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No Safeword: Matte - the Honeymoon

Page 14

by Candace Blevins


  There was no time to try to camouflage her footsteps now. He’d be to her in a matter of seconds.

  Deciding she didn’t want to be cornered, she waited until he was close and ran out and back towards the house. He’d have to change directions, which would give her another couple of seconds to come up with a plan.

  She surprised him as she ran by, and made sure she was far enough away he couldn’t grab her.

  The rain pummeled her flesh, her bare feet pounded the wet sand, and the noise of the cascading rain kept her from hearing how close Ethan was behind her. She didn’t want to take the time to look, but needed to know.

  A quick glance had her pushing for speed. Out of options, she made a sharp left, spun on her left foot, and dove at him as he shifted directions.

  Her hands landed on his right hip, and she allowed her elbows to bend before pushing away. He took a few steps backward, but didn’t go down. She landed on her feet in a squat, and sprang forward with a combination right-left-right before retreating. She landed all three, but figured only one would count as his definition of solid. She said, “One,” as she retreated, and he nodded as he got his feet under him and brought his hands up.

  The Ethan who fought her wasn’t her Ethan. His face was hard, his arms defensive, and his eyes calculating. He was her foe. He was the enemy, and her adrenaline kicked up a notch as she danced backward and looked for an advantage.

  They circled each other, eyes sharp, bodies alert and ready to move in an instant.

  The rain ceased to matter.

  Sam’s nightgown clung to her, and part of her brain registered she was clothed while Ethan was nude. His cock was semi-hard in anticipation, but Ethan was too focused on capturing and controlling Sam for it to be rock hard just yet.

  As tempting as it was to just turn and run again, Sam knew she needed to keep him in front of her, so she could strike if he came near. If he came at her from behind he could throw her over his shoulder and carry her off, or throw her to the ground and fuck her right here. She suppressed a shudder at the idea of him taking her on the sand.

  “What’s the matter, big guy? Afraid to take me?”

  Ethan didn’t react, didn’t smile, didn’t frown. He’d learned her tricks and wouldn’t give her any easy shots.

  Well, she could just do it the hard way, then. One shot at a time. He didn’t know all her tactics and maneuvers yet.

  Since Ethan didn’t hit her when they fought, it’d occurred to her she might get away with the self-defense moves designed for combat against people with no fighting skills. Ethan was trying to grab her and control her, not knock her out or wear her down with punches.

  She stepped in, broadcast for a rib punch, and caught him just under the jaw instead. His chin went up a few inches with the impact, and she took the opportunity to step in and catch the back of his knee with a sweep, strike his ribs where she’d faked earlier, and bash her elbow into the front of his bent knee before catching his foot with hers and dancing backwards out of reach.

  He hit the sand hard, closed his eyes against the rain, rolled to the side, and sprung to his feet.

  “Two, plus a takedown.”

  His face was still emotionless stone, his eyes still impassively analyzed her, and she could almost see the strategy wheels spinning in his head.

  She managed another combination, figured one strike and one kick should count, and said, “Three and four,” as she danced back.

  He reached for her and she barely evaded him, and delivered a hard enough downstroke to knock his arm out of the way that she was tempted to call it the fifth solid hit, but knew he’d meant body and face shots, so she didn’t.

  His stance felt different, and as they circled each other once more, she realized he wasn’t expecting her to try to take him down again. It didn’t take her long to recognize this could work in her favor. It was risky, but her gut told her a repeat of the first time she ever took him down would work. She telegraphed an intention to sidestep him, but at the last minute shifted her weight, grabbed for him, and used his own momentum to take him to the ground.

  On his way down she landed a solid right hook to his jaw, and she fought a wince as her knuckles protested the impact. He wasn’t down yet though, so she kicked out and landed her heel almost exactly where she’d elbowed his thigh earlier.

  He grunted in pain, and her heart skipped a few beats as she danced away from him and said, “Five and six.”

  Ethan got his feet under him but stayed in a squat. Sam didn’t meet his eyes, but let her focus go wide, so she could watch his hands, feet, and body for clues to his next move.

  He dove forward and wrapped his hand around her right ankle. He’d been aiming for both ankles, but she managed to get her left foot out of the way before his hand arrived.

  He yanked, and she allowed the momentum to pull her to the ground, but she kicked at his arm with her other foot. He was determined, though, and ignored the pain as he dragged her to him.

  She punched his jaw, but couldn’t get enough leverage and he totally ignored the strike — a buzzing insect might have bothered him more.

  Sam twisted to the side in an attempt to roll onto her stomach and hopefully break his grip, but he grabbed her arm with his other hand and dragged her close. In one swift move he let go of her foot, sat on her thighs, and reached for her other hand.

  Frantic, Sam punched him with her one remaining free limb. His face was out of reach, so she hit his abs as she aimed for his spine, and then lifted her arm and slammed her fist into the top of his thigh.

  He finally managed to grab her wrist, and he leaned forward and planted both of her forearms by her ears as he inclined his head and licked her cheek.

  “You’re mine, bitch, and you’ll pay for every time you hit me.”

  Ethan’s voice was terrifying, and his icy expression almost too much to handle.

  Sam lifted a leg and slammed her heel into his lower back. She couldn’t get enough force behind it to hurt him bad, but she had to keep fighting. Giving up wasn’t an option.

  With no warning, he let go of her hands, flipped her over on her stomach, and stood with his arm wrapped around her upper legs, positioning her in an inverted “V.”

  Sam’s hands scrabbled in the wet sand as she tried to keep her head off the ground. The water ran down her body in rivulets, and she felt his cock at her entrance seconds before he forced his way into her, pushing hard and fast, whether she wanted him there or not.

  Sam screamed at the invasion, helpless to stop it. She braced her arms better and struggled to breathe as rivers of water ran down her body and into her face, and Ethan’s huge cock drove into her, jerked out, and plunged into her again and again.

  Her hands scraped back and forth across the wet sand as he brutally fucked her. She wished she dared lift one of her hands long enough to brush her hair from her face and maybe redirect the water streaming into one of her ears. Unable to do anything else, she managed to tilt her head until the water changed direction.

  His hands were beginning to dig into her front thigh muscles, and she screamed, “You’re hurting me! My thighs!” and hoped he heard her through the torrential rain.

  He shifted his grip and moved his hands closer to her hips, but didn’t slow. The angle of her legs didn’t allow him to push all the way into her, but he was going far enough in she could feel him slamming into something, and it felt as if he were bruising her inside, as well as her inner thighs.

  Another couple of minutes passed, and Sam felt tears forming as she tried to support her weight on her arms while he ravaged her from behind. Without warning he drove in, held, and lifted her body. One hand clamped down on her breast and she yelped as he squeezed her left nipple. His other hand reached for her right wrist, and he folded his arm across her torso, taking her arm with it. He released her left nipple and spun her around before taking her to the ground on her back.

  Before she had a chance to find her equilibrium, he pushed forward so her fee
t were over her head, and had both ankles in one hand as he maneuvered her like a ragdoll.

  Sam tried to strike around her legs as he positioned at her asshole, but she couldn’t get enough leverage to do any damage as he forced his way into her.

  Just as he sank deep into her ass, he closed his eyes and dropped his head enough she could get to him, and she landed another strike to his chin, but refrained from letting him know it was the seventh. His eyes flew open and he grabbed her hand as he leaned in again and said, “How’s it feel to get buggered up the ass, little girl? I’m gonna ream your ass good.”

  Frantic, Sam hopelessly fought to free her legs, to strike him with her left hand — still free for the moment — or to wiggle and move enough to dislodge him, but he’d effectively captured her, and there was nowhere to go, no way to stop him.

  His cock plunged into her, pulled out, shoved back in, and she screamed into the rain, knowing no one would hear.

  It didn’t take him long to come, and his entire demeanor changed when he did. However, before he dropped to the sand he focused his green eyes on her and said, “We good?”

  Sam smiled. “Well, I didn’t come, but other than that, yeah.”

  He collapsed on the ground beside her and said, “Thank you for that. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He had to shout a little, to be heard over the rain.

  Sam put her mouth closer to his ear, so she wouldn’t have to yell. “I was worried more about you; I landed a few hits harder than I intended.”

  He rolled to his side and kissed her cheek. “I’m good, Darlin’.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ethan insisted they shower in different bathrooms, and told Sam to take her time. “I need to run to the store, so do the shampoo and conditioner thing, and then take your time with the blow dryer.”

  Sam assumed he was leaving to buy plastic wrap, which meant she was a horny mess while she showered. She didn’t go check on him before blow-drying her hair, as she figured he wanted some time to set up without her watching.

  When she finally stepped into the great room, she saw half a dozen rolls of plastic wrap, a scalpel, the first-aid scissors, and a variety of butt plugs, dildos, and vibrators.

  “Thank you, Master.”

  He looked up from his tablet and grinned. “You’re welcome, but we’ll see if you still want to thank me in a few hours. You’ve used the bathroom and are ready to begin?”

  “Yes, Sir. I am.”

  He pointed to a rope he’d looped over the rafter, and Sam obediently walked to it and stood still as he wrapped the filmy plastic around her abdomen a few times before running it through the rope loop over her head, and then encircling her abdomen a few more times.

  “Grab your elbows behind your back, please.” His voice, issuing commands, was enough to make her wet even without the plastic wrap. With it? She had to work to keep from wriggling and twisting her hips.

  The plastic wrap went around her chest and arms, and he took special care to mash her breasts as flat as possible.

  “Right knee up, against your belly.”

  He bound her abdomen and thigh together, and then lifted her foot and encased her knee and shoulder, skipped her face, and ran it around her foot and up to the rope over her head.

  Ethan enveloped her shoulders and torso in multiple layers, and then leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Trust, Samantha. Actions speak so much louder than words.”

  He stepped around her, lifted her by her hipbones until she was horizontal, and ran the flexible plastic between her torso and the rope loop a half a dozen times before slowly releasing her and allowing the plastic wrap to support her weight. Sam worked to stay relaxed and show she trusted him to take care of her, trusted he’d make sure the plastic would support her before releasing her.

  Most of her weight was on her hipbones, with the rest spread throughout her torso. The portion on her right foot mostly served to help with balance, and didn’t bear her weight. Her left leg hung straight down, though she had a feeling that would soon change as she stared at the floor.

  Sure enough, he bent her leg and bound her ankle and calf to her thigh before looping the plastic through the overhead rope to hold her leg out to the side and parallel to the floor.

  Cool air caressed her spread open pussy as she watched him gather a large vibrating butt plug, dildo, and butterfly. Sam tried to relax into the bondage as he inserted the toys and then used plastic wrap to hold the butterfly over her clit, as well as seal the dildo and plug inside her. He didn’t turn anything on yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time.

  Even turned off, the toys had her half crazy. Spread open, dangling, and totally out of control of what happened to her body. Not even a safe word.

  It wouldn’t take much for her to come, and she hoped he was in a mood to let her.

  * * * *

  Ethan stepped away from his new wife and pulled off a two-foot length of plastic wrap, conflicted about what he was planning to do. He knew this was one of Sam’s kinks, but he was worried she’d only asked for it in an attempt to prove how much she trusted him. Still, he’d do it a little and see where it went.

  He casually carried the stepstool to her head, and sat on it so they were practically eye-to-eye. He smoothed the strip of cling-wrap over his thighs so he could use it when ready, and said, “How far do we have to go to prove my ownership of you?”

  “Umm, I think you did that by fucking my ass, Master. And by marrying me. And maybe even fighting with me on the beach. Sir.”

  God, she was so beautiful right now, deep into subspace and forcing herself to form intelligible sentences. “How about the enemas?”

  “Yes, those too. Master.”

  He was beginning to see a pattern in her use of Master versus Sir. She tended to use Master more when she was in subspace, or feeling especially submissive. They’d need to work on when it was appropriate, as she might get away with accidentally calling him Sir in front of the vanillas, but not Master.

  “I want to control your breath, Samantha, and I want you to ask me to do it.”

  “I already asked, Master.”

  Her eyes were soft, and he didn’t think she was intentionally being a smart-ass, so he only said, “I’d like to hear it from your lips.”

  “It’s so hard to ask for. It’s scary. Terrifying, and the knowledge I don’t have a safeword…” She came out of her headspace a little as she realized this wasn’t an idle request, and her eyes focused on him as she said, “Please, Master, prove your ownership of me by showing us both you aren’t afraid to take my breath. Sir.”

  Ethan nodded once, lifted the plastic wrap from his thighs, and pressed it to her cheeks so it covered both her nose and mouth. He caressed her cheek with his thumb through the plastic as their gazes locked.

  Sam tried to stay calm, tried so hard to keep from struggling and fighting, but eventually the terror took over and she thrashed in her bondage. Ethan pulled the plastic back and his cock throbbed in his shorts as she sucked air into her lungs.

  “So helpless, all wrapped up. Let’s see if this helps.” He reached into his pocket and turned the butt plug on high. Her lower body jerked, but she stayed focused on replenishing her body with oxygen.

  He wadded the plastic and tossed it onto a nearby chair, reached for the roll, and stood to rearrange her. He wanted her body inclined a little, so her face was easier to get to. It didn’t take long to loop enough plastic between her chest and the rope to raise her head, and soon he sat back down with another two-foot length of plastic.

  “Who owns you?”

  “You do, Master.”

  This time he wrapped the plastic around her head, making sure to keep it below her eyes, as it was important for him to have eye contact with her during this. He slowly stood and removed his shorts, and placed the three remotes on the floor by the stepstool before he stepped nearer and leisurely masturbated in front of her face.

  He kept a close eye on her fear and coloring, and a few second
s after she went into full-on panic he poked a hole twice as big around as his thumb in the plastic wrap at her mouth. She couldn’t suck air in as fast through the smaller hole, but it was enough to keep her safe, even if she didn’t think so. He reached for the remotes and flicked all three to high for a half a minute, and then randomly took each to low and back to high until she looked like she’d reach climax if she had more oxygen.

  “You don’t have permission to come, by the way.”

  Her eyes flew to his, silently begging him to give her more air and let her orgasm, but he only held his hand over her mouth to a count of ten before releasing once more.

  “Who owns you?”

  She sucked in enough air to say, “You do, Master,” and her muffled voice behind the plastic had his cock pulsing impossibly larger.

  He palmed himself again and said, “You see what this does to me? Nothing turns me on as much as a raw display of your trust.”

  He reached towards her mouth and ripped the plastic open so he could pull it completely off her head. He made sure she had at least thirty seconds of clear breathing before he stuck his cock in her warm mouth, and stayed far enough away from her throat she could still breathe through her nose for another five minutes. He coached her into using her tongue, reminding her she wanted to please him enough so he wasn’t tempted to fuck her throat just yet.

  When she no longer seemed more interested in breathing than pleasuring him, and her coloring had fully returned to normal, he pushed to the back of her throat and held until she was thrashing once again. When he finally dragged his cock out of her throat, tears streamed down her face and saliva flowed from her mouth. He fiddled with the vibrators again while he let her catch her breath, and left them on high as he grabbed the scalpel and sat on the stool in front of her breasts.

  “You know you need to be very still for this, right?”

  It was impossible for her to keep her chest still while breathing heavily, and they both knew it. She’d have to find enough willpower to hold her breath while he cut the plastic away from her breasts.

 

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