Permanent Marker (The Kinky Truth)

by Angel Payne

  With that resolve coursing his veins, he cinched the last knots around her ankles. He watched her arms and thighs flex, testing the bonds. He hadn’t left much wiggle room, another silent sign to her, and one he expected resistance for. But she stunned him yet again, her body going lax against the ropes, her head lolling. Was the tight captivity pleasant for her? Christ…was his little Rose even more a natural submissive than he presumed?

  The next moment brought his confirmation. Her eyes slid closed. Her breasts, while still sprouting the most erect nipples he’d ever seen, rose and fell on longer, deeper breaths. And her pussy…

  Fuck.

  He couldn’t hold back from dipping a finger into the moist curls at her center. For the first time since they’d boarded the boat, she gave a full-throated cry.

  “Such a wet little cunt already,” he murmured, pressing his chest to hers as he rolled a thumb along her clit. “Once again, racing on without permission.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.” Her voice dropped to a breathy gasp. “I couldn’t help it.”

  “Of course you couldn’t, honey.” He trailed his way from her ear to her mouth using only the tip of his tongue, making her shake and sob again. “But now that we’ve established that your body yearns to be with me, it’s time we find out why your head keeps telling you otherwise. Well, more importantly…the bastard who’s been fucking with it.”

  He punctuated that by withdrawing his fingers and palming her mound instead, clutching her with fierce possession.

  “I’d ask if you’re ready, pet, but it doesn’t matter. Here we go, whether you like it or not.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Damn. Damn.

  Rose battled to hang on to the sanity of the word, to the coherent thought it took to form it, even silently. What the hell had happened to her? Three minutes ago, she’d listened to the man talk with the arrogance of a Dom dentist, planning to hit her with some magical kink Novocain and extract what he needed out of her head. She’d almost laughed at him. She’d definitely scoffed. Not where he could see her do it of course, but it wasn’t like she didn’t know what he could do to her. Mark had taken her to sexual and spiritual heaven more times in the last twenty-four hours than she ever dreamed possible. She knew what he could do with restraints, with words, and with those incredible, knowing hands of his. But she could handle all of that now. Maybe he really didn’t know how adept she could be at turning off parts of herself at will—even when the On button was him.

  But that was just the problem.

  He…wasn’t himself anymore.

  Apparently, the man had a different person stashed in that box he’d gone sifting through. This Mark had the same carved golden torso, wide warrior’s stance, and precise confidence of the lover she thought she knew—but one look at his face was a new illumination. His eyes burned with a strange new fire. His jaw was so taut it redefined the shape of his face. He’d transformed beyond her teacher, her lover, her Dominant. She seriously pondered the possibility that some merciless pirate had found its way up from the hold and taken possession of him.

  She also wondered why the hell that turned her pussy into a floodgate.

  And her mind into this wasteland.

  She searched the blackness behind her eyelids, attempting to center herself again. Maybe if she just didn’t look at him…

  “Open your eyes, pet.” The directive was pure granite, but it was backed by a velvety caress to her face. It wasn’t his hand, but something just as persuasive. “No drifting. Eyes right here, on your Master.”

  Master. She loved the sound of that, and yeah, he probably knew it. Attempting a steady breath, she complied. So much for the “steady” part of that. Her heartbeat went AWOL as she beheld him now, more pirate-like than ever now that twilight had fallen, stroking the leather falls of a sizable flogger. Okay, so it seemed sizable. She wasn’t in a position to compare as her few trips to Fallon’s favorite kink club had been more about watching what effects floggers had on a sub, rather than the instruments themselves. Those memories, joined with the preview Mark had given her of this flogger, had her brain and her body duking it out for possession of her composure.

  “Shit!” It spilled without thought. Mark—or whoever he was now—barely reacted beyond a satisfied glow in his eyes. Was he enjoying this? These things inflicted pain! She remembered that much, very clearly. And she wasn’t—

  “Shit!”

  This time, the word popped out more from startlement. It coincided with the first stroke he inflicted, barely moving his wrist to lay the falls across her thighs. Her skin immediately warmed, then tingled. She took a deep breath, relaxing for a second. All right, that wasn’t so bad. A bit pleasant, even. But she also recognized that it was a beginner’s tap.

  “No more words.” He emphasized that with a second thwack, this one backed by more muscle. Oh, this one stung, but Rose clenched back her retort, bolting a glare into him instead as he finished, “You’ll get to use words when I direct them from you. Understood?”

  Just as she debated how to best narrow her eyes more, he dipped his last word into a seductive murmur, brushing her exposed labia with the leather strands. She squeezed her eyes shut, and the moan in her throat turned into a choke. “Y-yes, Sir.”

  Smack.

  He replaced the falls with his palm and not nearly with as much tenderness. Her eyes flew open. Had he just spanked her pussy? And, oh God, was her vagina drenching it with arousal in reaction?

  “Very sweet and respectful, honey—but not the words I’m wanting to hear.”

  He stepped closer, that wicked light in his eyes seeming to find something in hers, making his lips twist before he brought his palm down on her sex again. “We’ll get to the words, don’t you worry. Right now, you’ve agreed to accept a punishment for turning tail on your Master this morning. You’re going to feel a little of what it was like in my heart, to realize you didn’t trust me enough to stay and face me.”

  “No!” It burst out before she could stop it, fueled by watching him move back and swing the flogger in more ferocious swoops. “It’s not you! I’ve trusted you with everything!”

  He laughed, but it was more a snarl. “More words. More bullshit I don’t want to hear. Keep it up, Rose, and your welts will be blue as this ocean by the time we’re done.”

  “But you need to understand. You need to—”

  “Silence!”

  His bellow came with a frightening thwack of the flogger to the deck near her feet. In the aftermath, she looked on as Mark heaved on his breaths, gritting his teeth, watching her now with feral appraisal. Rose shook violently, but her terror suddenly had nothing to do with what he was going to do with her. Shit. Shit! All his actions were a terrible revelation, showing her what she’d done to him, how deep the cut she’d truly inflicted by walking out that door this morning. She’d had no idea. She’d thought he’d call her a few choice things, have the bed changed, and then subject her to an emotional blackout for the rest of the week. She’d never thought he’d feel this…pain. Over her.

  She’d never thought anyone would feel pain over her. Ever.

  Her brain might as well have dropped a building on her heart. She raised her gaze, hoping Mark would look up even once and see that she knew now, that she knew, and she was so sorry for what she’d done to him. But through the first dozen blows, his focus seemed only on the body he disciplined. He said nothing else. The air was filled with his raging grunts, the ominous whirs of the falls, the hard thwacks on her skin, and her deep, resigned silence. Even as the blows got harder, Rose swallowed and held back her screams. The flogger’s bites were whispers of pain compared to the sorrow in her soul.

  I’m sorry. Oh, Sir…so sorry.

  He finally looked at her face. He did it only for a moment, after turning to shake his hair free of sweat. A flash of disbelief darkened his eyes before he whooshed the flogger high again.

  Despite her resolve, that strike made her cry out. He’d been targeting th
e flesh of her thighs and arms and shocked her by throwing the blow across her breasts. The flesh there was already puckered and sensitive because of the wind; his strike filled them with sudden stings.

  But then she got the real stunner. To compensate for the pain, she tried to twist her hips. The ropes didn’t let her move much, but it was enough that her pussy shifted, those wet lips kissing each other in more than a few places.

  A flare of arousal seared up her body. Her outcry got quickly drowned by her hiss.

  When she looked back to Mark, he was again a man transformed.

  Raw power filled every angle of his face. His lips, slightly parted, twisted with ferocious victory. Cords stood out in his neck; veins were prominent in his chest and biceps.

  For a long moment, she forgot about being sorry, stubborn, or anything except totally turned on.

  He wielded the flogger on her again. Once more he aimed across her thighs. But this time he kept his stare on hers as he did. And this time his arm bunched hard with the effort.

  This time, it really hurt.

  Rose shrieked from the blow—but forgot the pain in the very same moment, watching what her shudders and writhing did to him. He dragged in a harsh breath. The corners of his eyes twitched. His free hand shifted to his crotch, nursing the growing ridge there.

  She barely had time to catch her breath before he laid the falls again across her breasts. Again harder than before. Again forcing her to twist her hips. Again sending the pulses through her pussy, her body, clear into her scalp. Her lips parted on another hiss. His jaw clenched.

  That set up a pattern of sweet, hot torture. His flogger strike. Her scream. His caught breath. Her rolling hips. Their growing, connected need. Their spiraling, mutual desire. Sting and succor. Pain and pleasure. A place far beyond where they’d been together last night. A man completely different than the Dominant who’d taken her in the storm by the pool, who’d then seduced her in his bed. This merciless pirate wasn’t going to do any of that. His whole face told her that right now. When his body joined with hers, it was going to be brutal, primal. And God help her, she couldn’t wait.

  And damn it, she knew he recognized that too.

  As if seeing the thought take over her mind, Mark hurled the flogger to the deck, then regained the space between them. Instead of pressing his body against her like he had before, he grabbed the shrouds beneath her, pulling her against his body. The motion made her aware that he had her fully surrounded, completely bound. Totally his to be used. She whimpered, only hoping his need was worse than hers and he’d be inside her soon, no more questions asked. They’d have this one last beautiful bonding here on the sea, where they were safe from the world. Maybe, for just a little while longer, her fantasy would be safe from Shane’s reality.

  “All right, honey. Now we’re going to talk.”

  She groaned. So much for wishes coming true. “What? Why?” She tried to plead it into his lips, to take advantage of the heavy lust that clearly plagued him as much as her. But he shook his head, fanning his heated breath across her face.

  “Not an approved response.” He pulled again on the ropes. The action brought her spread mound against the rough bulge of his crotch. “Give me what I need, and you’ll get what you need.”

  Her right wrist flinched, reacting to the instinct to slap him. She huffed, knowing she’d have a rope burn now from the effort.

  “No need to get testy.” He made the shrouds sway a little, so every inch of her pussy got a rolling tease from his erection. “The question is easy, pet. Just tell me, damn it. What did your brother call you about?”

  “Oh shiiiit!” She sucked in ragged air, her whole pelvis shaking. “Oh Sir…that feels so…”

  “Not approved either.” He eased back on the ropes. She could feel her labia convulsing, her clit trembling. Every nerve between her thighs screamed for release. She knew Mark wasn’t doing much better, despite the iron control in his voice. “You know what is approved for discussion. Shane. You. This morning.” He rolled his hips, ruthlessly taunting her with a crotch-to-crotch flyby. “Was it about me?”

  Rose reacted instinctively, jerking her gaze from him. Mark palmed her cheek, forcing her to look back. “Nail on the fucking head, huh?”

  “H-how do you even know his name?”

  “What did he want to know about me?”

  “Mark.” Tears hovered in her entreaty. “Sir. Please—”

  “He told you to sleep with me, didn’t he?”

  A weepy laugh spilled out. “God! And you think I ran because of that? You think I left you just to piss him off?” She struggled to look away again, but his grip didn’t relent. “Damn it, stop! It’s more complicated than that!”

  “Okay. He told you not to sleep with me.”

  “All Shane did was talk some sense into me, all right? Does that make you feel better now? Are you satisfied?”

  His hold relaxed, but his voice hardened. “That’s it. I’m completely right. He drilled right in and got to you. That bastard punched all his old shit right back into your head, crap he’s been feeding you for years, even before Owen. He probably told you about being no good for me, to stay away and not corrupt the good senator with your eccentric reputation and your depraved sexual tendencies. No, wait. He didn’t stop there, did he? He likely found a great way to call you five kinds of alley cat too, right? Forget the ‘black sheep of the family’ shit. That’s much too easy for an asshole like him.”

  “Stop! Please, just stop!” She drew a hard breath, getting ready to say it. Worth. The irony of all ironies. A safe word that embodied the furthest thing she felt right now.

  “No.” It was a vicious syllable, spoken in the moment he captured hers in a fierce, fervent kiss. “No, goddamn it, we’re not stopping. Shane’s wrong, Rose. He couldn’t be more wrong.” With her face still pinned by his mouth, he slid his arms along hers, locking their hands, fitting his body atop hers with a thrust of undeniable intent. “To start with, I’d challenge him to name exactly who’s been corrupting who here…”

  “Ohhhh, shit!” She moaned it as he dropped his head down to her breast. “Oh!” she cried again, as he bit one of her nipples like it was an exotic, tender piece of fruit. He closed a hand over her other breast, teasing that engorged nub with his thumb.

  “Or,” he continued, growling seductively as he withdrew something from one of his pockets, “whether there’s been damn near enough corruption going on.”

  Rose tried to see what new toy had turned his voice back into that pirate’s tone and had his cock swelling anew against her mound, but he took the sneak attack approach. Before she determined what the cold, steel pressure was on the underside of her breasts, he had the clamps fastened to her nipples.

  “Ohhhh, Sir!”

  Mark devoured the rest of her scream with his mouth, looming over her, grasping her hair, groaning into her in return. When he released her, there was a smile—a damn smile!—on his lips. “My good pet. How fun it is to corrupt you.” He stroked the outside of her breasts. “You’re so goddamn gorgeous like this.”

  She yearned to scream again. To order him to pull them off. The pain was hideous at first, two crunches of consuming agony, but then she listened to his voice. His sensual praise her made it easy to breathe through the first minute. The way he stroked her flesh, moving his hands down her body by heated inches, made the second and third minutes easier. When he got his hands around her ass, kneading her cheeks so her sex slid perfectly against his crotch, she nearly forgot about the clamps. Every sensation in her body was eclipsed by the rising, burning need in her soaked, throbbing pussy.

  “Sir.” She made it a plea, her voice high and breathy. “Sir, please! I need…”

  “Yes, honey.” He jerked at his pants now, the rip of his zipper like a glorious angels’ chorus on the sea wind. “I know what you need.” His erection burst free, the moist head demanding a path through her curls, seeking her intimate sheath. He took out a condom packet from his
pocket, ripped it open with his teeth, and rolled it on with a low groan.

  As he angled his hips and lined himself up with her vagina, he brushed the hair from her face and hovered his mouth over hers. “I’m going to fuck you hard, Rose—and I hope your goddamn brother hears you screaming all the way back in Chicago.”

  She smiled and gave a teary nod to that. The next instant, she wondered if he really did intend her shriek to be heard in Chicago. As he drove his cock into her core, he gave the attaching chain to her clamps a sharp tug. Adrenaline charged her system, turning her senses into a fireworks show, and she ignited, breaking open with need. It was the most agonizing and amazing physical experience she’d ever had. Her head slammed back. She wrenched her eyes shut. Her senses spun and burned as she struggled to process it all at once.

  “That’s it.” Mark’s voice came filled with equal parts desire and demand. “Accept it. Take it. The pain is making it better for you. You knew that when I was marking you with the flogger, didn’t you? You felt it in the deepest parts of your cunt, how you opened and accepted more of the pleasure after you took the pain. This part is even better. Breathe, baby. Open up to it. Open up to me and all the good things this can be for you.”

  She nodded again, though the motion was shaky. He began moving inside her now, sliding his hard, huge length to the very edge of her pussy lips, then thrusting back in with deliberate rhythm. “Do you feel this, honey? Do you feel the head of my cock, about to kiss your sweet spot inside…here?”

  She gasped as he gave an extra little push, the tip of his cock indeed hitting a spot in her tunnel that made her start to quake from the inside out. “Oh, God!” she cried out. “Yes!”

  “And does your ass feel my hot balls as I fuck you deeper…like this?”

  “Yes.” She panted and sighed. “Yes, yes, yesssss.”

  “And does your sweet little asshole feel my finger playing with it, exploring it, turning you on more…like this?”