Chapter Text
Even with Miranda’s cult in the rearview mirror, the next semester does not prove to be any less hectic than the first. Since you successfully secured the position of vice president for the Student Council you became Bela’s right hand and adopted all the responsibilities that come with the position.
Given the recent change in your relationship with the gorgeous woman, you can’t say that you’re upset. However, the work is as arduous, stressful, tedious, and suffocating as it was last semester.
Bela is also just as demanding as she was before, if not more so. However, it’s a little different now.
On top of the regular work, Bela’s adjustment to once again having a heart has been…interesting. You’re certainly not complaining when she dotes on you. At the slightest chance that you might get sick, she is fretting over you and taking care of you until you’re back to proper health. She’ll shower you with thoughtful gifts at the most unexpected times. You continue to tell her that she doesn’t need to, but she always insists that she loves to spoil you.
You also can’t say that you mind how openly affectionate she is with you. Holding hands, playing with your hair, casual kisses when you’re not looking, and more intense kisses when you are. And that’s just in public.
In private? She is all over you. It’s almost like she gets huffy if you’re not somehow in physical contact with her. You experience a quieter side of her love, gentle whispers, soft touches, and tender vulnerability. At the end of a long day, you relish the time you spend cuddling with her, recharging your batteries in her presence. She’s so precious.
…In the bedroom though? She’s a completely different woman and you love it. She has years of pent-up sexual urges to get out and she is beyond eager to explore them with you. The feeling is more than mutual. Unsurprisingly, she slips into a dominant role, and you readily comply.
Well, for the most part. You enjoy backtalk, and Bela enjoys punishing you. It works out in the best way possible. That is until you push her just a bit too far and suddenly you have a patchwork of hickeys that not even a scarf can hide.
In essence, she wants everyone to know that you’re a couple. She spent too long unable to feel, she has no interest in masking her feelings now.
While you have no issue with that, the sentiment sometimes morphs into something else. Something territorial. Possessive. She’ll get haughty if she thinks that someone is admiring you. God forbid if someone tries to flirt with you—she will rip them to shreds. By this point, you’ve given up trying to hide the marks she leaves along the crook of your neck. She wants you all to herself and is unwilling to compromise on the matter.
In some ways, you still can’t say that you mind this. You’re all in favor of women’s wrongs, after all. The issue is more so that you want Bela to feel safe in your relationship. You don’t want her to feel a constant stress that you’re one moment away from disappearing. You know that her trauma fuels some of those emotions, and you have done your best to address it…to minimal success.
You remember trying to broach the subject with Bela after a passionate evening in bed.
It all started when she had practically dragged you from campus to her bedroom, in a sour mood after some freshman got a little too chatty with you.
Your words failed to mollify the situation.
By the time the bedroom door closed, she had almost been feverish in the way she kissed your body. She babbled against your skin, declaring that you belong to her, and only her. That you were her kitten. Every time you tried to respond, she kissed you harder and with greater need. She didn’t want you to give her assurances, she wanted to make her point through actions.
You ended up losing count of how many times you finished while under her. One moment she was using her strap, the next her fingers, the next her mouth, and…By the time you were done, you couldn’t feel your legs. Or anything below your waist for that matter.
You could, however, feel the distinct batch of purple and blue marks blossoming along the curve of your neck. You could feel strands of hair sticking to your face as you stared up at the ceiling in a daze.
“Hey,” You began with uneven breaths sawing in and out of your throat, “you know that you don’t have anything to be jealous of, right?” Not the smoothest delivery, but you’d just had your brain scrambled by Bela’s strap game.
Bela, who had both arms coiled around your frame, shifted a bit to look down at you. Her brows furrowed together, and she pressed her lips into a thin line. Her hold on you tightened ever so slightly. “What are you talking about, sweet one? I’m not jealous.”
You blinked, arching your brows as you adjusted yourself a bit in her arms to get a better look at her face. “One moment I’m chatting with a student about council positions and the next you’re dragging me away.”
You crane your neck as best as you can. “Bela, my neck is going to look like I took a baseball to the jugular—I’m not complaining, but you can’t tell me that you aren’t a bit jealous.”
Something warm churns in your core as a pleased expression crosses Bela’s face as her eyes rake over your neck, admiring her handiwork. Fuck. Debating with her is always so hard. You clear your throat, her gaze returning to you.
Bela is quiet for a moment, her eyes assessing you before she lets out a small exhale. Her body shifts, rolling on top of you, her forearms framing the sides of your face. Her hair falls over you like a shimmering curtain, shutting out the rest of the bedroom.
“I won’t deny that I brought you home because I disliked the sight of that…student flirting with you.”
You part your lips to retort because that sounds a lot like jealousy. You also want to deny the charge that the student was flirting with you in any capacity.
“I’m not done talking,” Bela cuts you off before you can even utter a syllable. You fix her with a glare, words burning on the tip of your tongue like a curse.
Bela is all too aware of your penchant for backtalk. She decides to find a proactive solution to the problem, moving her hand and pressing two fingers to your lips. “Open.”
Your traitorous body responds to the command on instinct, as you take both of Bela’s digits into your mouth. When her fingernails press down onto the flat of your tongue a delicious shiver slithers down your spine as you feel a familiar silk-slick heat below your navel. You try to close your legs together, but Bela’s knee prevents you from finding any relief.
“Good girl,” Bela coos, her half-lidded eyes filled with a distinct fondness. You love that look on her. You gently suck on her fingers, and you swear that you can see hearts in her eyes. You may be a brat, but you do love to please.
“So good for me…” She whispers, her voice growing breathless, intense. At this point, you’d almost forgotten what you were even discussing in the first place.
Bela, though, seems to reel her mind back to the conversation at hand—if you could even call it a conversation, at this point. You weren’t going to be doing much talking.
“As I was saying, I’m not jealous.” Your eyes narrow. You don’t need your mouth to express your incredulity. Bela only smirks. “You see, my love, jealousy means that I covet something that someone else has.”
She dips down, closer to the hickeys scattered along your skin. Her tongue flicks across the sore spots and a strangled moan tries to claw its way out of your throat. Bela gives a satisfied hum from your reaction.
“See? I don’t think I have anyone to be jealous of. You’re mine, forever and always.” Her lips move to the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe.
“I am, however, protective of what belongs to me.” Her husky tone fills your ear and your body writhes beneath her. Bela refuses to give you any reprieve. “So, I won’t hesitate to reassert my claim over you, my love.”
She leans up, returning to her position above you. With a slow, deliberate drag, she pulls her fingers from your mouth with a distinct pop. “Do you have anything to say?”
A part of your mind wants to argue with her about the fact that she’s focusing on semantics more than the actual argument at hand.
“Or would you rather let me take care of you?”
You punt that small argumentative part of your mind into the stratosphere.
To your relief, things do ease a little following the brief discussion. Bela still won’t hesitate to glare daggers at anyone who gets too chummy with you, but she does dial back the protectiveness.
The status quo remains stable until one particularly stressful day.
From noon until midnight, you and Bela occupy a corner of the library. Cassandra’s theater troupe has continued to be a constant headache for both of you. The interpersonal drama results in several complaints that you have to rectify, and Cassandra’s perfectionist demands leave you with additional forms to handle.
To compound the tedious work, Miranda is even worse this semester than she was before. Her demands are unreasonable at the best of times, and impossible more often than not. However, you and Bela’s collective pride refuses to let her get the better of you. If she wants you to amend an amendment to a Student Council resolution then fucking fine, you’ll do it.
The consequence is that come midnight, you’re mentally exhausted and physically sore. Your brain feels like someone has driven a railroad spike through it. Your joints, on the other hand, feel rigid after hours of performing the same rote motions. Your back is going to need a chiropractor unless you want to look like a shrimp by the time you graduate.
“Let’s head home, we can finish up there.” Bela doesn’t let her fatigue show, but you can see a glimpse of weariness in her eyes. Her words carry a distinct edge, her tone lower than usual.
You stand up and three of your limbs crack all at once. “Sounds good. Let’s go grab something at the café on the way.”
“We have coffee at home,” Bela responds, sounding exasperated as she slots the paperwork into her backpack.
“We have also been in the library all day. I’d like to have some kind of a break,” You retort, tossing your backpack over your shoulders. The weight makes you want to sink into the floor.
Yeah, you need a break.
You turn to walk away, intending to head to the café whether Bela follows or not. You need some time to stretch your legs and interact with society.
“Twelve hours is not all day.” Bela falls into step next to you, huffing over what she sees as a frivolous detour.
“Nothing gets by you,” You flatly respond. “No wonder you’re on the Dean’s List.” Normally, you’d check your tone, but today’s workload has left you without a filter.
“Quit being a brat,” Bela grounds out from between her teeth, her eyes narrowing into slits as she looks over at you.
You scoff. Bela attitude failed to intimidate you last semester, and it has even less of an effect now. You may love her to pieces, but you still have no issue pushing back.
“You first. I’m not the one getting bent out of shape about taking a ten-minute detour.”
“We have work, and this is unnecessary,” Bela shoots back, tone as sharp as a certain someone’s switchblade. She speaks as if she’s explaining simple math to an adult, and you’re not keen on the condescension.
“We had work to do last night, and that didn’t stop you from eating me out.”
“Are you comparing the necessity of us making love to going to a café!?”
You let out a groan as you exit the library. You love this woman, but you do not have the patience for this right now. “Look, I’m not debating this with you. If you want to make coffee at home, then knock yourself out. I’m going to the café.”
Predictably, Bela stays right at your side but looks rather irritated about it. You’re sure you’ll pay the price for your backtalk at some point. For now though, you relish the small break and chance to decompress.
You’re halfway to the café when Bela puts her hand in yours with a petulant huff, her fingers weaving together with your own. She won’t look directly at you, but you know she can see the small smile you give her. You gently nudge her shoulder.
Maybe tonight will be okay.
Then you enter the café. Rather than seeing Elena holding down the midnight fort, a different employee is behind the register…You honestly didn’t know that the café even had other employees.
Whatever, something to ask Elena about later.
You approach the counter, Bela trailing close behind you. You can feel her grip on your hand tightening and you’re sure if you look behind you that you’ll find her trying to spontaneously combust the cashier with her mind.
The cashier grins at you, leaning onto the counter. “Hey good-looking, see something you like?”
Fuck.
Why did they have to hire someone with a death wish?
“Excuse me?” Bela growls from behind you, venom dripping from her words. You’re not even facing her and you can feel the murderous aura emanating from her. If you’re not quick, then Elena is going to be cleaning up pieces of her coworker tomorrow morning.
“I just want one black coffee,” You hastily interject, praying that the moron in front of you has picked up on the imminent danger she’s in if she doesn’t comply and cut the flirting.
“And how would you like that? Hot, just like you?”
Oh, for the love of god—Cassandra isn’t even this tactless!
…Okay, that’s a lie. But Cassandra is at least somewhat charming.
Also, who gets fucking cold black coffee? That’s not even clever. She could at least make a pun about the sugar or something.
While you’re mulling over the cashier’s stupidity, Bela shoulders her way in front of you. She slams down a black credit card and the counter shakes, “They’ll have it to go,” Bela says through gritted teeth.
The cashier maintains her easy smile in the face of Bela’s outright hostility, lacking any self-preservation instincts. The fact she’s still standing at all is a miracle. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s on the house.” And with that, she disappears to make your coffee.
A vein in Bela’s neck twitches and you watch a manic, cruel grin cross her features. Her grip on your hand continues to tighten and at the going rate your fingers are going to turn into dust before you get your coffee.
“Bela, it’s fine,” You whisper in a desperate attempt to deescalate the situation. You try to angle yourself between her and the cash register, not entirely convinced that she won’t lunge at the other woman when she returns from the back.
“Oh, it is going to be fine alright.”
“Bela, no!”
“Bela, yes,” She says with homicidal conviction.
Before you can try to dissuade her, the cashier returns with your simple order. “And here’s your coffee,” She all but purrs, sliding it across the counter.
You snatch it up before Bela can get any ideas and immediately rush towards the exit, trying to pull Bela with you.
Her shoes squeak across the tile. It’s like her calves are filled with cement.
“Sleep with one eye open.” Is all Bela says before following you through the exit. By some miracle, you’re not going to have to hide a body tonight.
Once you’re out into the cool night air, you and Bela can only stare at one another, a thick tension filling the space between you. The look in her eyes has the hairs on the back of your neck standing on edge. Okay, how can you fix the situation?
You glance over to the trashcan near the door and promptly pitch the coffee. “Okay, I’ll admit it, this was a bad idea. But, in my defense—”
It’s Bela’s turn to drag you now. She’s pulling you down the sidewalk and you realize that no work is going to get done tonight when you get back to the apartment.
If you were smarter and a bit less tired, you’d shut your mouth and accept the situation as it is.
However, in your infinite wisdom, you open your mouth.
“Come on Bela, there’s no need to be jealous. I mean, what were those pickup lines? Like, what’s even the alternative to hot black coffee?”
You almost collide into Bela as she comes to an abrupt halt, fixing you with a withering glare. You found the exact combination of words to open the dam. “This again? How many times must I tell you, I am not jealous!”
“Yes, yes, you’re protective, I get it!” Storm clouds gather in Bela’s eyes as you cut her off. You have talked yourself into a hole and yet you continue to dig. “Can we please stop arguing about semantics? You know what I mean. You don’t need to be insecure—”
Bela yanks you forward, your body flush against her own as she now cuts you off. She is impossibly warm. “I am not insecure. I am, however, getting sick of your bratty attitude today.”
Your bratty attitude!? Pot, meet kettle!
You are about to tell her as much before her fingers curl around your jaw, pulling your face closer to her own and sending the words tumbling back down your throat. “As witty as I am sure your retort is, I’d recommend saving your breath. You’ll need it for later.”
Bela was right; she kisses you like she wants to steal the air from your lungs. She’s carrying you in her toned arms as she kicks open her bedroom door. No sooner does the door clatter against the wall than your back collides onto her plush bedding. You are doing your best to keep up with the frenetic energy of her kiss, but your lips are already growing swollen from her intensity and pace.
Roaming hands leave searing trails along the entirety of your body. Your pants are already unzipped and the buttons to your top have parted to expose your skin to her greedy touch. Her nails dig into you every time you moan into her mouth, not bothering to hide your need for her.
Bela pulls your legs apart, slotting herself between them as she leans over you on the mattress. She pulls away from the kiss, a few strains of saliva connecting your bottom lips. She’s looking down at you through hooded, hazy eyes as she gulps down breaths of air. Despite the lust clouding her vision, you can tell she’s planning something.
Probably the fastest way to make you beg for her.
“You’re lucky,” She whispers, her words barely more than a breath. “Normally, I’d make you apologize for being such a brat today. But I don’t think that’ll fix your attitude problem.”
You want to argue with her. After all, she’s focusing on your attitude when the incident at the café is the real issue. But you remain quiet, mainly because it’s hot when she’s a little mean to you.
Bela smiles at your silence. She takes her time slipping off her black top, drinking in every moment that your eyes remain glued to her. She wants your undivided attention, and you give it all too willingly. You are shameless in admiring her body, appreciating the curve to her hips and the pale plane of her stomach.
“You’re gorgeous.” You don’t even try to hide the reverence in your words.
Your lover preens from your comment, pushing her silky blonde hair over her shoulder as she looks down at you with an unrestrained smile. “Thank you, kitten. I’m glad to see that your tone has finally changed. I was beginning to run out of patience.”
“I didn’t do anything,” You mutter with a huff, though your voice lacks conviction.
Bela responds by rolling her eyes and folding her arms across her chest, unfortunately taking them away from you. “Oh, is that so? Have you forgotten your cheeky comments on the way to the café?”
You begin to sit up, reaching for your girlfriend before she uses one hand to plant you firmly back onto the bed. You let out a small whine as she refuses to let you touch her. “Come on, I was just tired,” You try to argue, knowing it’s not your best argument.
Still, Bela seems to soften a little, smiling once more. “Indeed, you were. Which can only explain your foolhardy decision to go to the café so late at night.”
You already know where this is going. “For one, I do not know who that was! For two, what she said, is not my fault—” You’re silenced as Bela places a single finger on your lips, and you know better than to try and protest.
“Maybe so,” She replies, letting her nail skate along your lower lip, sending a pleasant tingle down the base of your neck. “But it was your idea to go there in the first place instead of listening to me. If you wanted a break, I would have been more than happy to provide you with one at home. Either way, rather than debate your stubborn attitude, I’m opting for a more straightforward solution.”
Equal parts fear and arousal boil beneath your skin. This could be great, or you could spend hours being teased and edged. Memories of Bela leaving you strapped to the bed while she filled out fucking paperwork surge to the front of your mind.
Bela uses her finger to drag your lips open and you comply. She gives a satisfied hum before slipping her finger into your mouth. She doesn’t even need to give you a command before you begin to gently suck on it. At this point, compliance is your best bet.
“I’m going to fuck you until I am the only thing on your mind,” She declares, using her free hand to discard your pants onto the floor. In your relief, you can’t stop yourself from hooking your legs around her waist, heels digging into her thighs as you try to pull her forward.
Bela’s chuckle is low and husky as she traces her nails along your bare inner thigh. “It seems you’re fond of my idea. Maybe after this you’ll stop saying such silly things about jealousy.”
Ah, yes. Disproving the jealousy allegations by…fucking you until she’s the only thing on your mind. An ironclad argument. But as Bela slips her finger from your mouth, you decide to keep that wry comment to yourself. Especially as Bela’s finger traces a slick trail down the center of your abdomen, going right past your navel.
If her touch ties your stomach into knots, the sight of her sinking to her knees makes your thighs quiver in anticipation. “Bela…”
She pauses for a moment, looking up towards you, beautiful blue eyes peering at you from above the bed.
“I love you.”
Bela offers you a genuine smile, a distinct fondness shining from behind the hazy lust in her eyes. “I love you too,” She says, before promptly placing your legs onto her shoulders and licking a long stripe right down your center. Your hips try to buck upwards, but firm hands keep you rooted in place.
You belong to Bela, and she’s not going to let you go until she has made her point.
Bela matches your neediness with sheer tenacity. Her tongue rolls along your slit, flicking against the hood of your clit. “So wet for me…” The vibrations of her voice only amplify the pleasure rattling through your frame.
“All yours.” Your voice is barely a whimper at the absence of her friction.
“That’s right,” She replies, dragging out the syllables, sounding about as smug as you’d expect. However, she doesn’t make you wait too long before she returns to you. It doesn’t take long for you to melt underneath her tongue.
When her lips wrap around your clit and she begins to suck, you lose the ability to form coherent thoughts as you ground down against her tongue, broken moans shamelessly falling from your lips. Your nails dig into the comforter, desperate for something to hold onto.
A possessive, guttural growl tears from Bela’s throat as she pulls your hips forward, savoring the taste of you. A taste that could only ever belong to her. A taste that she plans to indulge in for as long as she desires.
You fall apart underneath her tongue and your eyes roll heavenward each and every time. You cannot compose a single thought and can barely string together any words. There are only two syllables on your lips, and lucky for you, they’re the only ones she wants to hear.
The pattern repeats, again, and again. By this point, your hips are embedded with her nail marks. The stars that once dotted your vision have transformed into entire galaxies. You swallow gulps of air, only able to really catch your breath once Bela has temporarily sated her hunger.
Your bleary vision comes into focus as Bela rises to her feet. The entire lower half of her face is slick with you, and the cocky grin she has on her face is positively sinful. “My, you were quite the talkative kitten.” She says, tracing a stray finger over your pulsing, sensitive core.
“I don’t even remember what I said.” The warble to your words makes you blush, but Bela only finds it more endearing.
“You’re welcome.” The arrogance radiating off her is intoxicating. You belong to her, in every possible sense of the way. But it isn’t enough; it can never be enough. There’s always something more.
In this case, the ‘more’ is hidden in the nightstand that Bela is sauntering towards. Given the way that her hips sashay as she walks, you already know what she’s going to grab.
Or at least, you think you do. When Bela opens the top drawer and pulls out the strap, you’re unsurprised but eager as usual. Ever since you begged her to rail you she has been eager to tease you with it and you can only be so mad about her smug attitude.
But Bela pulls something else out. A black leather collar, with an accompanying leash. The collar has two magnetic pieces at the front, linking it together. Your throat goes dry and suddenly your tongue feels heavy in your mouth.
“I was planning on saving this for our anniversary,” Bela muses, turning the collar over in her hands. “But I think that now may be more fitting.” Her eyes cut to you, and your entire body shivers, a carnal desire practically radiating from you.
If her goal is to prevent you from bringing up jealousy, she’s doing a great job of it.
Bela takes a small, deliberate step towards you. “I’ll confess, there may be times where I feel a little…jealous.”
With the strap and collar in her hands, you wisely decide to keep your satisfaction internal.
“But I stand by the fact that I only want to protect you.” Her voice is softer and her features relax a little bit. A rare moment of uncertainty seems to replace her confidence as she extends the collar towards you. “Will you let me do that, little one?”
I won’t hesitate to reassert my claim over you.
Normally, this would require a nuanced conversation. But right now? You do not care in the slightest. If she wants to put that collar around your neck, then you are only too happy to oblige.
It takes a moment for you to push yourself into a sitting position, but your smile is all Bela needs to feel at ease. You raise your chin, baring your throat to her. Bela closes the gap between you two in a moment.
The leather is cool against your flushed skin as the magnetic pieces clamp into place, tightening around your neck. A tangible marker of your submission, of her ownership.
Bela assesses the collar for a moment, her head tilting ever so slightly as her lips part. Her tongue drags across her lower lip as she tightens her grip on the leash. “All mine.”
It’s not a question, yet you still respond, “All yours.”
Those two words are all it takes for Bela to firmly pull the leash upwards, bringing you into her arms. Your wobbly knees nearly buckle, but Bela keeps you standing. Her lips crash into your own with the force of a two-ton wave, and all you can do is respond in kind, throwing both your arms around her.
As the kiss grows more passionate, her tongue pressing into your mouth, her grip on the leash tightens. At this point, you couldn’t even lean back if you wanted. You were entirely in her grasp.
Kissing isn’t enough to satisfy the growing hunger in Bela, nor you. She pulls away, guiding you back down onto the bed while maintaining a vice grip on your leash. “Don’t move.” She doesn’t let go until you nod, that same cocky grin returning to her features.
You are down horrendous, but you cannot bring yourself to care.
You do as you’re told and remain in your spot while Bela prepares the strap-on.
Before you know it, Bela is back in front of you. She guides you further back onto the bed, propping you up along one of the many pillows near the headboard. She shifts onto her knees, spreading your legs apart and grabbing ahold of your thighs.
She adjusts her body, situating the glistening tip of the strap-on against your folds and you are practically shivering in anticipation. Her eyes never leave you, her thumbs rubbing small circles into the underside of your thighs. “Are you ready, kitten?”
You bite down onto your lower lip, feeling your smile growing as you nod. “Make me yours.”
As expected, your words seem to stoke Bela’s desire and she eases the strap into you, inch by inch. You can tell she’s holding back, letting your body adjust to its width and length. Filthy moans spill from your lips almost instantly as Bela looks down at you with a triumphant, flushed face.
Once she sheathes the strap in you, she leans forward, grabbing your leash to pull you into a kiss. You try to match her energy but end up moaning into her mouth as she begins to rock her hips to and fro. The motion sends heat crackling throughout the entirety of your being, wildfire filling your veins. You can feel your brain already beginning to scramble.
“Someone’s sensitive,” Bela coos against your lips, shifting her attention to the curve of your neck, kissing right above the collar. “Let me hear you kitten, don’t be shy.” Bela’s thrusts pick up pace to accentuate her point, the exclamation mark added as she begins to nip and suck at the tender skin along your neck.
You comply because you cannot hold yourself back. Her name is like a chant, a prayer for more and more. You would worship this woman until the day you die. It doesn’t matter what weird paranormal or cult shit happens, you will always stay by her side.
You feel your emotions welling up, and somehow you find yourself speaking full sentences as she begins to rail you, already leaving her second lovemark.
“I love it when you’re jealous,” Your traitorous mouth confesses, arms tightening around her, letting your nails dig into her shoulders. “I love it when you want to claim me!”
The kisses along your neck pause for a moment, but her thrusts keep the same steady, reliable pace as liquid fire churns in your core, a tightening spring that is threatening to snap at any second.
“I just don’t want you to feel like you need to.” Why in the world are you talking right now? Why are you getting sentimental while Bela gives you the strap? “I want you to know that I love you and only you. No one could change that,” You say, although your voice continues to rise to a higher pitch as need clouds your mind.
Bela pulls back from your neck. You notice that her lips are set into a pleased smile, her half-lidded eyes are rimmed with adoration as she looks down at you. She lets out a dreamy sigh, her pace slowing just a bit despite your whine.
“If I want to claim you every night, then will you let me?” She asks, although she already knows the answer.
“As much as you want,” You confirm through airy breaths, beginning to rock your hips against Bela’s, desperate for her to increase her pace.
Your answer is enough to satisfy the blonde. She grabs your leash, pulling your face within an inch of her own. A wicked grin splits her features. “Open.”
You do so without a question. Bela leans down and spits into your mouth, and you taste both herself and you. At the same time, her hips begin to pound into you as she pushes your thighs further back, your calves now resting on her shoulders as the strap-on slides in deeper.
“Swallow.”
You’re no longer thinking as you follow her orders.
“So good for me.” There’s a slight growl to Bela’s words, a feral energy as she buries her face back into your neck. She redoubles her efforts to leave your neck a patchwork of purple and blue bruises. The sting of her teeth mingles beautifully with the frantic pace of her thrusts, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing throughout the room.
You can only cling to her. You follow her earlier command and don’t bother trying to be quiet. She can deal with the noise complaint.
It doesn’t take very long for the spring inside of you to shatter into a million pieces as you finish. You ride out the orgasm along her strap, each thrust drawing it out more and more.
Bela slows down and you are able to finally breathe again. You try to piece together the fragments of your mind, but it’s like putting together a puzzle with a broom.
It takes you a full minute to realize that Bela is staring down at you, positively lovestruck. She cups your cheeks with both hands, massaging the flushed skin. “You did so good, my love. You’re always so perfect. And you always look so pretty when you cum for me.”
You haven’t yet regained the ability to properly speak, so you can only offer her a dreamy smile.
Bela seems to assess you, looking you up and down before finally speaking. “However, it seems you’re too tired for another round.” Whoa now, who said that? “A shame, really. I had such a nice finale in store for the collar’s debut…”
“S’okay,” You elegantly slur as you force yourself into a sitting position, grabbing ahold of her to brace yourself. “I can handle it.” The words come out of your mouth jumbled and in a rush, less than convincing.
“Oh? I’m not so sure.” You have the feeling that Bela’s just fucking with you at this point. You know she wants you to beg for it. It’d probably be wise to do just that and let her have her way about it.
Naturally, you do the opposite.
You finally manage to get ahold of yourself enough to speak. You spare her a knowing glance, lips settling into a smirk. “Didn’t you say you wanted to claim me? It doesn’t seem like the Bela I know to leave the job half-finished.”
The tenderness and faux sympathy in Bela’s eyes evaporates in an instant, cerulean slivers now glaring down at you.
You offer her a flippant shrug in response, leaning away from her. “It’s fine, I’ll just take care of it myself.”
One moment you’re leaning back against the pillows.
A moment later, you’re bent over the bed, angled towards Bela’s dresser. Bela’s muscles are no joke, she practically hauls you to the edge of the bed, putting your ass up in the air.
You begin to chuckle, but the slap across your ass makes it sound more like a strangled moan.
“I should have known that you’d be too much of a brat to ask for this nicely. Even after everything, I think I still need to adjust that behavior of yours.” Bela slaps your other asscheek, moving to stand behind you.
Your reply is cut off as she yanks on your collar, lifting your head and effectively arching your back. You blink a few times before you begin to understand the point of this.
Across the room, you stare into your reflection in the mirror above Bela’s dresser. Bela’s standing behind you, a mean, tight smile growing as the realization dawns on you. “You asked for this.” Is all she says before slipping the strap-on into you.
This time, there is no gentleness. Bela wants to use you, and she wants you to watch. She is claiming you and she wants you to see it first-hand. This is what you signed up for.
You watch the way your face involuntarily shifts into ecstasy as Bela fills you with herself. The real sight though is Bela herself, who tilts her head back, clearly enjoying herself as she sets a relentless pace. Any time your neck begins to dip forward, her grip on the leash keeps you perpetually arched for her.
“You want me to claim you? You can watch while I do so. Maybe you can think about this view the next time you want to be a brat in public.” Her free hand grips your hip, giving her better leverage to pound into you without any remorse.
You’re just babbling at this point, in part from the collar and in part from the strap. You can’t even announce that you’re about to cum, all you can do is cry out while she continues to fuck you.
“Oh, did my kitten cum already?” Bela asks, the faux sympathy in her voice doused with a bitter sharpness. She doesn’t slow down in the slightest, fucking your sore, needy cunt even harder. “Too bad for you, I’m not finished with you yet.”
You’d let her use you all night if that’s what she wanted…so long as she’s willing to carry you around campus tomorrow. You’d be lying if you said this isn’t what you agreed to.
You almost melt into a puddle as she uses you, making you watch her as she makes an absolute mess of you.
“Who do you belong to?” Bela asks, slowing her pace just enough for you to respond.
You’re grateful that ‘you’ is such an easy word to pronounce.
The answer, and probably the way you said it, is enough to please Bela as she slows down. “Good. Now, are you going to behave for me?”
“For now.” The words slip out of your lips before you can even think about it. Bela only laughs as her thrusts come to a halt.
“As I expected. Now, final question…” She slips the strap from you, turning you over on the bed and guiding you onto it so that you’re not just dangling off the edge. “Would you like me to take care of you?”
You give an eager nod, a faint smile crossing your lips.
As mean as Bela could be during sex, her aftercare was second to none. The woman had absolutely no issues putting you in your place and fucking you within an inch of your life, but that same passion also applied to the way she cared for you afterwards.
Within minutes, the collar was off, a bottle of water was in your hands, and Bela held you in her lap, a blanket draped around both of you. Your head rested below her chin as her hands left delicate trails along your body. She whispered lovely words into your ear, telling you how good you were and promising you anything and everything.