Chapter 6: The Domination Begins
Tom pulled out of her with a soft, wet sound.
He stepped back, his breath still coming in hard gusts. The air in the room felt charged, thick with sweat and sex and spilled wine. He looked down at himself, at the slick evidence of their fucking glistening on his skin, and a lazy, satisfied smirk touched his lips. His eyes, dark and intent, fixed on Dani where she lay spent on the table.
“Get on your hands and knees.”
The command was quiet, almost conversational, but it sliced through the heavy silence. Dani’s body went still. Her eyes, which had been closed in post-orgasmic haze, flew open. She looked at him, searching his face for a joke, for a sign he was pushing too far.She found none.Only expectation.
“Tom…” Her voice was a scrape, a feeble protest.He didn’t repeat himself.He just waited, his gaze unwavering.
For a long second, she didn’t move. I saw the conflict playing out across her face—the ingrained propriety, the ghost of the woman who would have slapped a man for such a suggestion, warring with the raw, trembling thing he’d just made her. The woman who’d begged him to finish inside her.Her eyes dropped.A faint, almost imperceptible shiver ran through her. Then, with a fluidity that belied her exhaustion, she slid off the table. Her bare feet hit the hardwood floor with a soft thud. She knelt, the muscles in her thighs trembling slightly, and then slowly, deliberately, she lowered herself onto her hands and knees. The pose was stark, vulnerable, an animal submission.Her head hung down, her hair a curtain hiding her face.
“You’re an animal,” she whispered into the space between her arms.But the words held no heat. They were shaky, blurred at the edges with a humiliated arousal.Tom moved behind her. The floorboards creaked under his weight. He knelt, his hands coming to rest on the gentle swell of her hips.His touch was possessive, warm. He guided her back, adjusting her posture until her back was a graceful, sloping arch. His thumbs dug into the soft flesh of her ass, spreading her open.
He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock nudging against her wetness.He pushed in, not with a frantic shove, but with a slow, inexorable pressure. It was a deeper, different angle. Dani gasped, her spine bowing further as he filled her.Her fingers splayed against the cool wood floor, her knuckles whitening.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with a kind of reverent obscenity. He held himself there, fully sheathed, making her feel every inch. “So fucking obedient.”
Dani’s head dropped lower.A low moan escaped her, a sound of pure, helpless sensation. Shame and pleasure were inseparable now, a single chord vibrating through her core.He began to move. His thrusts started slow, a deliberate rocking of his hips that drew another broken sound from her throat. With each push, his grip on her hips tightened. The pace built, not in a wild frenzy, but in a measured, intensifying rhythm.Each stroke was harder, deeper, more claiming than the last. The sound of skin meeting skin was a solid, rhythmic punctuation in the quiet room.
I watched, my own breath shallow. I watched the way my wife’s body moved in answer to his—the sway of her breasts, the clench of her stomach muscles, the way her fingers curled and uncurled against the floorboards. The defiance she’d shown earlier, the spirited insults, were gone.Melted away.What remained was a pliant, needy submission.A total surrender.
“Please,” she gasped, the word ripped from her. It was aimless, a plea for something she couldn’t even name.Tom’s hand left her hip. It swung back and came down on the curve of her ass with a sharp, shocking crack.The sound echoed. Dani cried out, a sharp yelp of surprise and pain. Her body jerked forward, then immediately pushed back, her hips canting up, seeking him again, seeking more. A bright red handprint bloomed on her pale skin.“You like that?” he grunted, his rhythm never faltering.
She didn’t answer with words. She answered with her body, driving herself back onto him with a desperate hunger.He laughed, a low, dark sound, and obliged. His thrusts became harder, faster, a relentless piston driving her into the floor. His hands gripped her hips like handles, guiding her, using her.The table above them trembled with each impact. A forgotten wine glass tipped over, the dregs spilling like blood across the wood.
Dani’s moans lost all shape, became a continuous, ragged stream of sound. Her elbows buckled, her chest lowering toward the floor, leaving her ass high in the air, utterly presented to him. She was taking it all, every deep, punishing stroke, and her voice was a soundtrack of shattered composure.
Tom’s breathing grew ragged, harsher. “Gonna come soon,” he warned, his voice strained as he hammered into her. “Can I come inside you again?”
My wife was too overwhelmed with pleasure to respond verbally. A desperate, guttural sound was her only reply. Her body answered instead. She shoved herself back against him with a frantic, rocking urgency, driving his cock deeper with a force that made his knees slide on the wood. Her hands, which had been braced against the floor, flew back. They scrabbled over her own trembling thighs, seeking him. Her fingers found his hips, digging in, nails biting into his skin as she pulled him harder into her, anchoring him in place. It was a clear, wordless command: Don’t you dare pull out.
Tom groaned, a deep, surrendering sound that was entirely new. Her fierce need undid his control. His rhythm shattered into short, brutal pistons. “Fuck, Dani—yes—”
I watched his back muscles cord and lock. I saw the shudder tear through him, from his clenched jaw down the straining line of his spine. He pressed his forehead between her shoulder blades, his body bowing over hers. A hot, silent spasm gripped him.
Then I watched, my own blood roaring in my ears, as Tom spurted load after load into my wife. Each pulse was a visible ripple across his tensed flank, a soft, choked gasp at her ear. Dani convulsed around him, her anchoring grip never relenting, milking him with a series of deep, internal flutters that drew his release out. They came together, a messy, shuddering collapse of two bodies becoming a single, heaving form.
For a long minute, the only sounds were their ragged, syncopated breaths and the drip of condensation from a forgotten water glass. He softened inside her, but she didn’t let go. Her fingers relaxed, sliding from his hips to rest limply on her own skin, slick with sweat. He finally shifted, slipping out of her with a wet sigh. He sank back onto his heels, running a hand through his hair.
Dani collapsed forward, her cheek coming to rest on the cool floor. Her entire body was limp, flushed, and gleaming. A slow trickle traced a path down her inner thigh.
Tom looked down at her, then at the mess. He let out a low, breathless chuckle. “Well.” He swiped a finger through the dampness on her skin and shook his head, a wry, amazed smile on his face. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
She didn’t answer. Her chest just rose and fell, deep and slow. A single, spent tear escaped the corner of her eye, cutting a track through the haze on her temple.
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a casual, post-coital murmur. “You okay down there?”
Dani took a shuddering breath. She turned her head slightly on the floor, just enough to see his shadow fall across her. A weak, almost imperceptible smile touched her swollen lips. “Shut up,” she whispered, the words devoid of any force, any meaning at all.