for him.

I should want to run out that door.

Why didn’t I?

I slid the belt back to him across the desk. He looked at me with extreme interest and an ever-darkening gaze of desire. His hand returned to my bottom, gliding across my scalded flesh with intention.

“Raise your bottom for me,” he instructed.

Something inside me made me obey. Maybe if I took the belt like a good girl, he’d fuck me and make me come.

What the actual fuck was wrong with me?

I arched my hips upward and I heard the belt swing through the air before I felt it. His palm had hurt, but part of me had enjoyed its painful bite. The belt was different. The belt was like fire from the very start. He lashed me with it hard and fast. Each time it slapped against my skin, it burned hot, blazing hotter with every one. He started at the tops of my cheeks and slowly descended to thrash the backs of my thighs. I cried out into the panties in my mouth.

Oh, this hurt. This hurt more than I thought it would.

I squirmed on top of the desk, trying to turn my hips and avoid that deep painful lash, but his palm held me more firmly against the desk. Right now, I was left with the terrifying realization that he was in control.

I’m not sure at what point I’d lost control. Maybe it had been the moment I’d walked into his office. Maybe it had been the minute I’d walked into the building.

I didn’t know.

All that mattered now was that terrible piece of leather lashing my backside. It swung surely and steadily, meeting my ass over and over again with cruel intention. Its painful bite was more thorough than his palm, fiercer and more brutal and much more intense. I didn’t know how many times he was going to spank me with it and that made it much more terrifying, but at the same time, something even more powerful began to emerge.

My desire rose from the fire like a phoenix coming to life.

I began to embrace it in all that it was.

After the first initial volley, he paused, and I sucked in a pained breath. The deep sting reverberated across my bottom for several long moments, but then his fingers returned to soothe my scalded flesh and the hurt started to dissipate. His fingertips traced along a few of the welts I felt rising on my skin, and I breathed through it, trying to quell the pounding beat of my heart in my chest.

“This bottom is just as beautiful as I thought it would be spanked bright red and marked with my belt,” he murmured.

His words made my body warm, tingling with appreciation like I’d never felt before.

“Stay over the desk. I want to admire you,” he said softly. His palm lifted from the center of my back, and I heard him take a few steps back. I couldn’t see him, but I knew his eyes were on my skin. I could feel it.

I liked it.

I found myself arching my back and absentmindedly spreading my thighs just a little bit wider. No man had ever looked at me like this. No one had called me beautiful like he had, and it was doing strange things to me. It was making me want more.

He reached for me, admiring the marks he’d left behind. His touch was like a bolt of electricity. I gasped into my sodden panties, his fingers eliciting pain and pleasure just like his belt had done.

“Your ass was made to take my belt, sweet bride,” he murmured, and I heard his zipper behind me. I keened nervously, but he didn’t force himself into me. At least, not yet.

The heat of his thick cock pressed against my left bottom cheek. He leaned over me and untied his tie before he tossed it aside on his desk. Then he pulled the panties from my mouth.

“Do you feel how hard I am for you, sweet girl?” he asked.

“Yes,” I finally whimpered, my voice hoarse and a bit timid from misuse.

One hand slinked into the hair at the back of my head and he clutched it tight, pulling my head back just a little bit. The effect of the blossom of pain was immediate, causing my pussy to clench violently with need.

“Do you like that you’ve made me this hard, sweet bride?”

I opened and closed my mouth, unsure of what to say. I knew the truth, that I did like that I made him this hard, but I didn’t want to tell him that.

I lied.

“No,” I said hoarsely, and he chuckled. He maneuvered his hips between mine and slid his cock along my pussy. It was so long that the head of it nestled over top of my clit. The heat of it pressing against my needy bud was the most tempting thing I’d ever felt. I tried to stay still. I tried not to react, but he didn’t give me a choice.

He moved for me.

He stroked his solid and very hard length against my clit as his hands grasped my waist. His movements were steady, slow, and sure. I squirmed to try to avoid him, which only made it worse. Soon, the only thing I could think about was his cock against my thighs and how very much I wanted to come right on top of it.

His fingers dug into my hips, but I no longer felt them.

A strangled moan fell from my lips.

“You were a very good girl for your spanking and your belting, weren’t you, Zoe?” he asked.

Oh. Fuck. I wanted his cock inside me.

I fidgeted a bit more, trying to angle my hips so that his cock might slip inside me, but he had control and he wasn’t about to hand it over to me just like that.

“Answer me, pretty bride,” he warned.

“Yes!” I whined.

“I’m going to correct you just this once, Zoe. When you’re being reminded of your place, you will refer to me properly as sir,” he corrected.

God. Why did my clit throb with need so heavily at his words?

“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice almost inaudible. I could feel the heaviness of desire in my breasts, the tightening of my nipples in my bra and the throbbing of my arousal between my legs.

He leaned forward and growled in my ear. I moaned out loud at the sound.

“I said I was going to fuck you, didn’t I?” he whispered.

“Yes, sir,” I gasped.

“I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to wait. I’m going to wait for our wedding night to take you for the very first time,” he announced, and I cried out, my hips shamefully jerking against his cock.

“Please,” I begged before I could stop the word from falling off my lips.

I was so aroused. So angry. So terrified. So incredibly needy.

“Do you think you deserve to come for me, little girl?” he asked.

A strangled whine of need escaped my lips.

“You walked in here a proud businesswoman, but here you are bent over my desk with your bare bottom on display, bright red and marked from my belt, with your soaking wet pussy pressed against my cock,” he added.

I clamped my mouth shut, afraid that I might beg him to fuck me.

“Do you think you’ve been taught a lesson about your place, my pretty bride?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” I whispered anxiously. My pussy tightened down hard, and my clit pulsed endlessly. Would he deny me this after what he’d done?

He leaned upward, lazily stroking my clit with the shaft of his cock. I whimpered, the sound something between a cry and a moan.

“I don’t think so, Zoe. I think there’s one more thing you need to learn as my bride,” he mused.

I stilled nervously. I was missing something, and I wasn’t quite sure what. Did he want to put me over his knee? Would he thrash me more with his belt?

His movements became more persistent. Harder. A bit faster. Like he was forcing me to orgasm, and somewhere deep inside me I hoped that he would. All of my focus was quickly consumed by the needy bud between my thighs, and I cried out with need. My cries became deeper, more desperate, wanting, and I tried not to think about how it sounded. Instead, I just felt what I was meant to feel.

My pleasure built, intensifying with every passing second. At first, I tried to fight it, but the way his cock was stroking my clit was masterful. It was thick and hard, and my arousal made his movements slick against me. Soon enough, I was writhing beneath him, riding his cock as he continued to stroke me with it, taking what he gave me because it felt so impossibly good.

My core twisted hard, and my thighs quivered just the slightest bit. I wanted to fight the pleasure that was swirling within me, but I knew it was a losing battle. If this continued for much longer, I was going to orgasm on top of his cock. To be honest, right now I was desperate enough to want to.

I keened. I was so close.

“Please. I’m going to come, sir,” I pleaded. I moaned, my breath hitching in the back of my throat, and then all at once he pulled away from me.

The painful edge of denial was sharp. He’d forced me right to the cusp of orgasm and taken away his touch at the last second. My core twisted in on itself, feeling as though the stinging pricks of barbed wire were digging into me, and I gasped out loud, the sound harsh.

“No!” I cried.

“Perhaps it would be more effective to teach you your place by leaving you desperately wet and needy for my cock, knowing you’ll have to wait to earn it until our wedding night,” he murmured, and my pussy nearly convulsed at his words.

I heard the sound of his zipper behind me, followed by the sound of the threading of his belt. I was too embarrassed to stand just yet, not that I was sure I would even be able to. My legs felt like jelly, but most of all I didn’t want him to see the heated blush that was all over my face.

His touch glanced along my hip, and I could feel his eyes on me once more. He reached between my legs and captured my clit in his fingers.

“You will not touch yourself after I leave the room, my pretty bride. I want this pussy wet and needy for when I fuck it hard tonight,” he warned, and with that he pinched my clit hard. Already impossibly sensitive, his punishing fingers sent a hard and painful message. He expected obedience from me. I’m not sure what he would do if I disobeyed him, but I was sure that it would hurt. When he finally released my clit, I breathed a sigh of relief as the pain slowly receded, but a gentle ache remained.

I wouldn’t forget that warning.

His hand fell away from my body, and I watched him walk around the desk. He walked down the hall, turned the corner, and I heard the sliding door after that.