Chapter 14: Shower Reclamation
Declan’s words hung in the air, a verdict that coiled in her gut. He released the rope, and she dropped the few inches to the floor, her legs buckling. Asher was there instantly, catching her, his hands firm on her waist as he guided her stumbling form toward the large, plush bed in the center of the room.
“On your knees, Willow,” Declan commanded, his voice leaving no room for hesitation. He moved to the wall where an array of implements hung, his fingers trailing over the cold steel and polished wood. He selected a long, flexible cane and a heavy, wooden paddle with drilled holes that whistled through the air when swung.
Asher helped her onto the bed, positioning her on all fours. He stayed close, one hand resting on the small of her back, a silent anchor. “Eyes on me,” he murmured, and she focused on his steady gaze, a lifeline in the storm she knew was coming.
Declan approached, the cane tapping lightly against his palm. “You took the fingers and the vibrator well. Now we see how much more this body can hold.” He laid the cane against the backs of her thighs, a cold, threatening pressure. “Count for me.”
The first strike was a sharp, burning line of fire across her skin. She gasped, her body jolting. “One,” she choked out, her voice trembling.
The second landed lower, a parallel sting that made her eyes water. “Two,” she forced out, gripping the bedspread.
He continued, methodically painting her skin with pain until she reached ten, her voice ragged. The heat spread through her, a throbbing ache that melded with the raw sensitivity from before. Without pause, he discarded the cane and picked up the paddle.
“This will make you sing,” he said, his tone almost conversational. The first smack of the paddle was a deep, thunderous impact that drove the air from her lungs. A cry ripped from her throat, unbidden.
“You will not come until I say,” Declan growled, landing another brutal swing on the other cheek. The pain was immense, a radiating shock that made her vision blur. She could feel the welt rising already, a hot, hard ridge under her skin.
Asher’s thumb stroked her back, a counterpoint to the violence. “Breathe through it, sweetheart. You can take it.”
Declan set the paddle aside and retrieved a thick, black silicone plug from the table. He coated it generously with lube, the cold gel a shock against her heated skin. “This will keep you open for me.” He pressed the tip against her, and she flinched, the memory of his fingers fresh. “Relax,” he ordered, his voice low and dangerous.
He pushed, and the plug stretched her unbearably, a burning, full feeling that made her whimper. Once it was seated fully, he turned his attention to her front. He parted her folds, his touch clinical. “So wet,” he mused. “Always so ready for it.”
He positioned himself behind her, his cock pressing against her entrance. He was thick and hard, and she felt herself stretch around him as he pushed in with a single, brutal thrust. She cried out, the fullness overwhelming, the plug in her ass making every movement more intense.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunted, his hands gripping her hips, holding her still as he began to move. His pace was relentless, each thrust jarring through her, the plug shifting inside her with every movement.
Asher leaned in, his lips near her ear. “Look at you, taking him so deep. You’re doing so well.” His praise was a balm and a torment, layering affection over the violation.
Declan’s thrusts became harder, faster, pounding into her with a rhythm that stole her breath. The pain from the paddling flared with each impact, mixing with the sharp pleasure building from his cock hitting just the right spot inside her. She was a mess of sensation, teetering on the edge.
“Don’t you dare come,” Declan snarled, slapping her ass cheek where the paddle had landed, sending a fresh wave of pain through her. She sobbed, her body trembling with the effort to hold back.
He fucked her harder, his breathing ragged. “Now, Willow. Come for me now.”
The permission broke her. Her orgasm erupted, a violent, screaming wave that tore through her, her muscles clamping down around his cock and the plug simultaneously. She collapsed forward, but Asher held her up, his hands under her shoulders.
Declan drove into her one last time, his own release a hot flood inside her as he groaned, his body rigid. He pulled out slowly, leaving her feeling empty and used. He removed the plug with a soft pop, and she winced.
Asher gathered her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Her body was a map of their attention, every sting and ache a testament. Declan looked down at her, his expression unreadable, then turned to clean the implements. The session was over, for now.