“Let me go!” When he released my arm to change his hold, I took advantage of the break and launched forward, but I didn’t get very far, only landing flat on my stomach and ending up with fistfuls of leaves and dirt in my clutching fingers.
His fingers dug into my hips in the next breath.
“Ow.” I growled.
He flipped me over, and I smacked his face, hard. His jaw mashed tight in fury, either mock or real, but he didn’t even look stunned as he seized my hands and fell on top of me. He rolled onto his back, spun me 45 degrees as he sat up and pinned me over his lap on my stomach with a more brutish twist on my arm than before. I tried to wrench free and kick, but pain shot through my shoulder every time I moved even a fraction.
I yowled. “Let me go! You are not punishing me! You are not! Let me go.” In the struggle that felt so real, my pussy was on fire and my lungs, uncooperative.
“Shut your lips and stop fighting it. It’s happening. Right now.” His hand fell firmly on my butt over my undergarments.
God, I was so freaking hot. “Ow! No.”
He let that hard smack stand alone for several moments, then he laid in and began peppering my cheeks, first, half-heartedly for a couple minutes, then, hard and fast, hurling me into a state where it stung beyond belief. Slaps kept coming and coming, flying viciously into my covered rear. He was warming me up with unrelenting heat, and it hurt like mad. I wasn’t sure if he was spanking me into a pit of hellfire like this because of the role or because he was super pissed at me, Addison. But this wasn’t fun by any means. Either way, I did deserve it.
“Ow, ow. Stop.” I squirmed. Regarding the level of pain I enjoyed and was able to stand, I could already tell he wasn’t going to be content with letting me stay in my safe zone for very long while playing in our D/s box. But would the pushing be for my benefit or for his? He hadn’t really put me to the test yet. “Let me go! You can’t do this to me! I’m a child of the King.”
“Right now, you are nothing but a bad girl, who’s in for a night of hell at my hand. Starting now.”
Suddenly, he switched from his hand to something hard and firm like a small paddle or a mighty brush. I have no clue where he got it or what, precisely, it was, but the sucker lifted up a scorch as he pummeled my tenderized flesh. I screeched and squirmed. He pinned my kicking legs by moving and shifting his right leg over them. He pressed down and dug harder into my back with his fist too. Now I had no way to wiggle out the stings. I had to just absorb the pain, hit after hit.
“Ow, ow. Stop! Pleee-hease”
“Oh, but we’re just getting started. It’s going to be a long night for you, Princess.”
I wailed for the next five minutes or so as he paddled me hastily and indeed made me burn, inside and out. He chucked the implement, whirled up and around with a shove to his feet and swung me over his shoulder with little effort.
“Let me go! I will slash your throat, you beast!” I was truly crying, but thankful for the walk to the carriage house that would give my butt a minute or two of reprieve. I hated when he turned my own damn kink on its head and made me loathe the pinking I usually loved as much as breathing.
It was a good thing he found me when he had. As soon as we started forward, the sky spilled cold tears, and they fluttered down my back and neck, stirring up a chill.
He carried me into a welcoming warmth and slammed the door, stealing me away from golden splays of moonlight and casting us into darkness. Either his eyes adjusted quickly or he knew this place by heart because he rushed through the room with stealth and ease. He whipped me over his shoulder but cradled the upper part of my spine in his palm and forearm as he lowered me to the floor. I’m glad I’m not allergic to hay. The sweet scent of it was inescapable and pungent. Quilted blankets were beneath me. I struggled and fought, kicking and punching him.
He straddled me, pinning my legs, and gathered my wrists in one hand. “Stop fighting me. It will only make your punishment worse.”
He had a ribbon noose ready for my hands. He slid it over them together, then wrapped them up with a few more passes and staked the ends to the ground above my head with three hard clangs. His package was right between my legs. And my bucking up only made us grind together and breathe faster. He laid on top of me, paralyzing what little mobility I had. But he didn’t stop moving. He was hard now and rubbing roughly against my slit.
“What a naughty princess. I’ll bet anything you’re wet in there. Aren’t you glad you have me to straighten out that whorish mind and bratty attitude?” His features emerged somewhat as my eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light.
I spit in his face. “Shut up. You are an incorrigible pig!”
He fingers dug, hard, into my inner thighs, making me writhe and yowl. “I don’t care who you are, if you insult or spit on me again, I will make you bleed.” He yanked the skirt of my dress up and bunched it around my waist. With only bloomers covering my arousal, I could feel more of him, grinding, grinding, grinding. Oh god!
I gasped and stopped struggling. “No, don’t. Don’t touch me! Please.” What a big, fat lie from my lips. He sounded deadly serious. And I was getting so fired up from the realism of this harsh, “non-consensual” play. Man, hope there’s more of this aggressive dude thing in store for me. He’s so hot! But my need to be filled with the love sword of a rogue was becoming unbearable. And I didn’t just want him inside me, I wanted to be “forcibly” taken. With his words and breaths more gruff and serrated, I could hear the lust and hunger brewing inside him. He wanted the same thing. He wanted to mutilate this dress and ransack my hidden folds of desire. My yearning for exactly that hitched up so madly, I shook and my throat itched to cry.
He ripped my petticoat off and peeled my bloomers and stockings down, making everything between my navel and feet birthday-bare. He sat up again, staying astride my legs, and drew circles with three fingers right on my sex. His warm, smooth skin on mine felt heavenly.
Fuck me. Oh, fuck me please. Since we were acting in a fake scenario, he probably wouldn’t. And I wasn’t sure how to encourage him to go for it and to blast into my wet, hot hallow that literally ached for him like nothing else. Maybe if I pissed him off some more? Or became a hellion he couldn’t resist. “Stop it! Stop touching me,” I yelled. “Stop it this instant!”
“Shameful. You are slick for love, my lady. I’d venture to guess, surely hitting accuracy with my arrow, that stopping is the very last thing you want me to do.”
Mmm. He was damn right about that. His touch was maddening and pulling my lids closed with whispers to sink in and enjoy it. To my utter sadness, he tore his fingers away, got off my body and began lighting some oil lamps. I did kind of like the illumination, but I wanted him back on top of me, and I wanted him barging into my crevices or ordering me to suck him dry.
As skinny flags of waving firelight cast orange glow around me, I took in my zone of capture. The stall was an old and weathered greyish brown and about 10x10. I pulled at the stake above my head, but my hands didn’t budge. I kicked my legs. “You will let me go! I insist!”
“Now what fun would that be?” He tugged down rattling chains that were attached to hooks in the ceiling, and I thrashed to stay out of his other hand before he secured me, but I was no match for him. I twisted, but he jerked my left leg at the same time, firing a jolt of pain through my calf muscle. He ripped off my shoe, which fell to the dirt with a thud, and my undergarments that were bunched there.
“Ow. Stop!”
He held my leg against his chest as he threaded ribbon from the chain to my legs. Setting my foot flat on the ground, he wrapped the ribbon around my bent knee several times, then spiraled it down my folded leg, securing my upper thigh about seven inches away from the back of my ankle.
“What are you doing? Let me go.”
I kicked his upper back with the heel of my free foot.
He then smacked my inner thigh so hard, it snatched my breath and bred tears. He was not kidding around.
I didn’t expect for him to be so into his rogue role. He was unbearably sexy.
He yanked off my other shoe and that side of my stockings and kept at his task, hammering two long pins into the ground right by my arch. Then he spread my bent legs apart and continued lacing the same ribbon around the other leg in reverse and tethering my knee to the other dangling chain. He came back down and clanged six more pins to the ground, two by my arch, and four along the span of ribbon between my spread legs. He added another set of satin ribbons around my bent knees to tug them further out at an angel and tied those ends to hooks in the wooden walls. My legs were stuck in this position, bent at the knee, fixed apart and spread open for anything. I would guess this must be similar to what a spreader bar feels like.
I throbbed and seeped down below as he stood and looked down on me. “I hate you. You are a loathsome scoundrel.”
“No doubt.” He puffed through his nostrils. “But that’s enough vicious bile from your lips. You will address me as Sir from now on. Got it?”
“The hell I will. This is brutish treatment! Spanking me to red and now chaining me up like a thief? You are nothing but a sick troll.”
“What did I say about insults?” He lunged at me, stopping in a crouch by my head, and he squeezed my cheeks hard in a very tight grip, one that hurt. A lot. Through clenched teeth, he spit out, “You will call me, Sir. Sir. Nothing else. Do you understand me?”
“Ow,” I said through smooshed fish lips. Blubbering sobs and tears percolated out of me because I was truly scared now and hornier than ever. I stopped trying to seduce him and decided to let him do whatever he wanted to do, even though I knew I’d ache miserably under the weight of my own cravings. That’s what a sub is supposed to do, especially in a scene, bow, only to be led. I knew my bad girl lust would get me into trouble. It’s been robbing me of the ecstasy I know comes with surrender, but no longer. I’ve felt it several times already when I’ve given myself over to him. I can’t even think of anything that compares to its beauty and the joy it brings. I feel so safe in his care, even as he guides me through surprises, and even into pain, surely. I am his. All his. I got a little high just from squelching myself with those words of resolve.
I thought this would feel fake in a way, like Addison and Logan just playing around, but he was all shock and awe, pulling me into a vivid capture scene where I really had no clue what to expect or who on earth he was. I so loved the freefall into the black hole of the unknown.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I choked out.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir. Happy?”
“Not … yet.” He brandished a knife, and it glinted in the flickering candlelight. He ran the flat side of it down my cheek.
Tears pricked my eyes and I wobbled and screamed. “What the hell! Don’t hurt me, please, please.”
“I haven’t decided how much I will hurt you, but you can count on some sweet pain coming your way, Princess. You’ve been a very bad girl...so naughty.”
My stomach roiled because I didn’t doubt he was serious. His predatory stare was so uncivilized.
He sliced through some of the laces on the bodice of my dress like butter, then ripped the top open, exposing my breasts to his hot gaze. With a giant gouge making it easier to lift, he shoved the entirety of my dress up over my head and hands, leaving it bunched around the pinned ribbons by my hands. I shivered at the exposure, even though it was just Logan. This didn’t feel familiar or cozy at all. There were a ton of dark hallways before us, and I wasn’t sure which ones he’d drag me down. My chest was heaving from the stimulation at being laid bare for his pleasure. I couldn’t help but laugh, though, as it hit me that I was literally in my own bodice ripper. Now, all I needed was to be stuffed with a throbbing member and whisked up to the billowy clouds. Maybe he was really going to take me without any prodding on my part. God, I hoped! Regardless, this was still pretty hilarious.
“Are you finding this funny?”
I was still giggling. “Not quite, Sir. I used to read tales of such scandalous things under the covers, with just the blink of lightning bugs in a jar. And now, it’s happening to me.”
“You should cease the foolish display of merriment. Nothing about this is funny. For all you know, you could be in grave peril. Laughter is not what I desire. I want your bones to quake.” He set the fisted knife between my breasts, turned his wrist so the blade was upside down and dug the sharp tip into my skin. And it hurt. Like hell.
I shrieked, “Ow, ow,” looked down, and jerked at my restraints. I freaked out when a little dot of blood bloomed before my eyes. He stabbed me! He fucking– “What the hell are you doing?” His brutality killed all traces of laughter, that’s for damn sure.
“I’ll bet those women didn’t get spanked or blindfolded or mind-fucked. I’ll bet they didn’t cry. Or Scream. But you will.”
I yanked at my hands and struggled to get up and screamed some more. “Let me go. You’re a sick fuck. Let me go. Let me up right now!” I was kind of serious. But in truth, I was the sick fuck, and I was terrified of that fact. This was so turning me on, the pain, the unknown, the terror, the dark embers in his eyes. I loved it all.
He pulled a flask out of his back pocket with a cotton ball, wet the puff with whatever the metal vessel contained and doused the little poke, making it burn. His preparation clearly said he intended on doing that, cutting my skin. How many more bloody pokes was he going to give me?
I moaned a Siren’s song, closed my eyes and arched my chest up at the bitter sting. I loved his rapid switch from viciousness to tenderness. I was dizzy and felt like I was waning from low blood sugar.
“I could let you go, after I check your body for corruption of course, but then you’d lose out on ecstasy like you’ve never experienced before. Whatever Heaven those wenches in your stories reached will be Hell compared to the paradise I could take you to.”
While dabbing the point mark, he bent over my stripped-down, spread-open body and left candy kisses on my breasts and shoulders.
“Will you stop fighting me, Princess? Will you concede and let me make good use of that sweet nectar dripping out of your body? Will you let me put that peasant to shame and turn him into worthless, wind-blown chaff in your mind?”
God, yes.
His kisses climbed my chest and neck and fell into a hypnotic rhythm on my lips. He seized my bound wrists, propping his torso up over me, then aligned with my sex and mashed his hardness against it. “Will you be my dirty whore, just for one night? You know you will be stuck in an arranged marriage one day, with some royal twit who favors men or doesn’t even know how to diddle your bits properly.” He bit my lip and tugged it down, then stuck his thumb in my mouth. “I’d start with that sassy tongue of yours. That poisonous snake needs to be tamed and charmed.”
I sucked on his dominant offering until he pulled it away. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“Yes, I said that, but no more knives, no more blood. Similar to the pain you’ve already experienced. You handled that very well, right? In fact, I know you quite liked it, the spanking and the stick of cold metal and the scorch of whiskey. But I will also give you pleasure too. Plenty of it. Maybe soon, you won’t be able to tell the difference. They could converge and become one. Pain was just beautiful to you, was it not?”
“Yes. A little.”
“I know how to make it very pretty. Will you give in to me?”
I nodded.
“I need to hear you. Say, ‘I am your whore. Do as you wish, Sir.’”
“I’m yours–”
He grabbed my face. “No! I am your whore. Say it.”
“I am...your whore. Do as you wish...Sir.”
“Very well, my lady.” He pulled a black scarf out of his back pocket and covered my eyes, then kissed my forehead. “Now’s about time to start getting nervous. Open that mouth. It’s tongue wrangling time.”
I did as he asked, and he jerked my head up, a tight c
lasp on my hair, then knelt really low and slid his dick into my mouth. He smelled like that manly soap that made my mouth water, and I moaned and breathed him in deeply just before he forced me to take the whole thing in. This time, I was more prepared and ready for the act, and I opened up wider and stuck my tongue out further. I was able to take this face-fucking more gracefully and comfortably than the last time he tracked along my tongue and stirred up saliva. As he pulled out to let me breathe, I only gagged once. I was not close to retching or anything of the sort, but my arms were aching so badly. I rolled my tongue around him and sucked him like a hungry, horny slut to show my appreciation for his gift. It was such a treat for me to pleasure him and suck him blind. He moaned and shivered as let me ride him for a while, his grasp on my hair loosening.
When he’d had enough, he let go of me and allowed my head to drop back down to the comfort of the quilt. “Mmm. Good girl. I think that tongue has finally learned to serve instead of slice. Wouldn’t you say so?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Very good.” He laid down next to me and raked up all my goose bumps when he dragged his knuckles down my neck, between my breasts, over my abdomen and bellybutton and bypassed my hot zone. Oh, how I ached for his hand to go there. “Oh, Princess. I can see yearning for more naughtiness on your pretty face. Your lips are parted, your head’s tilted back and your breasts keep bopping up to tease and tickle my eyes. What are you longing for?” His fingertips grazed up and down along my inner thigh and peppered me excruciatingly with random dots that didn’t move into the zone I wanted. The strokes on the very far edges of my petals were driving me mad.
My only thought for at least two minutes was, Go in, go in, go in. “Mmmm.”
“I’m not giving you what you want until you beg for it.”
“Please, Sir.”
He was still teasing me, edging so close, but cruelly avoiding everything moist and red within the folds of my swollen labia. “Yes?”
Red Hot Obsessions: Ten Contemporary Hot Alpha Male Romance Novels Boxed Set Page 226