Page 36 of Forgive Me, Father (Don #1)

My darkness loved every scream that fell from her lips.

I growled as I released her thigh and sucked on her clit.

She tasted utterly divine. Her intoxication fed my demon, it lingered on my tongue.

My heart raced in my chest, each beat pounding like a drum, as her sounds of ecstasy grew stronger.

“Don’t come,” I warned her for the third time.

“Then stop fucking licking me,” she countered. I grabbed her mouth hard.

Her lips twisted into a pucker. “Stop telling me what to do. You are in no position, little runaway.”

I let her go and I couldn’t get enough of manhandling her. I wanted to bestow more pain and more pleasure. I wanted to fuck her already And none of it was good—not a single bit.

I had to hold on, stretch it out, to make every moment count, to last longer in the world outside.

I reached for my cane; a dark chuckle escaped my lips as I felt the weight of it in my hand. She was going to scream my name.

I used it on the side of her butt cheek and she yelped upon impact.

“Does it burn?” I asked.

“Yes, it does.”

“Good. You need it.”

She growled and her defiance was making my cock grew harder. It begged for a release, but I knew that I needed more time. More blood and more pain.

I picked up my pinkie piercer, slipping it on with quiet precision. It was razor-sharp, its edge biting into her skin, forming a thin red line over her breast.

More grunting as her body shot straight. I licked her blood.

I was a sadistic fuck. And the notion that she was in pain made me revel in whatever put this darkness inside of me.

I drew another line. She cried but didn’t give me the pleasure of screaming out loud.

“Louder,” I ordered her, making another line just below her hip.

“Fuck, it burns.”

“Yes, it burns.” I licked her blood from that too. Her pussy started to look extremely delicious.

“Don’t come,” I warned just before I licked her again. She grunted deeply as her legs started to tremble.

“Alfonso, stop,” she begged. I froze and lifted my tongue from her clit.

“You want me to stop?”

“I want you to stop fucking licking me. I’m close, so fucking close, and it’s worse than the fucking cuts.”

My lips curved into a smile. “You can’t ask me to stop. Not with that.”

“Fuck!” she screamed as she lowered her head. She was made for me, the perfect bride.

I rubbed her stomach and licked her clit again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she growled.

“Don’t come,” I warned her.

“Just fuck me, please.” The restraint was in her lips. I loved her begging. She cried harder as her legs trembled.

I absolutely loved her restraint and my dick begged for contact, for a release.

I pulled away from her pussy, unzipping my pants and pulling out my enlarged cock.

I was so fucking hard. I climbed onto the slab, hovering over her as she grunted.

I knew she was trying her best not to come but it was also clear that she was losing this battle. It must be painful.

My tongue licked her nipple, which was tightly secured in the clamp.

She breathed heavier through her nose, her voice trembling with need.

"Alfonso, please," she pleaded, that sweet tone of hers sending a surge through me.

The pad of my thumb pressed against her clit before I guided myself inside of her.

We both grunted as I pumped harder into her.

“Fuck yes,” she growled. “Faster.”

“Faster, what?”

“Fuck. Me. Faster.”

I chuckled. “Beg me.”

More growls came and she started to fuck me with her hips. I loved every bit of it. But I couldn’t allow her defiance.

“Stop or I’m going to pull out.”

“No, I want to come. Let me come.” The little fucking brat.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” I growled, and my fingers curled around her throat. My thrust met hers with double the amount of force she possessed. I knew if she was going to release, she would take me with her.

“Come for me, little runaway. Come now and come hard.”

She was red in her face as I kept fucking her harder.

“Come, Camilla!”

Her juices sloshed out of her as everything contracted. My hold around her neck disappeared and her pussy coaxed my sperm, pulling it hard from deep within me. The euphoria was mind-blowing, blindingly beautiful.

She trembled underneath me, coughing, and when I finally stopped and I fell on top of her. I was spent but I needed to take care of her. This was her time.

She still trembled and she looked like a mess as she tried to regain her breathing’s natural rhythm.

She was my beautiful mess. I pushed my tongue in her mouth and kissed her, without pulling out of her.

I loosened the tie on her right wrist, and the moment it was free, her fingers tangled in my hair, gripping tighter as I moved to release the other.

She planted her free hand on my jaw, kissing me harder. She was moving underneath me again.

Fuck, when was this woman going to get enough?

I yanked off her blindfold as I fucked her again. She moaned in my ear, and it turned into rhythmic wails.

I moved faster, fucking her harder and she pulsed around my cock again.

“That’s it, my little runaway. Calm down,” I spoke gently. She breathed faster and I removed her nipple clamps.

She had cried during our session and I kissed whatever was left beneath her eyes. “Deep breaths.”

She took a huge breath, and it was as if whatever put her in this frenzy washed away.

Her lower lip vibrated.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

A quiet, gnawing fear lived inside me that one day, she might say no. And if she did. If I ever hurt her in a way that couldn’t be undone, it would break something in me I don’t think I could ever fix.

“What the fuck are you doing to me?” she blurted out, her words rushed and trembling, the weight of it all breaking through. I held her close, arms wrapped tight around her, letting her cry without saying a word.

She left me completely thrown; during, she gave every sign she could handle it, but afterward, she unraveled in my arms. I realized I needed to step up my aftercare, to go the extra mile with her.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” I murmured, my voice steady even as her sniffle tightened something in my chest.

I swallowed hard. “Do you want to stop?”

She sniffed. “No, I don’t. I just don’t understand what it is I’m going through.”

“I know. It’s scary. I am scary.”

She chuckled and touched my face. “Are you okay?”

“No, that’s not how this works,” I said firmly. “I got what I needed—now it’s your turn. Tell me what you need. I’m all yours.”

“A bath,” she breathed, the word almost a sigh.

I smiled. “One bath, coming right up.” I kissed her, soft and tender, before slipping out of her and from the altar. I freed her ankles from the spreading device and removed the clit clamp softly.

She stayed silent, saying nothing about the state of her body, of the bloody mess, as I grabbed a robe from the railing and gently draped it over her shoulders.

I put away my dick and zipped my pants before I picked her up and walked out of the dungeon. I would come and clean it up later.

Now, it was her turn, and whatever she needed, I would give without hesitation.