Chapter 123 Punish Me, Father
He groaned, his hips movement faltering for the first time. “Fuck. You’re dangerous, Baron.”
“Then ruin me,” I pleaded. “Make sure I never forget. Fuck me until I can’t walk. Until I can’t think about anything but your cock.”
He let go of my hair and both hands digging into my hips, fingers holding on hard enough to leave marks. He pounded into me with renewed vigor, relentless in his chase.
“You want to be marked?” he growled. “You want to feel me for days?”
“Yes. God, yes. Bruise me. Fill me. Make it hurt tomorrow when I sit in the pews. Make me remember every second of this.”
His breathing turned ragged. “You’re going to feel me tomorrow. Every time you move. Every time you kneel to pray. You’re going to ache and you’re going to get hard thinking about why.”
“I already do,” I gasped. “I’m hard just thinking about it. About you owning me. About you coming inside me again.”
He leaned down, chest pressed to my back, his mouth right beside my ear. “Then take it. Take every fucking inch. Take what you came here for.”
I moaned, broken and loud, not giving a fuck who heard. “Give it to me. Please. Come in me. Mark me as yours.”
He thrust once, twice, then buried himself deep with a growl. “Fuckkk. Baron.”
I felt him pulse, hot and thick, flooding me again and again. His hands on my hips tightened painfully as he emptied his cum inside me, hips grinding against my ass like he wanted to crawl under my skin.
To become one.
Even after I had taken every last bit of his cum, he stayed buried in my ass, breathing hard against my neck.
“You’re full of me now,” he murmured, voice wrecked. “Twice in one day. You’re dripping with it. Dripping with sin.”
I whimpered, still impossibly hard, body trembling on the edge.
He pulled out slowly. I whined at the loss, feeling the warm trail of his cum leak down my thighs.
He stepped back. I heard the sound of cloth being worn as he tucked himself away, buckling his belt.
“Don’t move,” he said. “Stay exactly like that.”
I stayed bent over the desk, ass up, legs shaking, cum dripping steadily onto the floor. My cock throbbed, untouched by him.
He walked around the desk until he was in front of me, then tilted my jaws up with two fingers. I looked up at him through my lashes.
“You haven’t come yet,” he observed quietly.
“No, Father.”
“Good.” He dragged his thumb across my swollen bottom lip. “What if I said you don’t get to come tonight? That that's your real punishment. You get to stay hard. Aching. Remembering exactly why you shouldn’t have come back here.”
I made a broken sound in my throat. “Please…”
“No.” His voice was final. “Or how about you go back to your room like this. Hard. Leaking. Full of me. And you’d lie there in the dark thinking about how much you want to touch yourself. But you wouldn’t. Because if you did, if you disobeyed again, I’ll make sure the next time hurts so much more.”
I whimpered, the sound whiny in the night.
He raises a brow. “Oh. You like the idea of that?”
“Fuck. No Father- Yes Father.” I stuttered out.
“You can't seem to decide. Should I choose for you? Or will you beg like the sinner that you are?” He asked, his fingers trailing my lips.
“Please Father. I broke your rule. I need your punishment.” I whispered against his hands, my tongue darting out to lick the tip of his fingers.
“Please.”