Summary: Jasper gives Edward the one thing he can't find anywhere else. But can it be enough? Slash. BDSM.
Word Count: 492
Rating: M for language and sexual content.
Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns these characters. No copyright infringement is intended.
I stood panting heavily, sated and drained. My arms aching, bound together above my head by thick, unyielding leather straps and chained securely to the low ceiling of the basement. My dick hung limp and used between my legs and the hot flesh at the tops of my thighs and my ass was burning, stinging and throbbing deliciously, from the sharp bite of leather against my skin.
I could hear Edward behind me as he caught his breath, his chest heaving from the effort he'd exerted as he wielded his crop against me.
Counting out through painfully clenched teeth, he swung again and again, the sting in my flesh a beautiful reminder of his power over me and the trust we shared every time we gave in to our aching desires. He didn't stop until I was a trembling, hard, needy mess.
When my ass was raw and ready for him, pink and burning, he fucked me hard and fast. My legs were spread and the chains holding me loosened to allow me to bend at the waist, the metal creaking with every deep thrust as I braced my weight against my bindings. His hold on my hip and shoulder was firm. Deliberate and desperate. And when he instructed me, I came in shuddering, thick spurts on the hardwood floor below us. My orgasm ripped through me and I trembled and groaned as he pulled out, moving to stand before me and lowering me to my knees. He stroked himself lazily as I watched, fucking his fist before pushing his fingers into my hair and urging my mouth around him.
I parted my lips with a gasp and gratefully accepted his length down my throat as he thrust into me forcefully and relentlessly until he pulled out with a long moan and painted my face and lips with his release.
Moaning in delight I poked my tongue out and lapped his cum from my lips and chin. My knees trembled as he raised the chains, forcing my body upwards into a standing position.
My whole body ached. But I relished every burn. Every bruise and every strain. I wanted him to hurt me. To bend me, break me. To use me until he was sated and done. I wanted him to need me, like I needed him. Like air. I wanted him to exhaust me until his other life wasn't enough for him any more.
He released me, and moved to leave. He would walk away and take my heart with him. He would go back to his life; his home, his job. His wife. And I would wait, as always, longing and alone, aching until he used me again.
With my heart breaking and my voice cracking, I spoke up. "I love you, Edward."
"I know," he whispered as he passed through the doorway, his head lowering before his eyes met mine. His shoulders slumped in defeat. "It just isn't enough."