With Visions of Red: Broken Bonds, Boxed Set Books 1 - 3

by Trisha Wolfe

  Not yet. Removing my hand, I return to threading her harness. This construct is testing my patience just as much, my need for her causing my hands to shake as I tie off the final knot. When it’s complete, I palm her waist and turn her to face the wall.

  “Tell me what you want. I can pick, or you can—”

  “The cane,” she says, shocking me silent.

  “Goddess…”

  “Take his place,” she says. “Take away his power over me. He used the cane to feed off of my suffering—there was no love or trust. Only pain. In your hands, the pain will be delivered with both. I don’t want to fear what he’s created inside me anymore…and the only way to do that is to break me of his memory.”

  I turn toward her, take her in my arms and kiss her desperately. I never could’ve brought her to this point on my own—she understands herself, her own needs, so deeply she humbles me. “I love you,” I say against her lips.

  “I know. Now claim me as yours.”

  And as I guide her ankles upward, securing the rope to the ring, contorting her body in a beautiful, graceful pose, I help coax her into her subspace. She spins as I tighten the harness, then I position her knees beneath her, close to her abdomen, as I maneuver her to face the floor.

  “Tighter,” she says, and I comply.

  She needs the safety of the ropes cradling her in order to find her subspace, in order to take the cane. My fingers twist each band along her back, tightening the harness until she releases a moan of pleasure.

  I’m so amazed at her trust in me, after what I’ve just confided in her, that my selection of the cane weighs heavily on me. She’s been dealt blows before…but I want this experience to override that—to demolish that painful memory entirely.

  I choose the red cane she was eyeing when I first brought her here. I saw the fear in her eyes in that moment, and I never want to see it again.

  Laying my hand between her shoulder blades, I delicately knead the muscles around her spine, further relaxing her into her bottom space. “Sadie, breathe.” Her body quakes just from my touch, the anticipation for what’s to come drawing her out of her comfort zone, and her breathing is short and choppy. “I want you to take deep, long breaths. We’re going to go slow, and your breathing will be my guide.”

  “Okay.” She regulates her breathing, doing exactly as I instruct.

  I keep my hand resting on her back, continuing to massage and comfort, as I lay the middle of the cane along the bottommost part of her back. Gliding the cane across her skin, I allow her to get used to the feel, the thickness and grain of the wood. Then I drum it once, softly, against her.

  Her quick intake of air isn’t from pain; it’s in her mind. The fear of the blow. I resume drumming the middle of the cane along the soft flesh of her back in rhythmic percussion, and her breathing evens out. This massage technique will calm her and lead her into the strokes with what I hope is little, jarring impact.

  As she grows accustomed to the feel of the cane, I move over her back, stopping beneath her harness, and work her muscles into a relaxed state. Then, with careful finesse, I ease to her bottom and drum her tender skin.

  “Green,” she says, and I can’t help but smile, in complete awe of her.

  Placing my hand against her lower back, I increase the impact of the short drums, heightening the intensity. Her muscles tense a bit, and I caress her lovingly. Roaming my hand lower, I delicately palm her ass and then massage, priming her to take her first blow.

  “The first stroke will be harder than what I’ve given you so far,” I say, making sure to maintain the honest trust between us, letting her know what to expect while also giving her my voice to latch on to.

  I slide the cane along her bottom until the tip presses against her ass, then I pull it back, just slightly, and deliver a quick tap. The slap is louder than the amount of pain produced, and she flinches at the noise, but soon eases back into her comfort zone.

  We continue this dance, creating an orchestra of taps and percussions, slowly increasing the level of sting. I listen to her breathing, allowing her body to direct my taps. And when she arches her back, releasing a sensual moan that has me clutching the cane, I forcibly restrain my own desire to take her further.

  I place my hand against her stomach, testing her tension level, and feel the tremble of her abdominal muscles. Slipping my hand to her mound, I apply slight pressure, encouraging her to push against my fingers to get some pleasurable release to endure the pain.

  Then I run my palm over her ass, feeling the thin, raised welts. I push lower, roaming between her thighs, and close my eyes, my jaw clenched, as I take in her wetness. She soaks my fingers. It’s becoming a measure of discipline for me, too—restraining myself from taking her too early.

  But she’s there now—she’s ready to accept the strokes she’s seeking—and thank God, because I have little endurance left.

  “The next blow will be harder than the last,” I say.

  “Green,” she responds, sending a ripple of desire through me.

  I initiate the sequence with mid-level, double taps, changing up the pace and intensity, readying her to take the harder blows. When she bucks against the rope, moving her ass to guide me where she wants the pole, I rear back farther and swat the middle of the cane against her ass. It lands with an audible smack flush against her bottom.

  She cries out, and the ropes creak with her spasm.

  “Another,” she demands.

  My hand tightens around the handle and I deliver a firmer blow to the same spot. Her moan travels right through me, provoking a groan from deep in my throat. I grit my teeth to maintain composure. I’m coming undone right along with her…and I can’t lose control.

  “Last stroke,” I say, because truly, I’m going to throw the cane down and fuck her pussy hard and raw if she keeps demanding more.

  I make this last one count. Breaking her of the horrific event that claimed her early on is the purpose; not feeding my need. Though the two are happening simultaneously, and can’t be denied. The more trust she gives me, the more I undeniably become hers, and that tethered rope twining us is taut and binding, crushing me with surreal pleasure.

  Drawing the cane back, I flick my wrist, sending a loud whack across her ass. She writhes and releases a cry that pangs the hollow of my chest. That’s enough. Enough.

  I toss the cane, drop to my knees, and kiss the welts, trying to assuage the pain. My palms slide over her thighs and I feel the wetness dripping from her center. I close my eyes, completely undone.

  Standing, I flip her around into a suspended sitting position, then take her face between my hands. Her eyes are closed, her mouth parted, as she gulps deep breaths. I brush her matted hair away from her face, wipe the sweat from her brow.

  “Look at me, Sadie.” My voice is shaky with need and fear, but when she opens her eyes, lust and faith mingle there and hold me beyond captive to her.

  My lips crush hers in a bruising kiss that steals my breath as I inhale hers, trading oxygen like life force. I push her bound legs apart, opening her up to me, and she kisses me back with desperate want.

  “Fuck me. Now.” Her whispered plea is breathed across my lips, sending a fiery current streaking through my blood. I clutch the rope above her hands with one of mine, moving her closer to me as I smooth my other hand over her back to caress the punished skin.

  Heat pours through my jeans as her pussy lines up perfectly with me. My cock straining against the rough material, I grind against her clit, giving her the friction she needs to drive her desire higher.

  Her moans surround me. Unguarded, sexy, demanding.

  I reach into my pocket and bring out my knife before I unsnap my jeans and let them drop to the floor. I kick out of them as I hold her to me, devouring her breathy moans, keeping her focus on me and away from the sharp object. I have no patience left, and I get out, “Please, give me permission to use the knife to free you, goddess.”

  I feel her shiver in my arms, b
ut she nods against me. “I need you inside me…I’m aching so badly.”

  Fuck, but I’m aching too, goddess. My mouth is on hers again in a second. I settle my painfully hard cock against her heated entrance, her wetness saturating me, as I slide the top of my shaft between her lips. Pure. Fucking. Torture.

  A carnal growl rips from my mouth as I reach up and sever the main suspension rope. She falls free, and I brace my hand against her back, guiding her down as her body glides along mine until I’m filling her.

  The knife is dropped, the room fades away, and all that exists is her—her tight, warm flesh surrounding me, consuming me. My breath halts, and I can only stare into her eyes as she links her bound arms around my neck and expertly rolls her hips to take all of me.

  That’s when I lose all sense and control. I’m her devoted disciple, bent on pleasing her and making her come so hard that I drive her nightmares away forever.

  16

  Dark

  Sadie

  I use my tied wrists as leverage against Colton’s neck, pulling myself up and then lowering down again, working his perfect, erect cock deeper, taking him inside me again and again, my walls clenching around him insatiably.

  His heavy breaths sear my skin as his arms pin me to him. Hands clamped to my shoulders, he brings me down harder each time. I arch my back, giving him the perfect angle to drive into me deeper. My sensitized skin flames with every thrust. The pain of the caning stripped me raw, and now I can only see and feel Colton.

  I feel as if I’m still in my subspace, never having left the embrace of the ropes. His arms are those ropes now; my comfort, my protection. My strength. His body my shield, deflecting my past and opening me to our future.

  “I’m going to fuck you, goddess,” he says between thrusts, his voice guttural and rubbing against me like friction. “I want you to tell me yes…that I fuck you hard…because I can’t hold back.”

  His desire for me only intensifies my need for him, and I cling to his shoulders, sinking my nails into his straining muscles. “I want you to fuck me. Fuck me, Colton. Fuck me hard and rough.”

  Witnessing his loss of control is exhilarating. It chases away the stinging pain still enveloping my body, and fills me with a new sensation I’ve never experienced. Whatever was stolen from me all those years ago in that basement, I’ve been gifted that and more as Colton fills the emptiness.

  Time feels suspended; the outside world doesn’t exist.

  The cool kiss of the floor touches my tender, heated skin as he lays me down. His blue eyes blaze with want, and despite his hurried movements to take me, he’s careful not to cause more pain than I can tolerate as my back rubs against the floor.

  “Lift up,” he orders, and I do, allowing him to grab ahold of my hips and relieve my backside of the friction. He expertly unthreads the knots alongside each of my legs, his gaze holding mine as he frees them. Then he’s inside me, hard and demanding, burying his cock inside my core until I’m crying out.

  Anchoring his forearms beneath my knees, he raises my hips to meet his deep thrusts. His hands pin me where he wants me as he slams my walls, his own husky groans mingling with mine. His powerful movements cause the rope harness to tighten, giving my nipples a pinch, and I lock around him.

  “Fuck…” He drives deeper, a hiss escaping his mouth as my walls contract.

  “You won’t hurt me,” I assure him, knowing he’s still holding back. “I need to feel all of you…right now.”

  “So damn beautiful,” he rushes out. Then he releases my legs and drops down to capture my wrists. Pushing them over my head, he fastens them to the floor as his body covers mine. The weight of him bearing down on me sends an erotic thrill through my body.

  His cock is so hard…so engorged…I feel him stretching me, claiming me, and I wrap my legs around him, meeting each thrust as he ravishes every inch of me.

  I’m climbing. My blood firing through my veins. I buck my hips as the pull starts low in my back, arching and straining my body against the ropes. Colton’s chest bears down, holding me in place as he slams into me, eliciting a sharp cry.

  He offers me his neck, and I don’t hesitate. I bite down on the soft juncture as my orgasm spirals free, initiating an onslaught of serene waves that ebb and gain momentum again, until my entire body is engulfed in the sensation.

  His thrusts speed, and I can feel he’s right there… “Don’t you dare pull out,” I order. “I want all of you—” I can’t finish, because my command sets him off. He looses a guttural roar against my lips as he releases deep inside me.

  His cock pulses against my walls as my body consumes him.

  “Christ,” he breathes against my neck. His labored breaths brush my skin before he pushes back. Still inside me, he raises up to unbind my wrists, then places a tender kiss to each. His mouth then seals mine, his tongue probing deep to taste me, and I match his intensity. Loving, needing, wanting more.

  Then he’s moving inside me again, his mouth and cock coaxing my body, sending a fresh wave of heat racing across my skin.

  “Are you ready?” he asks, a sexy smile curving his mouth.

  I laugh. “You’re looking at me like you’ll cry if I say no,” I say, running my fingers through his hair, over his back.

  “I absolutely will, goddess,” he says, planting a kiss to the scar along my collarbone. An ache catches in my throat. “We won’t be done here until I’ve made every single part of your body mine.”

  His hand roams down my thigh, bringing my leg up over his shoulder. Popping his finger into his mouth, he then reaches down to caress my ass, working his way to my back channel, where he rests the wet pad of his finger.

  His eyes beckon permission to enter me there, and a small bubble of anxiety rises within my chest. “Yes. I trust you,” I say, snaking my arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss me.

  A light pressure at the tip of my channel, and then he inserts his finger, drawing a clipped cry from me. His mouth hungrily swallows my moans as his finger delves deeper, slowly opening me up to him. A sharp pressure builds and then a quick, gratifying relief follows as my muscles loosen to take more.

  He groans as I contract around him, my walls tightening as he pulls out to push in farther. He backs out all the way, then grasps my arms, hauling me up against his chest and into a semi-sitting position. His hands work the binding along my back, freeing me of the rope harness.

  As my nipples are released, the rush of blood rapidly returning makes them throb, and I breathe hard, unable to contain the sudden arousal. His mouth is on them, suckling the piercing pain away and affectionately massaging intense feeling into each one.

  He thrusts hard once, filling me completely, before he pulls away. Guiding me to stand, he says, “I need you in a better angle.” Then he kisses me deeply as he lifts me into his arms.

  I’m carried over to the bench where we spent our first moment together. He pushes the leg rests beneath the bench, hiding them away, then pulls the lower knee rests out. Once he has me positioned over the bottom curvature, my knees propped on the rests, he lassos a length of rope around the front bar and makes a knot. “No restraint,” he says. “I want your body to be free to command me. Safe words always, and I’ll pay extra attention to your body language.”

  I look up at him, a smile twisting my lips. “Please, pay extra close attention to my body.”

  He winks, and drops down to kiss me while placing the knot in my hands. Moving away, he says, “Hold this for leverage, goddess. You’re going to need it.”

  His heated warning sends an electric current through me, and I nod.

  He stands behind me, and I can feel his hot skin, hovering near but not touching. Then a thick band of black material is slipped over my eyes. I gasp as he tightens the blindfold. “No restraints, but I didn’t say anything about sensory deprivation.”

  A flutter wings to life in my belly, and I bite down on my lip. He drops another soft kiss to my shoulder, then his hands trail the
length of my body, feeling the raised skin and tender marks. His inspection arouses me almost as much as the anticipation for him to fill me.

  As he reaches my rear-end, his fingers trace my slit, gathering the wetness there and then smoothing it over my anus. He starts slowly again, inserting just the tip of his finger, allowing me to become accustomed to the pressure.

  And when he sinks deep, my sharp intake of air causes him to halt, but I say, “Green,” and he plunges farther. My ass bucks off the bench, and his hand covers one cheek to hold me steady.

  “Breathe, goddess,” he urges. I comply, and he positions another finger at my entrance.

  I ease back slowly, encouraging him on. Colton would never inflict pain on me that I couldn’t endure. And if I’m going to take his impressive cock…then I need to ready myself.

  The pressure increases, and my stomach muscles clench, but I breathe through it, and soon both his fingers are inside me, massaging my channel. I wriggle against the bench, craving an equal pressure up front to stimulate my clit.

  He always knows what I need, and his other hand is there swiftly, his fingers circling my swollen nub. I moan with relief.

  Suddenly the pressure is gone, and the head of his cock presses up against me as he continues to rub my clit. He drags the head along my crease to gather more lubrication, and the slide of his thick, warm flesh as I drench his cock rekindles my arousal.

  He pauses at my opening, waiting for my assent. “Green,” I say, gripping the knot in my hands and bracing my back. He places his palm on my lower back and rocks into me. My muscles contract, closing down around his head, refusing to take his size. I release an unsteady breath and flex my vaginal walls, which pushes him in deeper.

  “Goddess…” He utters a harsh curse. “I can never express how fucking perfect you are. Work that ass. Take my cock.” His breathing ratchets as I do just that, flexing and releasing, opening myself up to him a little more with each movement.

  As he drives in deeper, the pressure intensifies. And when he’s completely filling my channel, I cry out. He holds himself there. Braced against my ass, he stills, allowing my body to expand in order to accommodate him.