Thirty Days To Ruin

Chapter 6: Full, Sore, Marked

Alexander stayed buried inside her for a long time after he finished, the heavy weight of his body pressing Elena into the mattress. His c**k twitched with the last fading pulses of his release. She could feel every thick throb, the way their combined mess leaked slowly around him and down the cleft of her ass onto the sheets. His forehead rested against hers. Their breathing slowly synced.

When he finally pulled out, the sudden emptiness made her whimper. A thick rush of c*m followed, warm and slippery. He watched it for a moment, then reached down and pushed two fingers back inside her, scooping the mess deeper.

“Stay open for me,” he murmured. “I want it to keep leaking while I get what I need.”

He left her lying there, legs still spread, and walked naked across the room. Elena heard a drawer open. When he returned he carried a set of black leather cuffs lined with soft padding, a short chain, and a slim black paddle. Her pulse jumped.

“Wrists.”

She offered them without hesitation. He buckled the cuffs snugly, then clipped the short chain between them so her hands were held together in front of her. The leather was cool at first, then warmed against her skin. He guided her off the bed and toward a low padded bench near the window. The city stretched out far below them, sunlight pouring across the floor.

“Bend over. Hands on the bench. Ass up.”

Elena obeyed. The position left her completely exposed—back arched, thighs slightly parted, the slow drip of his earlier release still sliding down her inner thighs. Alexander’s palm stroked over the curve of her ass, still faintly pink from the morning’s spanking.

“Count them,” he said.

The first strike of the paddle landed with a sharp, solid *crack*. Heat bloomed across her right cheek. She sucked in a breath.

“One.”

The second struck the left side. The sting was brighter this time.

“Two.”

He built a steady rhythm, alternating sides, never hitting the same spot twice in a row. Each impact sent a jolt straight to her c**t. The wet sound of her arousal growing more obvious mixed with the sharp slap of leather on skin. By the tenth strike her ass burned hot and her thighs were trembling. c*m and fresh wetness dripped freely onto the floor between her feet.

“Ten,” she whispered, voice shaking.

Alexander set the paddle aside and smoothed both palms over the heated flesh, spreading the sting. Then he dropped to his knees behind her. The first long, slow lick from her c**t all the way up through her folds made her cry out. He ate her like he was starving—tongue pushing into her used hole, sucking the swollen bud of her c**t, lapping up every drop that leaked from her. The wet, hungry sounds of his mouth filled the quiet room. Her chained hands clenched against the bench.

He brought her right to the edge and stopped.

“Not yet.”

He stood, lined his c**k up, and drove into her in one deep thrust. The stretch was immediate and overwhelming. He f****d her hard and steady from behind, one hand fisted in her hair, the other gripping her hip. The wet slap of his hips against her sore ass echoed through the penthouse. Every thrust forced more of their earlier mess out around his c**k, the slick sounds growing louder and filthier.

“You’re so f*****g full of me,” he growled. “I can feel it every time I push in. You’re dripping down my balls.”

Elena came hard around him, walls fluttering and clenching. He didn’t stop. He kept the same relentless pace through her orgasm until she was whimpering from overstimulation, then pulled out suddenly. The sudden emptiness made her moan in protest.

He turned her around, sat on the edge of the bench, and guided her down onto his lap so she straddled him facing the window. The city lights glittered far below. He held the chain between her cuffs and forced her wrists behind his neck, locking her against his chest. Then he lifted her hips and sank her down onto his c**k in one smooth motion.

“Ride,” he ordered.

Elena moved. The new angle let him go impossibly deep. She rose and sank, the wet, rhythmic sound of her p***y sliding up and down his thick length filling the air between them. Her sore ass stung every time she seated herself fully. Alexander’s hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, helping her bounce harder, faster. He leaned in and sucked one n****e into his mouth, teeth grazing, while she rode him.

The dual sensation pushed her over the edge again. She came with a broken cry, clenching around him. He followed almost immediately, burying himself to the hilt and pulsing deep inside her once more. Hot floods of his release filled her. She collapsed against his chest, shaking, the chain of the cuffs still locked behind his neck.

Alexander held her there, still buried inside her, one hand stroking slowly up and down her spine.

“Breathe,” he murmured. “You’re doing so well. Taking everything I give you.”

After a long moment he unclipped the chain and removed the cuffs, kissing the faint red marks on her wrists. He carried her back to the bed, laid her down, and cleaned her gently with a warm cloth—thorough, almost tender. Then he stretched out beside her and pulled her against his chest.

For the first time since she woke, the weight of the diagnosis pressed back in. Elena’s voice was quiet when she finally spoke.

“What if the doctors were right? What if I really only have a month?”

Alexander’s arm tightened around her. His voice was low and absolute against her hair.

“Then I’ll spend every hour of it inside you, making sure the last thing this body remembers is how thoroughly it belonged to me. But I don’t believe them. Tomorrow we start making calls. Today you’re mine to ruin properly.”

His hand slid between her thighs again, fingers gently stroking through the fresh mess he had left inside her.

“Rest for a little while,” he said. “When you wake up, I’m putting you on your back and making you come until you can’t remember your own name.”

Elena’s eyes drifted shut, body sore, full, marked, and already aching for whatever came next.