Page 31 of Forgive Me, Father (Don #1)

TWENTY-SEVEN

THE LITTLE RUNAWAY

It felt like Alfonso dragged it out of me for eons. Just as I thought I was about to come, he would bestow another type of pain on my body.

I was flogged, burned with wax, nipples, skin and pussy clamped, needles pressing into places I never thought I’d endure, prodded, paddled, and became a human canvas for him to do as he pleased.

My mind screamed for him to stop, but my body betrayed me once again, responding in ways I couldn’t control.

My pussy was dripping wet, and completely messed with my head as I didn’t know whether I wanted more or to run away.

All I knew was that I felt like a human pin cushion.

I swear I felt a paper cut close to my breast. The sting hit first, sharp and sudden, followed by the slow, unmistakable sensation of something warm trailing down my skin.

I didn’t know if it was more wax, water, or blood.

It didn’t dry like wax, so it was either blood from the cut or water to ease the pain.

I endured one after another, each strike coming faster than the last. The stinging that followed was, at times, unbearable.

I hated paper cuts. But I also knew it wasn’t paper that made this cut.

A growl left Alfonso’s lips, and I cried out as his tongue darted against my clit. I had no concept of time, but it felt as if hours had passed.

He would stop abruptly, and I would beg him with more grunts. My jaw felt stretched beyond what I could handle due to the ball tightly placed in my mouth.

He left again.

My body was tired.

Everything ached and pulsed. And I was frustrated that I didn’t come. I wanted to so badly, but the pain made it hard.

He returned with more flogging, but this time, it felt different.

Sharper. Like what I imagined a whip might feel like.

I grunted with each sharp sting, the tiny pricks lighting up my skin one after another.

The pulsing pain was relentless, and tears hovered just behind my eyes, threatening to fall.

I prayed he would just hit another place, but it was the same fucking place, over and over.

Alfonso let out a low, frustrated growl, and I flinched as something slammed against the wall. I didn’t understand what had set him off, but the tension in the room was suddenly razor-sharp.

His hand grabbed my hair, and he pulled slightly. “There is no fucking way you are this perfect, Camilla.”

I breathed hard and felt his lips crushing my head. Then his presence was gone. I felt alone, but I knew I wasn’t. He was in this room somewhere. My heart beat rapidly inside my chest.

Then I felt him, so close. His body brushed against the inside of my thighs, still stretched at the base of the cross.

With my vision dulled, every other sense was heightened, sharp, electric, waiting.

I could hear the rhythm of his hard and fast breathing, like he’d just run a marathon.

A few moments later, I felt his fingers at my opening.

My pussy lips were still tightly stretched due to the clamps.

Alfonso finger fucked me faster, and my body arched off the X.

He released one of my nipples by taking off the clamp, then the other. I felt the release. My breast pulsed softly as he pushed euphoria up my body. I grunted. I wanted more.

He growled as his fingers were doing all sorts of things inside of me, and then he stopped. I grunted, was really close to my orgasm and hated the loss of his fingers.

He fiddled with the clamps that held my pussy lips open and the release almost made me orgasmed.

More grunts left my lips as I hated how the ball tasted against my tongue. The strain my jaw was taking.

I took a deep breath as Alfonso’s hand covered my throat, and he pinched the sides.

The sound of his buckle cling in the air and the warmth of the tip of his cock pressed against my opening.

With a ram, he filled me up to the wall. More grunts left my lips as this felt euphoric. The pressure around my throat tightened as Alfonso start to fuck me faster.

My breathing grew strained, the air constricted, and dark spots danced in the corner of my eyes.

“Whose little slut are you?” he growled. “Fuck, your pussy is so tight. So fucking wet. And it’s mine, fucking mine. You are mine.” He roared like a madman, his praise tumbling from his lips in a raw, relentless rhythm that matched the intensity between us.

My orgasm was close, but with the beating of my heart and his fingers around my neck, my body refused to release.

His grasp around my neck disappeared and blood rushed back into my head.

I couldn’t gasp with this ball in my mouth, and my nose seeped in the air it needed. Burning down all the way to my lungs.

The orgasm rolled off my body as I fought for air, and he released deep inside of me, painting me from the inside out.

It finally came to a stop.

He released the blindfold first. I kept my eyes closed.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered, and I did. He was still lodged inside me.

“Are you okay?” Alfonso was out of breath, his hair a mess. I nodded tiredly, loving the excitement shining in his gaze.

“Fuck, Camilla.” He took off the contraption around my head and my jaw ached as I closed it. I didn’t want to look at my body. It still stung and pulsed and I knew I either got blisters or cuts. He was still buried inside me and it felt like heaven.

My body pulsed all over and my legs trembled. He pulled out of me and the restraints around my ankles were next. He released one by one, and I slowly drew my legs together, willing the tremors to fade. Each movement felt fragile, like I might shatter if I let go.

Lastly, he unfastened my wrists and gently lifted me off the towering wooden X, cradling me in his arms. Without a word, he carried me to the chair in the corner and settled down with me in his lap, holding me close like I was something precious and breakable.

I fought back the tears, but the exhaustion, emotional and physical, pressed down on me like a weight.

My mind felt scrambled, my body sore, and everything inside me tangled in knots of hurt and uncertainty.

He didn’t say a word, just held me, silently, as if his presence alone might stitch together everything that had come undone.

“If you want to cry, cry. This is your time. You can do whatever you want.”

Whatever I wanted, but I couldn’t even bring myself to look down at my own body. The thought of standing, of walking back to the room to get dressed, felt impossible.

Alfonso held me tightly, arms secure around me like a barrier against everything that had just happened.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, buried my face into his shoulder, and let my eyes close. More than anything, I just wanted to sleep. To drift away from all of this, even for a little while.

THE WHITE RABBIT

Camilla drifted off to sleep, that’s what she needed. She did it the other night too.

I’d never had a submissive fall asleep after a session before.

Sarah would be buzzing afterward, tired but euphoric. But Camilla… she was silent. Closed off. I had no idea what she was feeling. She hadn’t said a word, just let sleep claim her.

On one side, I hated the marks I left on her body; I guess aftercare was going to come later.

But on the other side, she was so fucking beautiful wearing my marks, and I couldn’t begin to put what I felt into words.

One thing was clear: I was one damn lucky bastard.

Maybe I should send Philip a gift basket or something for screwing up his shot with Camilla. Best mistake he ever made.

Sarah wasn’t happy when I contacted her and told her Camilla was going to try to be my submissive.

Sarah needed the pain, like I needed to bestow the pain. I made peace with the darkness that lived inside me. But with Camilla lying in my arms, breathing softly in her sleep, something shifted. For the first time, I felt the full weight of what I was.

I patched her up first, took care of her cuts and flamed skin, then carefully dressed her, fumbling a little as I eased her back into her clothes.

Then, I lifted her into my arms and carried her to my dressing room. She looked so fragile as I laid her on the couch, while I got dressed back into my clothes.

I pulled on my sweater, the weight of today still clinging to me.

She had satiated my demon. She proved that she was enough to handle my darkness.

I doubted Nico truly knew just how perfectly he’d chosen my bride.

Tears stung my eyes as I tried to make sense of what I felt, of what we had.

I never imagined I could share something like this with a spouse.

The fear of the unknown gnawed at me. For all I knew, Camilla might wake up wanting a divorce.

And if that were what she truly needed..

. hell, at this point I’d give it to her. Even if it destroyed me.

I lifted her gently into my arms. It was time to go home.

Nico was still seated at the entrance, his eyes locking onto mine the moment I stepped out. The sight of me carrying Camilla told him everything. She had done it. She’d walked into the fire with me.

Without a word, Nico stood, offered a quiet nod, and opened the door. I stepped through and the SUV was parked right in front of the building.

Nico opened the SUV’s back door. He didn’t speak, he didn’t need to.

I climbed in and settled with Camilla still fast asleep on my lap, her body nestled against mine. I held her tightly, protectively, like I was afraid she’d slip away.

It was impossible to put into words what I felt. My thoughts stormed in every direction, trying to make sense of what had just happened, of what this meant for her, for me, for us. For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel like mine to dictate. It was ours now.

For the next two weeks, I would be normal again, if only for a while.

Then, it would be time to see if my runaway would choose to join me in my darkness once more, to coax me back, to keep me tethered.

She was an angel, her light shining so brightly, and somehow, she had found her way into my shadowed world.

It was hard to imagine, but she was the one leading me toward something better, something brighter, something I never thought I deserved.

My gaze shifted to Nico, sitting calmly behind the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road, focused and steady.

" Grazie , Nico," I muttered, my voice soft but sincere.

His eyes briefly met mine in the rear-view mirror. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he let out a quiet huff as I pressed a tender kiss to Camilla's head, holding her close.