He stood, his presence towering over her as he grabbed her wrists and flipped her onto all fours.
"Time for your punishment." His hand cracked against her ass, the sharp sting making her gasp, a broken moan slipping from her lips.
"This is for running away from me." Another slap, harder this time. She whimpered, her body trembling.
"This is for yesterday's little adventures."
Another. Her skin burned, her arousal only intensifying. A needy cry escaped her, her thighs clenching together instinctively.
"This is for playing with me today."
And then one final strike, his fingers digging into her flesh. She moaned, her breath ragged, the heat from his touch overwhelming her.
"And this," he growled, aligning himself with her soaked entrance, "is for being my wife."
Then he slammed into her, tearing a sharp, helpless cry from her throat. Her body jolted forward, hands gripping the sheets as she gasped for air. The stretch burned, overwhelming, yet her moan was laced with something darker—something needy.
Simon's fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her head back as he drove into her again, harder this time. "That's it," he rasped, his breath hot against her ear. "Let me hear you."
A broken moan spilled from her lips, her walls fluttering around his cock, her body caught between pain and unbearable pleasure. His grip tightened on her hips, nails digging into her skin as he set a brutal pace, each thrust forcing another ragged, desperate sound from her throat.
"Fuck—Simon," she whimpered, barely able to form words.
He only growled, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back inside, sending her spiraling. Every thrust was deep, punishing, claiming. She was unraveling—completely at his mercy.
"Mine," he gritted out, his voice dripping with possession. "Say it."
Her breath hitched as she felt herself tightening, the pressure inside her coiling unbearably. "Y-yours," she gasped. "I'm yours."
A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Good girl." Then he fucked her even harder.
After a brutal night, Stella lay limp in his arms, her body utterly spent. Her skin was flushed, marked by his touch, the lingering heat of their passion still pulsing through her veins. Simon held her close, his grip possessive even in the quiet aftermath, as if afraid she might slip away.
Her breath was soft, uneven, her body melting against his as exhaustion finally overtook her. A satisfied smirk played at his lips as he brushed his fingers through her tangled hair.
"Sleep, little fish," he murmured, his voice husky, laced with something almost tender.
And in his arms—claimed, ruined, utterly his—Stella finally surrendered to the pull of sleep.
The next day, sunlight peeked through the large bedroom windows, casting a warm glow over her bare skin. Stella slowly stirred awake, her body sore, her limbs heavy, and the memory of last night still burning between her thighs. She groaned, shifting slightly under the silk sheets, and then felt a warm, intense gaze on her.
She turned her head and found Simon already awake, his dark eyes lazily roaming over her naked body, a sinful smirk curving his lips.
"Good morning, Mrs. Winchester," Simon murmured, his voice husky and dripping with affection as his gaze drank her in.
Stella rubbed her sleepy eyes, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Good morning, Mr. Winchester," she replied, her voice laced with the remnants of sleep.
A dreamy chuckle escaped her. "I can't believe I'm married," she said, shifting slightly as the silk sheets brushed against her bare skin, making her recall every moment of last night.
Simon didn't let her move far. He slid his arm around her waist and effortlessly pulled her naked body onto his lap, his touch possessive and tender. Burying his face into the curve of her neck, he inhaled her scent like a man utterly starved. "And I can't believe you're mine," he rasped, placing a lingering, reverent kiss on the mark he'd left on her neck the night before. She slightly winced at the shift.
Simon immediately noticed. "Sore?" he asked, a wicked glint in his eyes.
Stella bit her lip. "My legs are aching," she confessed, her cheeks heating up as last night's memories flooded her mind — the way Simon had absolutely wrecked her against the glass, on the bed, and every inch of the room.
Simon hummed, his lips brushing against her ear. "I'm sorry, baby… but I think it's all your fault," he teased, his hand slowly trailing down her bare stomach.
Stella's breath hitched. "And I loved every inch of it," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.
Simon let out a deep, primal growl, his grip on her waist tightening. "Don't say that, baby… or I swear I'll keep you in this bed and ruin you again until you can't even walk."
Her core clenched painfully at his words. "Maybe I want that," she dared to say, deliberately shifting her hips over his hardening cock beneath her.
Simon's eyes darkened dangerously. "You're playing with fire, Stella."
She smiled innocently, tracing his jaw. "And I love getting burned by you."
A deep, menacing chuckle escaped his throat. "Little tease," he muttered, before effortlessly lifting her in his arms. Stella let out a surprised yelp as he carried her, stark naked, toward the bathroom.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked breathlessly.
"To clean you up," he answered darkly. "But knowing me…" He smirked. "I'll probably make you dirtier again."
After getting dressed, they both settled in the living room, Stella curled up against Simon on the couch. He'd made them both coffee, and as they sipped, their conversation naturally drifted to work.
"So… about the Cooper project," Stella began, her tone shifting into professional mode. "The investors will be arriving next week, and I was thinking of preparing a detailed presentation for you to pitch."
Simon leaned back, his arm resting around her waist as his thumb lazily stroked her hip. "Hmm… and what's your plan?"
Stella smiled, her passion for work kicking in. "I was thinking of adding the company's five-year profit chart to highlight how steady the growth has been. If we show them the statistical projections, it might push them to agree to invest double the amount."
Simon smirked, clearly impressed. "My brilliant wife," he murmured, brushing his knuckles against her jaw. "You're making my job too easy."