by Maya Banks
She sighed when his hands cupped her buttocks and kneaded, gentle and loving. There was a marked difference between his touch and Cole’s. There was more regard, a respect and tenderness that lacked Cole’s clinical, methodical approach to preparing her.
Something soft, yet firm with the coolness of plastic or maybe rubber, ran lightly down her spine, eliciting a shiver from coiled muscles. It trailed over her buttocks then back up her side and to her shoulder. Damon walked slowly around to her front and she could now see that he held a long crop in his hand. The tip touched her ear, traced a circle around her lobe before stroking softly over her cheek to her lips in a gentle kiss.
He stopped there, watching her with dark eyes, holding the crop to her parted lips.
“Lick it,” he commanded, low and husky. “Pretend it’s my cock. Show me how you’d suck it.”
Her eyes flew upward so she could watch his reaction. She dipped her tongue over the edge of the crop, absorbing the taste and texture of the leather. Growing bolder, she swiped at the flat side with a long lick before catching the flap between her teeth and sucking it inside her mouth.
He coaxed it deeper with a quick slide of his hand, and she savored the supple give as it rolled over her tongue. When he pulled back, she balanced it delicately on her bottom lip before he finally let the crop fall away.
Adjusting his grip, he popped the tip on his leg as he walked behind her. She lost him in her vision, and her breath caught and bubbled in her throat as she entered the unknown.
“Pain can be many things,” Damon said just to her left. “Or it can just be pain. What will it be for you, Serena mine?”
The crop whistled as it sliced through the air. Before she could tense, pain, bright and explosive, sheared like lightning over her skin. Her body jerked in response, and she cried out. Before she could say the first word that sprang to her lips, heat simmered over her buttocks where before fire had flashed.
A warm hum, heady and pleasurable, invaded her veins, making her heavy and sluggish. It was difficult to process this odd pain that turned so quickly to pleasure. She wanted more. Feared it, but craved it in equal measure.
Fire tore through her other ass cheek as the slap of leather met flesh. Before she could suck in her breath and wait for the aftermath, Damon sliced the crop across her buttocks again.
She flinched, and he struck again, not as hard this time and over the sensitive skin just below the curve of her ass. Ribbons of razorblades ran circles over her skin.
Astonishingly, as she opened her mouth to ask him to stop, she found herself begging him for more. Please. More. She heard the words trip precariously from her lips like they’d been dragged from a reluctant tongue.
The crop found untouched skin. The leather covered every inch of her ass until heat poured off her flesh like liquid fire.
Damon ceased and she gave a little moan, whether of relief or regret, she wasn’t sure. Not moving from behind her, he leaned against her back, reaching and finding her breast. He flicked lightly at the tortured nipple, and her reaction was instantaneous. Feeling poured in, white hot, leaving her gasping and her eyes watering. But just as the blow to her ass bled into slow, sweet pleasure, so too did the fire die a quick death in her nipple and instead pleasure bloomed. Curled with desire and pushing upward as though seeking the sun.
He pulled away, giving one last tweak to the hypersensitive nipple.
“I wish you could see how beautiful you look,” he murmured. “Stretched before me, open and giving. Your skin is radiant with my mark. It’s like a warm blush, red in some places, pink in others.”
She closed her eyes against the seduction in his voice. She felt beautiful when he spoke so. Cherished and treasured.
A loud pop echoed through the room, startling her first with the sound, and then the sizzle of red hot pain made her body surge forward, tearing and straining against the bonds that held her tight.
Tears stung her eyes, pricked at her eyelids and threatened to spill over. Again and again the crop rained down over her ass, her hips, the small of her back and up to her shoulders.
There was no pity, no mercy, no reprieve from the pain. And then, like a sunrise, the warm, hazy glow of indescribable pleasure rose and spread across her skin. A gossamer veil enveloping her in silk. Was she insane to want something so badly? To suffer for the ultimate ecstasy?
The room blurred, whether from the narcotic-like embrace of pleasure or from her tears, she wasn’t sure. She floated, light and free. No longer was she restrained. She flew. Surrounded by a warm, comfortable glow. She smiled dreamily and let her chin drop to her chest.
Unbelievably, an orgasm stirred, awakened and spread like stretching at dawn. It gathered momentum and surged through her exhausted body, tightening each nerve receptor, making the pain of the crop rise until she couldn’t tell the difference between a lash and the sweetest of kisses.
And then the pain went away, and she moaned in protest. Her orgasm lay suspended, waiting on edge, poised to hurl her over a jagged cliff.
Hands gripped her waist. A cock nudged at her ass. Her pussy clenched, feeling neglected. Damon shoved, impatiently, and lodged himself inside her ass in one forceful lunge.
Her ass, so sensitive from the crop, quivered each time he slid his hands over the raised welts. His grip tightened, and he began fucking her with brutal intensity.
The force of his thrusts shook her body, made her breasts jiggle, and each movement made the teeth of the clamps bite harder into her nipples.
She knew she was being observed, that men and women alike watched her with lust in their eyes. In that moment she didn’t care. There was only her and Damon, fucking her, owning her, showing her that here she had no power except what he gave her.
She was beyond her limits. She had no control of the ragged pleas that tore from her mouth. Was she begging him to stop or begging for more? The only word she kept closely guarded, bound to her as tightly as she was bound to the frame was no. She wouldn’t say it. Didn’t want it to end.
“Release her,” Damon said as he rammed against her ass again.
Hands cupped her breasts and suddenly the jaws of the clamps opened, freeing her nipples. Feeling, sharp and agonizing, returned to nipples that had been numb, tore through her and sent her spiraling into a yawning abyss.
Her eyes opened and widened, her lips formed a scream.
Damon’s cock, thick and heavy, ripped into her ass, over and over. She was helplessly open to him, powerless and defenseless against his onslaught.
His hands circled her. His fingers found her nipples and rolled the points, pinching them slightly. It was too much.
As if he felt her orgasm breaking, he kept pounding furiously into her, her body shaking and swaying on the frame.
“Come, Serena,” he commanded hoarsely. “Give me your pleasure.”
He pinched sharply at her nipples, sending a fresh wave of agony through her chest. It matched the unbearable pressure in her ass as he buried himself as deep as he could go.
She needed, she needed just one more . . . push, pull, something to send her that extra inch. Her body couldn’t take much more stress. Every muscle was tensed, her body straining and pulled in a dozen different directions.
And the hot fire ripped over her back. The crop landed just inches above where Damon was buried in her ass. His hands still covered her breasts, toying mercilessly with her aching nipples, so she knew it couldn’t be him. Cole. It had to be Cole.
Like lava falling from the sky, the lashes fell. Damon pumped furiously against her buttocks. She closed her eyes, and the room went still around her. Silence, so sweet and blissful, settled like a soft rain. She simply let go, gave up control, quit fighting her needs and fears.
Her orgasm roared through her like an out-of-control freight train. It began in her groin, rolling, stampeding outward until her entire body shook uncontrollably. She screamed. Once. Twice. She lost count.
Pleasure, so much pleasure. It was too much and not enou
gh. Even sated, completely and utterly exhausted, she wanted more. Like an addict desperate for a fix. She arched her body upward, seeking the crop that was no longer there.
Gentle hands soothed her ravaged back. Sweet words floated down over her, coating her like warm caramel. Lips touched the center of her back. Strong arms surrounded her, holding her up as someone else freed her arms and legs.
Then she sagged, her strength gone, into Damon’s waiting arms. He gathered her close, wrapping his shirt around her quivering body. He swiped gently at her cheeks, and she realized they were wet with tears.
As he carried her from the room her arms curled around his neck, and she held him as tightly as he held her. More tears seeped from her eyelids, trickling down her cheeks.
She was barely aware of him getting into a car and directing Sam to take them home. All she heard were the murmured words of approval Damon whispered into her hair as he kissed and petted her.
“Go to sleep, Serena mine. I’ll take care of you.”
CHAPTER 23
S erena awoke to the dim light of first dawn. The room was bathed in pale lavender as the sun stretched and made its way over the horizon.
She lay there for a moment, processing her surroundings, content to savor these first few moments of comfortable bliss.
The first thing she registered was that her arms weren’t bound as usual. They were in fact folded over Damon’s arm, which encircled her waist. A glance down picked up on the fact that Damon’s leg was over hers, and her body was tucked securely in the shelter of his.
Unable to resist the freedom to move as she wished and to touch Damon, she rolled and wiggled until she faced him. He opened his eyes and regarded her with warm affection.
She snuggled into his chest and slid her arm around his waist. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat faintly against her temple, and she inhaled his scent, savoring and holding it before finally exhaling.
She kissed his chest and then scooted her body upward, tilting her head so that she was level with his lips. She pulled her arm from around his waist and reached up to touch his cheek, rough from overnight stubble.
He lay there watching her, making no move to stop her or to direct her in any way. She moved closer until she could feel his breath on her lips. Slowly, with great deliberation, she touched her mouth to his.
She sighed into his mouth, unable to call back the deep contentment over the simple kiss. She loved touching him, and so far had not gotten as many chances to do so as she’d have liked. This morning he seemed willing to let her do as she wished, and she wasn’t going to pass on the opportunity.
Her hands fluttered over the beard-roughed skin of his jaw, and she kissed a line from his lips to his neck, enjoying the rugged rasp against her lips. His pulse jumped wildly at his neck as her mouth closed over it and nipped lightly with her teeth.
“Are you seducing me, Serena mine?” he said in a near groan. “Has the slave turned master and temptress?”
She smiled and shoved, rotating his body until he lay flat on his back underneath her.
“I knew I shouldn’t have left you untied,” he murmured, though there was no true regret in his voice.
“Make love to me, Damon,” she whispered. The need was strong in her voice. “Just us. No bonds. No games. Just two lovers enjoying waking beside each other.”
He circled her body with his arms, yanking her to his chest. She fell, her mouth landing close to his. He claimed her lips, devouring them hungrily. There was no casual sipping, no easy give and take. He simply took, unleashing his passion in a kiss that left her shaken and bare.
There was no disguising his need, his urgent desire for her. Power rippled through her, arcing in the air, electric and sizzling. That he could want her so desperately, just her, not the slave, not the games or the elaborate schemes, took her breath away.
He rolled, taking her with him until she was tucked underneath him, her legs splayed out, him cradled to her body. His hands tangled in her hair, clutching at her slim neck as he guided her to his eager mouth.
“Does your back hurt you?” he gasped out.
She had to actually think, to try and remember why her back would hurt. Then last night came flooding back in a storm of passion and lust. Images of how he’d made her feel. The pain. The desire laced with the fury of her orgasm.
“No, it doesn’t hurt. Please don’t stop, Damon. You won’t hurt me. You’d never hurt me.”
“No, Serena mine. I’ll never hurt you,” he said softly as he reclaimed her mouth.
His lips slid from hers and down her jaw until he reached the sensitive lobe of her ear. He nibbled lightly then sucked it between his teeth. When he moved below to claim the tender skin of her neck, chill bumps danced and raced across her shoulders and tightened her nape.
She made full use of her hands, delving into his brown hair, enjoying the crispness of the strands as they feathered across her fingers. His gaze sought hers as he rose from her neck and then moved to her breasts.
There was something wild in his eyes. Where before he had seemed restrained, in control and patient, now there was an urgency, a deep wanting in those warm brown orbs that melted her heart.
“Come to me,” she whispered. “Be with me. Serena. The person, not the fantasy.”
He stopped, his body going still against her flesh. His gaze penetrated her, dark and forbidding. Propping himself on one arm next to her head, he touched his fingers to her lips as if to shush her. “You were never just a fantasy to me, Serena mine.”
Her chest swelled and expanded with emotion that caught her off guard. Was she too caught up in the mess of fantasy versus reality? Was she having a hard time separating the two in her mind? Why was it suddenly so important that he want her and not the obedient sex slave?
He dropped his head and kissed her, long and sweet. His tongue danced with hers, touching, licking, loving her mouth deeply and intimately.
There was a reverence to his every touch, almost hesitation, as though he feared she would shatter under his caresses. Carefully he ran his hand over the curve of her shoulder. The backs of his knuckles grazed the soft skin above her breast and then slid over her nipple.
“Are they sore?” he asked as he stopped and thumbed over the point.
“A little,” she admitted. “They’re more . . . sensitive. They still tingle.”
“Did you like the clamps?”
She nodded.
He leaned down and put his mouth over the taut peak. Warm and moist, his tongue flicked over the tip as his lips closed around the aureole. Her pussy tightened as he sucked in smooth rhythmic motions.
With his free hand, he reached between them, sliding his hand between her parted thighs. He found her wetness, and his fingers teased over her opening. His cock lay rigid against the inside of her thigh, and he opened her then positioned himself so that his length was cradled in her folds.
He smiled when her eyes widened as he rubbed up and down, the plump vein on the underside of his penis pressing against her clit. His balls crowded her pussy entrance, and she remembered how they’d felt sandwiched between them when he’d fucked her ass.
She reached down, and he reared farther up on his knees to give her access. Her fingers slid through her curls so that his cock nudged the tips each time he came seeking through her folds. Up and down he rubbed, sucking in his breath each time she stroked the blunt crown.
Her juices coated him and transferred to her hand. She withdrew and brought her fingers up to his mouth in a saucy dare. He didn’t hesitate. Taking her wrist, he held her fingers captive and proceeded to suck each and every one.
Not letting go of her hand, he leaned forward, forcing her arm to her side. He found her other one with his free hand and entwined their fingers before pressing them to the mattress on either side of her head.
He lay above her, his body pressed to hers, his cock between her thighs. He nibbled playfully at her chin, and when she laughed, he captured the sound as his mouth co
vered hers.
He rocked his hips, moving up and down until he found her entrance. He slid deep, seating himself far within her body. Then he stopped, holding himself tightly against her as he devoured her mouth.
She wriggled her hands, just enough to test how committed he was to holding her down. He released her immediately, and she touched him with greediness, her hands coaxing over his arms to his muscular shoulders and then to his back.
She loved the male roughness, the dips and curves of each muscle and the rigidity as she feathered over them. She loved feeling him flinch, as though her touch was intensely pleasurable to him.
He withdrew, sliding his engorged cock over aching, pulsing flesh. Then he rocked forward again, slow and easy. She sighed and wiggled her hips, impatient for the pleasure he would give her.
A smile curved his sensual lips, and his eyes gleamed as he stilled once more inside her.
“You’re a miserable tease,” she reproached.
“What’s your hurry?” he murmured as he kissed her quick and light and then proceeded to pepper a line down her jaw to her throat.
“Mmmm.” She arched into him, seeking those sinful lips, needing to feel them against her skin.
Thrust and withdraw. He set a lazy rhythm, his pace unhurried and relaxed. Each stroke sent her senses flaming, a slow crawl to completion. Like a rope swing in the heat of summer, starting slow, swaying in the wind, higher and higher, until it reached toward blue skies.
She closed her eyes, basking in his sunshine. His hands roamed freely over her body, cupping and molding, his touch light and seeking. Each caress told her more than words that she belonged to him. She was his and he knew her better than any other lover she’d ever been with.
When she felt his pace quicken, felt him swell within her, stretching her to her limits, she pulled his head down to hers. She fused their lips, pouring all that she felt into her kiss.
He lowered his body to hers, melding to her as he wrapped his arms around her. Their bodies entwined, he cupped his hips over her, thrusting repeatedly between her legs.