Alaskan Crash

He reached up and smacked a breast again then slid the hand behind her and tugged on her back until she fell forward onto his chest. Rolling her underneath him, he pushed both of her hands up above her head and used one of his to grab her wrists propping himself up as he drove into her, undulating his hips and body with each thrust. His free hand came up around her throat and he stared deep into her eyes. In a pleasure drunk voice, he got demanding, "Come for me, baby. Fucking come all over that cock like a good little whore. My good little whore. My perfect woman. Love you so fucking much, baby... Wanna feel it again. Come for me..."

She squealed and climaxed around him hard, "MASTER!" She arched towards his every thrust with needy wanton noises. "Fuck! Please! Breed! MASTER!" Her body massaged and clamped on his cock, again and again, desperately trying to milk him. "Please! NEED! MASTER!"

He fucked her hard and fast, driving her into the bed and pouring all of the pent-up emotion he had into it. Lust, love, desire, rage, self-loathing, hope, need, depression, guilt, and everything in between. His eyes stung from the tears until he shoved in hard and exploded into the condom with a roared "CAITLAN!!" that scared a few of the snowshoe rabbits that lived near his house.

She squealed her pleasure in response, and as he released her hands and neck, slumping forward, her arms wrapped around him to hold him tightly to her. His cock twitching inside her, stretching her so deliciously drew a soft, panting whimper with every movement. "Welcome home, Master. Welcome home." She stroked her hands up and down his back, a soft, tender caress surrounding him with her love.

Panting for several moments, he finally remembered that his hand had been around her throat and he breathed in alarm, "Oh God... Cait, did I... Did I hurt...?"

"Perfect, Master," she breathed and kissed his lips. "You didn't hurt me, didn't stop me from being able to breathe. You just held me in place." She kissed him again, then took his hand and kissed it before tilting her chin, "Didn't even bruise me other than when you marked me earlier."

"And that... didn't worry you?" he asked softly.

"Not even a little bit," she stated simply, "I trust you. I love you. You'll never harm me."

The next several months were spent talking and learning with each other as winter set in, then faded into spring. He was truly insatiable. Every chance he got she was bent over the couch, the table, on her back on the bed. Even in the shower, she was a little concerned about that one because they lost the condom but didn't let it stress too much. Finally, the crane and flatbed trucks came and got her bird, and the two of them packed to move into town together.

It was almost five months since her being locked down with him, he went into the small office she had turned one of the rooms into and closed the door. He sat down facing the computer screen and a man flickered to life on the other side. "Doc."

"Thank you for coming, Kevin. Last time we spoke about your fear of hurting your wife. Would you like to continue there, or elsewhere? My time is yours." For the next hour, the same as it would be for the foreseeable future, Kevin began working through his trauma with his therapist, a picture of Caitlan next to the laptop on the desk to remind him of the future, full of hope and promise.