by Opal Carew
“Oh no, no, no…” She moaned as her sphincter yielded and the toy slid inside.
If the sensations had been mortifying and perilous before, they were a thousand times worse now, dreadful messages streaking along her nerves, telling her brain the most awful things. But even as they did, Ben intensified the gentle, teasing strokes against her center, and almost before she knew it the messages changed, melted, and flowered, and she cried out loudly in a light and sudden orgasm.
Sarah writhed against the coverlet, squishing Ben’s caressing hand beneath her. She couldn’t believe that she was climaxing, and most of all it was mainly because her bottom was stuffed and plugged.
“Oh please… oh please…” She crooned, not really having any idea what she was asking for.
Did she want him to remove the plug?
No…
Did she want him to stroke her even more?
Yes, certainly… sort of.
Did she want something else?
Her mind skittered away from the options, even while it presented them. And one, she could barely conceive how she was going to endure it or why she wanted it.
“You must pay for that, my dearest,” whispered Ben, leaning over her back, and Sarah sobbed, knowing he comprehended her utterly. “Do you understand?”
She made a sound, some kind of affirmation, although she wasn’t sure it was anything that had ever been part of the English language.
“You are magnificent,” he answered, his voice strangely rough, then he stepped away and there was silence for a moment.
What are you doing? What are you doing?
He was looking for something, casting around. Then, with a small sound of satisfaction, he found it, obviously. “Be brave. Be strong.”
She wasn’t sure she could be either, but she could endure, for his pleasure, and in a dark and twisted way, her own.
Then he smacked her bottom again, and she shrieked, both in pain and surprise.
Her mind went blank, white, and numbed. Then after a gap of a few seconds, it started working, processing the fiery pain in her right buttock and trying to work out what had created it.
She got no further than that before he struck her other bottom cheek. And she shrieked again, this time attempting to muffle the weak and pathetic sounds in the bed covers.
“It’s all right to cry out, my darling,” he said, placing his hand flat on one of the hot places for a moment and stirring the fire there.
Sarah made an incoherent sound and ground her crotch against the mattress, seeking ease for her astonishing and impossible arousal. Her bottom was flaming and yet her pussy ached for contact.
He smacked her more and more, settling into a slow, lazy rhythm. The impact of the blows was unimaginable, and yet somehow bizarrely soothing despite the growing craving in her sex.
And in a peculiar moment of clarity, it dawned on her what the wicked device was.
He was spanking her with his leather-soled bedroom slipper. One of the ones she’d seen lined up neatly by the bed.
“Oh please… oh please…” She began to plead again, against all reason begging for more of his disciplinary attentions as much as she was begging for ease of the burning itch of her desire.
As she moaned, he finally set aside his slipper.
“What do you want, Sarah?” he asked again, his breath gratifyingly coming in gasps. He was affected by her, as moved and roused and stirred as she was, in his own way. Despite her pain she smiled, anticipating her victory and his loss of control.
“I want you in me!” she growled at him, writhing again, sinuous against the bedspread, taunting him with her rosy, fiery bottom.
“Where?” he demanded hoarsely, then pressed his fingertips to the base of the fat plug in her bottom. “Here?”
“Yes! Oh God!” She gasped as he rocked the wicked thing. “Anywhere! Wherever you want! Just do it!”
“Very well… very well…” He panted, unhanding her for a moment.
She could hear rustlings, small preparations, his breathing. Then, shockingly, he pulled out the plug. Her insides rioted a little, but he soothed her with more gentle fondling. Within seconds she was moaning for a different reason, almost coming.
When she was starting to rise again, he slathered her backside once more with the silky lubricant. Lots of it. Then, after a moment’s more rustling and the slick sounds of a condom being rolled on, he was at her rear entrance, pushing, pushing, as he’d done originally with the inert rubber intruder.
This time it was easier. This time the yielding was sweeter than sweet.
After a moment’s effort, he was lodged inside her, draped over her back, murmuring love into her ear.
His thrusts were measured and shallow, yet the pleasure was deep, achingly deep.
Within seconds she was moaning again, whining like an animal, lost in a perverse and delicious ecstasy like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Soaring higher, she shrieked and writhed when he touched her core.
Her orgasm triggered him. Everything was crazy. Ben was as mad and wild and lost to the world as she was.
The only sane thing was the words he groaned and gasped. “I love you… I love you… My darling, I love you.”
She answered him the same, because it was true.
Chapter Four
A long while later, they lay in each other’s arms, in the bed now.
Slippers, sex toys, lubricants, handcuffs, and blindfolds were all abandoned now. Not forgotten, but set aside in favor of the simplicity of freshly bathed bodies, cuddled close and fond and happy in the low, gilded lamplight.
Is this heaven? It certainly feels as if it might be.
Sarah breathed in, loving the fresh yet spicy smell of Ben’s cologne and the feel of his warm, clean skin where he was lying against her back, spooned along the length of her. They were both naked, yet the contact was peculiarly innocent. His penis was soft where it pressed against the heat that lingered in her bottom.
She no longer hurt because, she realized, he was the most skilled of disciplinarians. There was just a warm glow left to remind her of the breathtaking tumult of their strange communion. She almost wished it was hotter. That it would last longer. That it was permanent.
If she had some sign of what had passed between them that would always be with her, it would be a talisman to cling to whenever they parted.
The idea of that made her gasp with a pain far more agonizing than anything that could be inflicted by hand or by leather.
“What’s wrong, my darling?” Ben whispered in her ear, his arm tightening a little around her middle. Possessively? “Did I hurt you too much? I’m sorry if I did… I become lost in the moment… and with you, more lost than ever before. But I didn’t mean to truly harm you.”
“It’s all right, Ben.” She closed her hand over his, remembering its strength and implacability, and the sweet kindness and generous pleasure it bestowed too. “I feel wonderful, actually… thanks to you.”
They lay in silence, but she could almost taste his thoughts and measure the sudden tension that had sprung up in him. What was wrong?
She opened her mouth to ask him, to ask what she could do to resolve whatever was bothering him. But before she could utter a word, he spoke again.
“I love you.”
Where there had been relaxation, now there was whirling agitation. Almost euphoria. She’d known he cared for her and desired her and, even apart from the sex, enjoyed her company. Men often made wild, exaggerated claims about love when they were coming that proved to be nonsense in quieter, cooler times, so she’d not dared to make too much of his orgasmic cries. But Ben was so different to the men she’d cared for before, in every possible way. Could it be that he’d spoken the truth, even while coming? Despite their happiness together, she’d never been quite sure that she was special enough for him. At least she hadn’t thought so until this weekend… Now she knew she was. That she was a match for him. Completely.
The thoughts rac
ed and circled. Now she really couldn’t speak for excitement.
“I love you, Sarah,” he repeated, “and I want to be with you. All the time… Forever.”
She could feel him shaking against her. Or was that her shaking against him? It was probably a bit of both. She still couldn’t speak, but she laced her fingers with his and squeezed tight in a clearer, simpler message.
“But… I know my sexual tastes are particular and I don’t want to always impose them on you. Away from here, away from The Retreat, you might feel differently about all this…” This time it was his fingers that tightened. “But I can accept that, and I don’t expect you to indulge me. I… I can suppress it.” He kissed the back of her neck, and when he went on there was a wry note in his voice. “If you can accept that sometimes I might need to read the occasional magazine… and… um… deal with myself, I think we’ll be okay.” He nuzzled her, his mouth settling on the curve of her shoulder now, his beard a caress against her skin. “Making love to you is so mind-blowing in itself that I couldn’t, and shouldn’t, ask for more.”
Now, against her bottom, she felt him harden, and he moved slightly against her to reinforce her perception.
“If you can accept me for a wicked old pervert, Sarah, I’d love to be your husband… if you’ll have me?”
His voice was so soft, so kind, so honest. Even if there had been no sex, and no kink, she could not have imagined a man she felt more comfortable with now. More complete, and more herself.
But still the enormity of his proposal sealed the words of joy within her.
She began to shake more, with sobs, her body wrenched as hard by simple happiness as it had been by the most intense of all the orgasms he’d given her.
“My love… my love… what is it? Please don’t be upset. I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to rush you.” Gently, he slid back, pushed on her shoulder and laid her down beside him. In the soft light, his sublime brown eyes were glistening with the same moisture that was gathering in hers.
Sarah reached up, drew his face down to hers, and then boldly took his mouth in a kiss that was strong, yet as tender as she could make it. Befuddled by soaring joy, she told him everything with her lips that she was currently finding impossible to put into words, and when they finally drew apart, she could see from his smile and the light in his gleaming eyes that he’d understood everything.
“Oh, Sarah, my love… you’ll have me then?” His white teeth glinted in the shadows as his smile widened. “You’ll marry me? Is it ‘yes’?”
Sarah reached up and touched his cheek, loving him and loving everything about him. His fine eyes and the intellect behind them, his handsome face and his thick brown hair, his soft, neat beard that felt so nice to her fingers. She loved his body too, and his heart, and his imagination.
And at last she found the words.
“Yes… it’s yes… but on one provision.”
“Name it!” His hand slid to her flank and around the side of her buttock, holding her to him, but lightly as if he were still cautious of stirring up the heat of her spanking. She could see in his intense expression that he was longing to make love to her again, even if he hadn’t been pressing his hard sex against her thigh.
“That you spank me whenever you think I need it.” She grinned at him as his eyes lit up even more, and his beautiful mouth curved in the dark frame of his elegant whiskers. “Or whenever I think I need it.”
“And how often do you think that might be?” His voice was rich with amusement as he pulled her tighter now, his fingertips pressing the cheek of her bottom as if she’d given him permission—and rights. Which she had.
Sarah kept him waiting a moment, then said, “Oh, about once a day, I think… maybe more often.” Her voice was airy, but she’d never been more serious in her life.
Ben kissed her hard, his lips, his tongue, his entire body dominant. “And how about now?” he enquired, all trace of their former mutual sleepiness vanished.
“Oh yes, definitely… but in a little while.” She squirmed against him, teasing his erection with her thighs, her belly. “But would it be possible to wait until you’ve made love to me first?” Daringly, she stroked his penis, adoring its heat and silky size.
“Of course, my darling,” he purred, moving slowly in her caress, “But I must warn you… after I’ve spanked you, I’ll want to have you again, you realize. I won’t be able to help myself.”
“That’s what I’m banking on, my love… That’s what I’m banking on.”
And as he moved over her, she laughed softly and added the words she’d almost forgotten to say, although meant, so sincerely meant, for quite some time.
“I love you.”
###
Thank You!
Many thanks for reading His Secret. I do hope you enjoyed Sarah and Ben and the way he lovingly initiated her into the dark and intense pleasures of BDSM at The Retreat. It’s a very special and luxurious hotel, and I hope to write about quite a few other couples who check in to enjoy its delights. Look out for Their Secret first. It’s Sarah’s friend Maggie’s story and the second installment of this Secret Pleasures series.
If you enjoy BDSM romance in general, you might also like to look out for my other titles, An Appointment with Her Master, Another Appointment, Forbidden Treasures, and In Sebastian’s Hands. Or for best value, try my BDSM themed boxed set Delicious Pain.
If you’d like to be notified when any new books and stories of mine are up for release, you can join my mailing list at:
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Reviews are a wonderful way to help other readers find books, so please do consider reviewing His Secret at Amazon, Goodreads, or your favorite site of choice. I appreciate all reviews I receive.
About Portia
Portia Da Costa is a Sunday Times best-selling British author of romance, erotic romance, and erotica, whose short stories and novels have been published in the UK and elsewhere since 1991. She loves creating stories about sexy, likeable people in steamy, scandalous situations and has written for various publishers over the years, including Black Lace, HQN, Spice Briefs, Samhain Publishing, Carina Press, and a good many others. Though her best-known titles are mainly contemporary erotic romance, she also enjoys writing super-hot Victorian historical romance and erotic paranormals. She’s even turned her hand to a bit of erotic sci-fi and horror on occasion.
Recently, her Black Lace contemporary erotic romance In Too Deep reached Number #5 in the Sunday Times paperback fiction chart, with only books by E L James and Sylvia Day outselling her!
When Portia isn’t writing, she’s usually to be found loafing around watching the television or reading. She lives in the heart of West Yorkshire in the UK with her long-suffering husband and their beloved cats: brother and sister Mork and Mindy, cranky but lovable Felix, and Prince, a rescue cat from France.
Find out more about her at the following places…
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Published by Portia Da Costa
An Appointment with Her Master—His by Choice #1
Another Appointment—His by Choice #2
Daring Interludes
Delicious Pain Boxed Set
Delicious Pleasure Boxed Set
Fire and Ice
Forbidden Treasures
Glint
His Secret—Secret Pleasures #1
In Sebastian’s Hands
Lessons and Lovers
Naughty Thoughts
Object of Desire
Power of Three—In Love with Two Men #1
Tempted by Two—In Love with Two Men #2
The Efficiency Expert
Their Secret—Secret Pleasures #2
Wesley and the Love Zombies
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More information here
Selected Black Lace Erotic Romance
The Accidental Trilogy
The Accidental Call Girl
The Accidental Mistress
The Accidental Bride
Selected Contemporaries
The Red Collection
The Stranger
In Too Deep
The Devil Inside
Entertaining Mr Stone
Suite Seventeen
The Gift
Seduced by a Billionaire—coming in 2015
More information here
Selected Harlequin Erotic Romance
The Ladies’ Sewing Circle [Victorian setting]
In The Flesh
Diamonds in the Rough
A Gentlewoman’s Quartet - four novella Spice Briefs anthology
Three Colors Sexy [Spice Briefs]
Discipline of the Blue Book
Ritual of the Red Chair
Ecstasy in the White Room
Risqué Reunions [Spice Briefs]
Twice the Pleasure
Second Time Around
No Longer Forbidden
More information here
Their Secret—teaser excerpt
Forbidden Pleasures #2 - Maggie’s Story
When Maggie Jenkins agrees to meet her online lover, the enigmatic “Mr. Jones”, at The Retreat, a luxury hotel with a risqué reputation, she knows she’s taking a wild and daring chance.
Mr. Jones is an irresistible temptation, an exciting alpha male who’s been tutoring Maggie in the mysteries of power exchange and BDSM sensuality. She’s half in love with her unknown master already, so despite the foolhardiness of submitting to a man she’s never met, Maggie reaches out to grasp pleasure, and her future, with both hands.