by Brandi Evans
She shook her head. “Not that one, Sir.”
He set the crop down. “Which one?”
“The one I want isn’t on the table.”
He froze. He’d left something specifically off—something he’d given her as a gift. Was that what she wanted?
Leaving the table behind, he returned to Genny. He didn’t touch her. He suddenly didn’t trust himself to. He had to keep his head about him until she got out whatever she needed to say.
“What do you want then, pet?”
Her lips parted, but nothing came out. She closed her mouth again, and her Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
“Despite what you’ve accused me of on many occasions, Genny, I can’t actually read your mind. You’re gonna have to use your words.”
“I know. It’s harder to say than I thought it would be, Sir. It’s like I want to say it, but then I get scared.”
“Overcoming your own mind is often the hardest thing for a sub. Giving yourself to another person and relinquishing complete control takes strength, and I know you’re strong enough.”
Her eyelids fluttered closed briefly. “Everything feels so much clearer when you’re touching me, Sir. I need your touch, now, more than ever.”
Taking a calming breath, still not entirely trusting himself to touch her, he traced his right index finger along her cheek, to her neck, and outlined the crisscrossing lines of her tattoos as he worked his way to her hand. Careful of her restraints, he linked their fingers. He repeated the act on the opposite side until his position mirrored hers. His stance was symbolic. He was as irrevocably bound to her as she was to the cross; just as she was powerless to escape her bindings, he was powerless to escape her pull.
“Genny.” His lips played with hers as he spoke, but he didn’t kiss her. “I swear on my life I’d rather die than ever hurt you. I—”
I love you. But the words wouldn’t come out; strike that, he didn’t let them out.
Something he’d spoken moments ago came back to him: Overcoming your own mind is often the hardest thing for a sub. Apparently, it was hard for Doms, too.
“I don’t want to be afraid of the past, Carter,” she murmured. “I want to give you everything I have to give.”
The use of his name threatened to do him in. Before, he’d been able to lie to himself. He’d been able to keep the sex strictly between a Dom and his submissive, but he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. Not only had he let her use of his name go unpunished; he wasn’t upset by it. He’d fucking liked it; it spoke to an intimacy he’d never shared with a sub.
How entwined and off-kilter things had become since their first night together.
“I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone,” she continued. “That’s why I know I can ask you this.” She paused for a long moment, her breath mingling with his. “Inside my purse is the gift you gave me. Will you get it, Sir? Will you flog me with it?”
“Genny, love, flogging you would be my greatest pleasure.”
Raven had craved Carter’s kisses from their first night together, but tonight, they were sweeter than ever.
He kissed her for what felt like a year. Slowly. Thoroughly. As intimate a kiss as she’d ever experienced. But the best part was that the kiss didn’t feel like it was leading anywhere; it was a joining of two into one, an act more intimate than the act of sex itself.
An eternity later, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “What’s your safeword?”
His question made her smile. After everything they’d done thus far, he still desired to keep her safe. “Red, Sir,” she answered.
“If things ever feel like they’re going too far, if I make you feel too much, all you have to do is say it, and I stop.”
She wanted so badly to soothe the wrinkles on his forehead. Now that she’d said yes, he was suddenly the one who looked terrified.
“I know how safewords work, professor. I had a very thorough teacher.”
The briefest of smiles played with his lips. “Or you can say yellow. We haven’t covered that one yet, but basically, it just tells me you’re approaching your limits.”
“Yellow, Sir. Understood.” And having the word made her feel that much more confident.
He kissed her briefly, and when he pulled back, her controlled Dom was back in full form. He tugged the satin lace at the top of her bodice. “Let me help you get a little more comfortable before we get started.”
“You’re all heart, Sir.”
When her bodice fell away, he stole the opportunity to capture both her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. “I will never get used to the sight of your inked body, the way it accentuates your curves and puts your breasts on display.”
She gasped as he gave her nipples one final squeeze and then stepped behind her and fastened the blindfold in place.
He grazed his hands up her outer thighs, grasped the lower edges of her cutoff skirt, and eased the material upward. “You’re mine, tonight, pet, and I’m going to take my time getting acquainted with how you and your gorgeous body respond to this new stimulus.”
A shiver chased down her spine. “I can’t wait, Sir.”
“Be careful what you wish for, my pet.” He kissed her neck before leaving her alone on the cross.
The padding of feet on the tile floor was replaced by the sultry strains of a female singer. Raven didn’t recognize the song, but the songstress sang a haunting, rhythm-heavy ballad about drilling brains full of holes, catching memories, and something about a Master’s hands.
Strange but appropriate.
She didn’t sense Sir’s approach until he was almost on her. Pressed firmly into her from behind, he cupped her pussy with his big hand—and something else.
Something silicone.
A dildo?
“I’m going to make you come,” he said matter-of-factly as he eased the hard silicone inside her. This wasn’t just a dildo; it was a full-fledged vibrator, the kind with little prongs that tickled her clit. “Before any leather strikes your skin. Maybe I’ll make you come twice. I want to make sure you’re relaxed and in the proper mindset. I want to create a link in your brain that leather equals pleasure. Pain and pleasure are two sides of the same coin.”
She swallowed the ball forming in her throat but didn’t speak.
The gentle tickle of whatever toy he had vibrated to life, drew an instant full-body shudder. Goosebumps raced over her, making her skin feel electrified, like she was hooked to a low-volt battery with one job.
To make her horny as fuck.
“I’ll never tire of the way your body responds,” he said. “I swear you were created to respond to the way I touch you.”
His words magnified her sensitivity. The way he made her feel did things to her which didn’t make sense, foreign but powerful. Of course, the increase of the vibrator didn’t help matters.
Or was that did help?
“Sir.” Her hips thrust forward of their own accord, rocking against his manipulations and seeking the pleasure he was poised to draw from her.
“That’s it, beautiful. Take your pleasure.” He kissed her neck, nipped at the pounding vein below the surface. “Don’t hold back. Take it. Fuck yourself. That’s it. That’s it.”
His words were hypnotic, and he stroked deeper into her body, increasing the vibrations. Reality turned fuzzy at the edges, and a familiar tightening began in her extremities and pushed inward, collapsing in on her until her body was wound so taut, she wondered if a broken bone might be a legit possibility.
She clenched her pussy muscles around the dildo. “Oh fuck.” She was so close. Her womb felt like it was drawing in on itself in anticipation. “Sir.”
The vibrations increased again, and her breath stalled. Her toes literally curled, and her fingers flexed. All the muscles in her abdomen tightened. Every particle in her body sat poised at the moment before release.
“More,” she begged.
The teasing tails of the flogger played o
ver the outer edge of her thigh, and everything plunged into overdrive. The sudden burst of arousal caught her off guard, and she went into an emotional free fall as her orgasm swept through her like fire through a dry plain.
Screaming through the pleasure, she jerked and spasmed against her restraints and his hand. The leather tails were always on the move. Over the flare of her hip, her lower belly, her breasts. Her nipples hardened beneath the sensations. No strikes yet, only friction. Sensation. The scrape of leather over sensitive skin.
“That’s it, pet. Let the pleasure sweep through you. Embrace it and let go of everything but the sensations of the vibrator inside you, stroking deep, of the flogger as its tails play over your skin…”
Her climax went on forever—and then some—and by the time she came back to reality, she was having great difficulty telling which way was up.
Fuck.
He eased the vibrator from her sex and replaced the artificial cock with his fingers. “Oh yeah. Very nice. And very wet. I think someone’s sufficiently loose; wouldn’t you say?”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
“Good.” Keeping his fingers wedged inside her, he repositioned his body.
How much longer would he keep her blindfolded?
He switched from using teasing wisps to the softest of taps against her thighs and ass. She pictured him in her mind’s eye and knew his gaze was glued to hers, examining her, forever on the lookout for the slightest adverse change in her reaction. Sir would probably see her safeword in her expression before it formed in her mind.
“I’m ready for more, Sir.” The words were stronger than she’d expected. “I’m strong enough now.”
“You were always strong enough, Genny.”
A tightening started in her chest, and she wished she could have seen his expression as he stepped back, letting his fingers slide free from her body.
Indeterminable sounds wrapped her attention, and time stretched on for eternity. Anticipation had her locked squarely in its prison.
Thwack.
The flogger connected with her upper thigh, and she froze, every muscle going rigid. Pain, however, wasn’t what had her; it was surprise. Sir was holding back, and while she appreciated his concern, in for a penny, in for a pound.
She recalled watching Marina on stage with Master Stephen. “Harder, Sir. Please.” The words almost caught in her throat, and she had to force them free. “Please.”
Thwack.
The new blow landed harder than its predecessor but on the opposite thigh. Her breath caught. The jolt began as an intense burning before spreading out, father and farther until—
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
Thigh, outer breast, thigh, all on the same side.
“Oh god.” The heat turned into an inferno, and her breath grew shallower. She hovered on some precipice between enjoyment and discomfort, and a war waged to life inside her. Pleasure versus pain, and she couldn’t tell which she wanted to win.
Every stroke tormented her with something she didn’t quite understand.
Sir repeated the same thigh, outer breast, thigh sequence on the opposite side, again and again until her torso burned, inside and out. It made no goddamn sense, but she wanted… something.
“Please, Sir—”
Please stop.
Please give me more.
Please… something.
Her head wagged back and forth. She couldn’t interpret all the new sensations attacking her simultaneously.
Thwack.
Inner thigh this time, a few random tails contacting her labia.
No.
Yes.
Fuck.
She wanted to close her legs. If he flogged her there, she’d die. Or maybe come? Scream for days? Instinctively, her fingers flexed, and she fidgeted on the unforgiving cross, but the restraints allowed her no more movement.
“Sir.” She heard tears in her voice, but none warmed her cheeks. “I can’t. I—fuck!” The first tendrils of another climax unfurled in her belly.
“That’s it, pet,” Sir crooned. “Embrace the strange sensations. They’re foreign to your body, to your mind. Your mind’s having trouble deciding what to think about them, but your body is embracing them.”
Very aptly put.
Another blow landed, this time on the back, outer thigh, and then another on her upper arm. She fought to bring her fears inward and to focus only on Sir, on what he did to her body.
The familiar lyrics of a song caught her attention, and she grabbed onto the libido-pumping voice of Adam Levine as he sang a song about going hard and going to war, about being satisfied and guilty as hell. About not using the head and letting it all go.
Indeed, Adam. Indeed.
“What I wouldn’t give to have access to the fucking machine Master Stephen likes to use with Marina,” Sir said, his voice as mesmerizing as the flogger in his hands. “Watching it fuck you, while I flogged you, your skin a beautiful mix of ink and pink. The machine pumping into you, drilling you, forcing you closer and closer to orgasm. Talk about fucking hot.”
The picture he painted with his words formed in her mind and stuck there.
Sir moved closer, and his lips caressed her ear. “I wish it was my dick inside you, Genny.”
“Me too, Sir.”
“Stroking hard and deep into your sweet little pussy.” Letting the flogger go still, he teased the hard handle between her labia. He didn’t try to penetrate her; he rubbed the flat part of the handle back and forth over her clit.
She gasped as her growing climax burned hotter, trapped somewhere deep, deep within her core, so deep she wasn’t sure it was physically possible for it to make its way to the surface.
“And I wouldn’t stop fucking you either,” Sir continued. “Not until your body surrendered to me, until I claimed you so thoroughly no other man would ever be able to satisfy you ever, ever again.”
No other man.
Not Dom.
Raven couldn’t help but read intimacy into his words, whether he’d intended it or not.
“Even then, I probably wouldn’t be able to stop.” He pulled the flogger away, and when the leather returned, the strikes nearly stole her breath. With quick, gentle strokes, he flogged her sex, her labia, her fucking clit. Nothing was spared his constant attention.
“It’s too much, Sir. I can’t—”
But an orgasm exploded inside her with a fury she’d never experienced. Her adrenaline spiked, and she couldn’t control her body. She twitched and jerked as the climax threatened to steal every ounce of breath from her body.
Up was down.
Pain was pleasure.
Submission was the ultimate freedom.
Carter dropped the flogger to the ground with a thud and replaced the leather with his fingers. He worked Genny’s wet, swollen clit as her orgasm cycled. Random sounds leaked from between her parted lips, but none of the sounds made sense. She could be speaking in tongues for all he knew. In all his years practicing the lifestyle, he’d never had a sub orgasm like this.
Could she breathe?
In answer to his unasked question, she raked in a full breath which reverberated around the room with a raspy growl, so he worked her pussy faster, pushing her higher until his arms felt the burn of overuse.
He wasn’t sure what petered out first, his biceps or her orgasm, but by the time she went still, they were both breathing hard. Her muscles had gone lax, and she hung limp on the cross. Working quickly, he unfastened the straps at her ankles, but he slowed his actions when it came to her wrists. If he released her too fast, he feared she’d collapse, and he didn’t want her to get hurt.
Positioning himself on her left side, one arm fastened around her waist, he freed her left wrist, and the second her right hand was free, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.
She said something, but he couldn’t make it out. Her words were slurred, almost like she was drunk.
“Shh, pet,” he murmured, wiping back the hai
rs clinging to her sweaty forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
More unintelligible mutterings.
He made quick work of turning down the lights, of grabbing food and water from the fridge, of shedding his clothes, and rolling a condom into place.
She made no protest as he settled between her quivering legs. She made less of a protest as he drove his hips forward and buried his cock deep in her pussy.
“Genny.” He nuzzled the side of her neck, but he didn’t begin thrusting. And he wouldn’t, not until she’d regained some semblance of composure. He’d needed the physical, whole-body connection too badly to wait any longer. “My Genny.”
He kept whispering to her, running his palms over as much of her exposed skin as he could manage, and after a while, she began to move, sluggishly at first, but when she managed to wrap her arms weakly around his middle, it was game fucking on.
He stroked into her without thought, lost in the way her body responded to him, even if her mind was only halfway back.
She turned her head and caught his jaw in a sloppy kiss. He kissed her back, but he was too far gone to do much more than cover her mouth with his. He ate her every groan, took them inside him where they grew, strengthened, forcing him to surrender to her.
“Carter.” His name left her lips like a prayer.
Of all the subs he’d ever taken, she was the first to use his name in bed. She was the first woman to hold any power over him since Emily, but even with Emily, he’d never felt a connection like this. And it terrified him. But as the first jets of hot cum shot from his cock, he quit thinking, stopped analyzing. He just existed in the moment with the amazing woman in his arms.
The woman he loved.
Chapter 10
Carter knocked back his third cup of coffee of the morning. If he didn’t start getting more sleep, he’d be approaching zombie status very soon, but having Genny in his bed every night made actual sleep difficult, mainly because she kept his dick in a stage of permanent hardness. Not that he was complaining.