Deep End

by Ali Hazelwood

He kisses the corners of my eyes, licking away this delicious pain he is giving. I’ve never felt so hollow. “Please,” I beg. I’m a mess of quivers and aftershocks, trying to burrow into him. His arms and voice are the only things holding me together. “Not yet,” he says, kind and firm and everything I’ve ever craved. I just didn’t know that someone’s voice could be at once tender and cruel-edged. “You can take some more. My good girl.”

He breathes me in. Tells me how good I feel under him. Soft. Pretty—a ridiculous word that has me arching closer. “I should stretch you out with my fingers, before,” he says, the rumble of his chest vibrating against my breast. “How I usually do it. Barest courtesy. But with you, I’m not going to. I’m going to make you take me without.”

“Too much?” he asks. I nod, a little desperately. He halts, pulling out a bit. Instant panic spreads through my stomach. I didn’t say stop. I didn’t ask him to stop. We agreed that he wouldn’t— “That’s too bad,” he says, his voice at once mean and fond, like he contains every multitude I’ll ever need. “Since you’ll take what I fucking give you.” He rocks back inside, knocking any sense of self out of me. My entire body tightens around him, around his words, and I think that maybe I’m—“Oh, sweetheart. Already? Just from this?”

“Am I doing it right? This whole…thing.” He knows exactly what I’m asking, but he continues shaking out my skirt. His reply is unrushed. “I don’t know if it’s right, but this is…” His mouth flattens. “You are exactly what I wanted.” The

The tentative Lukas of a minute ago is gone. I stare up at him and can only say, “Please.” “Please, what? Please, stop?” I shake my head. “Please, make me come?” I bite my lower lip, suddenly embarrassed. “Please, fuck me? In your sore little cunt?”

“Deeper,” I beg. “All the way.” “Not this time.” His teeth close around my earlobe, a threat, a mean little warning. I moan. “Quiet. You’ll take what you’re given and thank me for it. Won’t you, baby?”