CHAPTER 4

Chapter 4

Lena dozed in the circle of Marcus’s arm, the gray shirt twisted around her waist, with one bare leg thrown over his. The deep ache between her thighs had settled into a low, constant throb—proof of how thoroughly he had already used her. She woke fully when his hand slid under the hem of the shirt and cupped her breast, his thumb brushing the nipple into a tight peak.

“Still with me,” he said.

“Yes.”

He sat up, pulling her with him until she straddled his lap. The shirt rode higher. His cock is already hard again, he pressed it against the bare heat of her. He did not enter her yet. Instead he held her hips still and looked at her face as if measuring something.

“I have a rule in this loft,” he said. “When you’re here, you don’t hide anything. Not your body. Not what you want. Not what you’re afraid of.”

Lena’s pulse quickened. “And if I break it?”

“Then I correct you.” His hands tightened. “Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Say it.”

“I understand.”

Marcus reached behind him, opened the wooden chest again, and withdrew a slim leather paddle, dark and well-worn. He set it on the sheet beside them. Lena’s breath caught. He watched the reaction move through her—fear, curiosity, the sharp spike of heat that made her clench around nothing.

“Stand up. Take the shirt off. Bend over the edge of the bed. Hands flat on the mattress.”ass high, legs slightly apart. Cool air touched the wetness already gathering between her thighs. Marcus rose and stood behind her. One warm palm stroked over the curve of each cheek, then down the backs of her thighs.

“You took everything last night and this morning without complaint,” he said. “That earns you this. I’m going to warm you first. Then I’m going to fuck you while the sting is still fresh.”

The first strike landed with a sharp crack. Heat bloomed across her right cheek. Lena jerked but kept her hands planted. The second followed on the left, equal force. He settled into a steady rhythm—left, right, overlapping—until both sides burned and her skin felt tight and hypersensitive. Between strikes his free hand slipped between her legs, two fingers pushing into her, checking how wet she had become. She was soaked. He made a low sound of approval and continued.

By the time he stopped her ass throbbed in time with her heartbeat. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, not from pain alone but from the strange, raw openness the pain had carved into her. Marcus set the paddle aside. He gripped both cheeks, spreading her, and drove into her in one brutal thrust. The sudden fullness combined with the stinging skin tore a cry from her throat. He fucked her hard and deep, each impact of his hips against her burning flesh sending fresh sparks through her.

“This is what you came for,” he growled. “Not soft. Not careful. This.”

She could only moan in answer. He reached around her clit, and rubbed it to his thrusts. The dual assault—sting, stretch, relentless friction—pushed her over the edge fast. She came hard, shaking, walls clamping around him. He did not slow. He kept driving into her through the climax and beyond it, chasing his own. When he finished he buried himself to the hilt and flooded her, grinding deep so she felt every pulse.

He stayed inside a moment longer, breathing against the back of her neck, then pulled free. His cum slipped down one thigh. He turned her, lifted her onto the bed, and arranged her on her back with her knees bent and spread. The position left her open and the marked in her ass is still pink, cum leaking from her.

Marcus stood at the foot of the bed and looked at her for a long, quiet stretch. Then he climbed up, settled between her thighs, and lowered his mouth to her. He licked her clean with slow, thorough strokes, his tongue pushing inside to gather what he had left, his lips sealed around her swollen folds. The sensitivity after the paddling and the hard fucking made every pass of his tongue almost too much. She tried to close her legs; he held them open with firm hands and kept going until a second, sharper orgasm ripped through her. She cried out, with hands fisting the sheets.

Only then did he rise, wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, and stretch out beside her. One heavy thigh draped over hers. His fingers traced idle patterns on the still-hot skin of her ass.

“You didn’t ask me to stop,” he said.

“I didn’t want you to.”

He nodded as if that confirmed something. Silence settled between them, broken only by the distant city sounds filtering through the glass. After a while he spoke again with a tire voice.

“I built this loft so I could have a place where nothing is polite. No small talk. No careful touches. Just the truth of what two bodies can do to each other when no one is watching.” His hand moved to her stomach, resting there. “Most people who come here leave before morning. You stayed. That changes the rules.”

Lena turned her head to look at him. “How?”

“It means I get to keep you longer. It means I get to find out how much you can take before you break—and whether you want me to put you back together afterward.”

The words settled over her like another kind of heat. She shifted closer, pressing her face into the curve of his neck. His pulse beat steady against her lips.

Marcus rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him so she straddled his hips again. He was already hardening beneath her. He did not enter her yet. Instead he guided her hands to his chest and held them there.

“Ride me,” he said. “Slowly. I want to watch your face while you take what you need.”

Lena lifted up, reached between them, and sank down onto him inch by inch. The stretch was familiar now and still overwhelming. She planted her hands on his chest and began to move—rising and falling in a measured rhythm, grinding down on every descent so the base of him pressed against her clit. He let her set the pace, his eyes locked on hers, his hands steady on her hips but not controlling. The freedom felt almost more intense than the earlier restraint. She fucked herself on him until the coil tightened again, then tighter. When she came she did it looking straight at him, his mouth was open and a broken sound was spilling out. He thrust up hard twice more and followed, filling her while his fingers dug into her flesh.

She collapsed forward onto his chest. His arms closed around her. For a long time they stayed like that breathing the same air.

Eventually he spoke against her hair. “There’s food in the refrigerator. Real food this time. After we eat I’m taking you to the shower again. Then I’m going to put you on your hands and knees on the floor and take my time.”

Lena lifted her head just enough to meet his eyes. “And after that?”

A faint, almost dangerous smile touched his mouth. “After that we see how the evening light looks on your skin while I decide what else I want from you tonight.”

She rested her cheek against his chest again. Outside the afternoon continued its slow decline toward dusk. Inside the loft the air remained heavy with the scent of sex and the quiet certainty that the day was nowhere near finished with them.

Her body already ached for the next round.