Page 16 of Pursued-

“Okay,” she exclaims softly. “Please stop!”

I spank her for another minute to be sure she understands which of us is the boss. Then I let her sob while I rub her punished ass.

I massage her lower back with small circles, overcoming the tension. Her shoulders shake at first, then she settles as I handle her. She lies over my lap like a wilted flower. She’s always beautiful, but especially now when she’s mine.

My cock’s an iron rod, and it needs attention. My balls ache for me to put it in her tight little pussy again. Or I could claim some other part of her. The temptation is so strong it almost gets the best of me. Almost.

I need to take care of things. The shower’s the best place for it, but I’m not leaving her alone like she is. I pick her up and carry her into the bathroom. She turns her head away from me, still proud and still crying. I turn her to face the wall and release her wrists. Then I haul the shirt up and off of her.

She pulls back.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. Punishment’s over,” I say, hugging her to me.

She can’t make up her mind. At first she leans in, then she pulls back.

I let her go. I’d rather hold on, but she needs time to come to terms with it.

“It’s all right,” I say, lifting her and putting her in the shower. I strip and step in, then turn on the warm water, looking over my shoulder at her. She wipes her eyes.

“What are you doing?” she says.

“Taking care of this,” I say, stroking myself, unable to take my eyes off her. That face, that skin. I want to touch her. I want inside of her.

She’s looking at my hand around my cock and, after a few moments, seeming almost dazed, extends her hand.

“Yeah, touch it,” I say in a low voice as I turn to face her. I bring her hand near me. The touch of those little fingers of hers makes my cock jerk. I suck in a breath.

She looks up through spiky lashes. I close my hand over hers and show her what to do.

I lay my forearm against the tile and rest my forehead on it, breathing hard as she jerks me off. Her free hand slides over my stomach, and I lean into her.

“Faster,” I mumble.

She strokes me harder and faster with her right hand, and her left slides around to my back. She slaps my ass and digs her nails into me. The pain’s nothing, and it does nothing.

I open my eyes, and she’s staring at my face. She moves her left hand to my chest and my pecs clench. Her thumb brushes my nipple and she whispers, “Stay. Stay with me.”

A memory hits me full on. Of being on the brink of death, of pain and fire so deep that I just want it to end, but I keep holding on, keep fighting the end, because she wants me to.

“Fuck,” I choke out as I come.

I let her stroke me until I’m empty, then I sink to my knees. I lick her tits and then move my mouth lower, kissing her belly and wrapping my arms around her. I’m gutted.

It’s unreal, like witchcraft, the way she can reach phantom fingers into my body and squeeze my soul until I’m breathless.

After a few moments, she rubs my shoulders. “I’m the one who got you shot. But I’m the one who saved you, too.”

I let go of her and force myself up, regaining my feet.

She grabs my forearm. “I saved your life, right? That’s why you can’t hate me?”

I wash the cum off my body and then push her in front of me to rinse her off too. Then I reach around her and turn off the water.

I lift her up and push the shower door open, stepping out and setting her on the floor. I towel off and then hold the towel out to her.

“Sasha?”

“What?” I say gruffly, rubbing the towel over her skin and hair.