WHISPER: Sins of Seven Series

by Dani René

  “Tell me, sweet toy.” I reach up, stroking her cheek. “Look at me.” She lifts her stare to meet mine. “Never be scared to tell me anything. This agreement we’re entering into, it’s important that you are honest, brutally honest.”

  “There was something I saw, I’ve just…” Her cheeks darken to a dark red rose color. “I wanted to try it, but fear got the better of me, so…”

  “So… you wanted to know if I could do whatever it was to you?” She nods slowly, almost too innocently, and I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy whatever it is. Her lips, full and plump, curl into a smile that’s both seductive and mischievous. “And what exactly did they do?”

  “He… the Dom, whipped her, took her into subspace where she was crying from pleasure. It was pure. It was emotional. There was such a rawness to it, that…”

  Before she can voice the rest of her sentence, I reach for her cunt, cupping it in my hand. Her heat is scorching. I’d love to take her there. To make her feel everything she’s talking about. It’s something a Dominant and submissive can achieve, but it needs to have full trust. When pain becomes so intense, the senses are heightened in such a way, it’s almost as if the sub is floating in her mind.

  “Did you come?” I ask, allowing one finger to stroke the seam of her body. Shaking her head, she covers my hand with hers, pressing our combined touch to her core.

  “I… I did,” she confesses. It’s then her darkened gaze flits up to meet mine in a ferocious standoff. The lust that shines and burns in her eyes is something I’ve never seen in any woman. Not even Raquel. “Will you show me? Can you take me there?”

  It’s not a question, she’s pleading, begging for it. Many submissives beg for orgasm, or more spanks, anything, but something in the way Giana is practically salivating at the thought, turns my restraint from one hundred to zero in the blink of an eye.

  “You disobeyed me?” I question, still with my fingers on her mound. She nods slowly, knowing that she’s in for a punishment. But, before we get there, I want her to eat, she needs her strength. “Why do you want to go there, Toy?” Something shifts between us then. I don’t know if it’s her need or my craving, but the air is heavy with an unspoken truth. We’re both broken souls. Both searching for more out of the cards we’ve been dealt, but not finding it apart. It’s been a couple of days, not long at all, but she’s given me what I needed.

  “To forget, to be free,” she says, and I know it’s the truth.

  Nodding, I smile. “I’ll do it, but not tonight. First, we’ll eat and then we’ll play. I want to learn about you, Gia. Everything there is to know.”

  Last night, her body relented. Bowing to my needs the way I want my submissive to be, she allowed me in. And I want to delve deeper. I need to know what makes her tick. I want to learn all there is to know about this sultry goddess.

  “I take it you’re on the pill? If not, I suggest we get you on one immediately. I hate condoms,” I say gruffly.

  “I am, have been for many years,” her words are whispered. Soft and sweet.

  When I first laid my eyes on Giana in Sins that night, I knew I’d have her. There was an innate perverseness in the way she’d stare at the shows on stage every night. As if it was her way of finding herself. Her need and her truth. We all go to Sins for different reasons. I find women who want that Daddy Dom kink. They need the pleasure and pain and want it from an older man. I give that and more. The only thing I’ve never done was take a long-term sub. Never kept one or wanted to own one.

  “Come,” I say, pulling my hand from her body and guiding her to the table that’s been set with our dinner. Two plates, one glass of wine to calm her down, and water for me. Once we’re seated, I watch her before speaking once more. “Tell me, Giana. Why exactly do you need to go there?” I need the truth.

  She lifts her gaze, pushing my middle finger into the material of her soaked thong, and I almost come from the slick juices that soak it. Then, she moans her confession. “I want freedom from the memories.”

  I’m not sure what she means. I search her eyes; they’ve darkened to an endless black abyss of confusion, fear, and yearning. “If pain is all you’ll need to be free, sweet Toy. I’ll gladly take you there, but you need to trust me implicitly.”

  “I do,” she affirms boldly.

  Her confidence is intoxicating. Confusion is at the forefront of my mind as to how this beautiful woman can be so broken. But more so, I wonder how she can give me, a man she’s only known for a short time, all her trust. It normally takes months, years to get to a point of such openness and trust for any relationship. Especially when she’s asking me to take her to a place of utter and complete unawareness. Where she will need me to care for her, because when she reaches subspace, she won’t be thinking clearly. It’s as dangerous as much as it is beautiful and freeing.

  “Who hurt you?” I demand. My tone is no nonsense, an order rather than a question.

  I’m expecting an honest answer from her, but her eyes give her away immediately, and the lie that slips from her mouth has anger barreling through me. “Nobody.” When she stands and turns away from me, I follow. Gripping her shoulders, I tug her back against my solid chest. Leaning in, I rest my chin on her shoulder and my hands on her arms, holding her steady.

  “Listen, little Toy. Never. Ever. Fucking lie to me. Understood?” A violent shudder travels through her frame, and I can’t help smiling. A little fear instilled in my toys always makes me happy. It’s part of what gets me off. Why I enjoy this life.

  “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t give you the answer you wanted. Nobody hurt me. I did it to myself.”

  The truth slips from her, and I know with all I am that she’s giving me what I asked for. She’s offering me her, all of her. She turns in my arms, her face tipped up to mine. Raw honesty shines in those dark eyes. I want to make everything right; I want to fix her.

  Who the fuck are you kidding? You can’t even fix yourself.

  “Cocky toys get punished,” I warn.

  “Then punish me,” she whimpers, the words dripping with desire. Her eyes dance with the challenge and I smirk with satisfaction.

  Gripping her wrist, I drag her to the back of the room. The wooden bench that sits waiting for us is exactly where I want her. The view of the garden sits beyond, lit up with soft candles. She wouldn’t be able to see further than the patio, but it’s enough to give her something to focus on while I make her pay for being a cheeky toy.

  She wants to be punished? She’ll be punished. Without a thought, I tug the zipper of her dress until the material pools at her feet. The lingerie I bought looks exquisite on her beautiful body. Every curve, each incredible inch, has my mouth watering. I want to make sure all she offers me tonight is her complete and utter submission.

  I don’t know why. I can’t explain it. But I want all of her. Every damn inch. All her moans, whimpers, and pleas. They’re all mine. I will own them. No other man will give her what I can, and will. For the first time in a long while, I’m alive.

  “Too bad I won’t enjoy this scrap of material,” I growl, gripping the leather straps that lie over her shoulders and hug her beautiful breasts. I pull the small blade from my pocket and slice through each strap. Once the bra is at her feet, I spin her to face me. “Sit on the bench. Don’t move.” The order is clear. She obeys without refusal, settling herself on the wood. I grab the rope and kneel at her feet. Gently, I twine the thick silk rope around each ankle, leaving enough for her wrists. “Lie back.”

  Once again, she submits to my demand and reclines on the long-cushioned bench. Since it’s shaped like an upside-down T it will have her at my mercy. I grab her left ankle, making sure she’s bound to the wooden leg, then fasten the rest of the rope to her left wrist. Mimicking the action on the right side of her body, I stand back and regard her spread legs. Open to me. For me to taunt and tease. For me to devour as I please.

  “You look utterly delicious, Toy,” I tell her. Watching those eyes glist
en, I can’t help grinning when she opens her mouth to respond, but she’s left speechless.

  I reach for the thin flogger that’s lying beside the bench and lift it, making sure she sees exactly what I have in hand. When I raise the slim leather toy and bring it down on either thigh, she whimpers, tugging on her restraints, but I know she’s bound perfectly. You’re not getting away this time, Toy. Or ever again. My mind confirms. I’m keeping her. She’s mine.

  I continue my assault on her body. On her smooth, creamy flesh. She’s stunning, lying there bound for me. Needy and wet, but begging for mercy. The small red prints on her creamy flesh make me thicken in my slacks. “What—” Before she can voice her concern, I spank her again and again. Small red markings appear on her creamy skin, my initials E. D. which are engraved on the flogger, prominent on the porcelain flesh.

  “You’re not allowed words, Toy. Remember you’re playing my game now.” Lifting the leather, I bring it down on her pussy, which is covered by the lace material, earning me a loud thwack and her loud cry.

  I watch the tears form in her eyes; they glisten like black diamonds in the candlelight. I find myself entranced. Like never before. What is this toy doing to me? Why do I lose all control with her?

  “Please, I… I need…”

  “You need to come? You’ve already come, without my permission,” I taunt. “Didn’t you?” She nods. Picking up the knife, I hold it up to the light, causing it to glisten. Her eyes widen; she watches me in awe. There’s no fear in her expression. Merely excitement, desire, and shock. I lean in, watching her chest rise and fall with quick breaths. I trail the sleek silver blade over her nipples, each one hardened to little pebbles.

  I’m tempted to taunt them, bite them and suck them into my mouth. But for now, I refrain. “You have beautiful tits, Giana.” My use of her name instead of Toy startles me, as well as her from the look on her face. She is mine to play with, yes, but as I watch her writhe under the soft leather, something inside me shifts. Emotion. Need. It’s fierce, unyielding, and I know she can feel it too.

  I slowly edge the blade down her body, teasing it to her bellybutton, I hook it into the diamond ring that’s pierced through her flesh. A slight tug has her whimpering, and my dick fighting its way from my slacks.

  Watching with rapt attention as she licks her lips, her gaze pinned on my movements. I won’t hurt her, but she doesn’t know that. This is a test of her trust in me. I have to make sure she’s giving me everything. Submitting fully. She lifts her gaze then, her head resting on the wood, and she smiles.

  “Please…” Her voice is raspy, filled with longing.

  “Begging isn’t going to make this go any faster, but I do enjoy hearing it.” I smirk, running the tip of the blade over her cunt. An unmistakable tremble travels over her when I press down on her clit. The material hinders any further movement, but she sucks in an audible breath.

  I move my hand, along with the silver blade to the waistband of the panties, and slice them from her hips. As soon as they fall, she’s bare to my gaze, just how I want her all the time.

  “Your cunt is perfect.” My murmur is filled with reverence as I take in the smooth flesh, glistening and intoxicating. Kneeling at the bench, my face is in line with the drenched pink entrance of her body. “You’re so wet, Toy. So responsive to the pain.” Lifting my hand, I tease her slit with the cold steel, and another gasp of shock falls from her plump lips. “Do you like the anticipation, Giana? The fear that’s coursing through your veins as I tease your cunt with the knife?” My tone is raspy with desire. My cock is so hard it could break through the fucking wood right now. If I fuck her in this instant, I won’t last long.

  Rising, I tug off the T-shirt I’m wearing and drop it to the floor. Her eyes are wide as she drinks in my body with her heated gaze. It both warms me and scorches me at the same time with a single look.

  “Please, Eli. I need it,” she rasps with such innate longing that it tugs at my chest.

  Her pleading sounds erotic, sensual. A soft whimper that makes me want to punish her some more just to hear it. The begging is something that I normally hinder by fucking their throats, but with her, I crave it.

  I don’t respond. Instead, I lift the crop, with a small leather tip, and bring it down on her clit. Harder and harder. Her cries are fuel; they’re lightning strikes to my skin and they burn and sizzle through me. Heating my blood with a desire so ferocious I could burn down the whole goddamn house.

  “Do you want my cock, Toy?” I grunt. Her head moves quickly, nodding. With her open like this, I could take either hole. I’m aching to drive into her tight ass, to feel it squeeze me, sucking me into her body.

  I continue my assault. Her beautiful pussy is turning a deeper shade of red, and I lick my lips at the stunning sight of it. Her thighs are trembling as she tugs on the restraints. She’s close to orgasm, I can tell by how her moans and breathing change. Her chest rises and falls quickly as she tries to calm herself.

  “Do not come,” I warn. Immediately, I stop spanking her clit, leaving her convulsing on the bench, her arms tugging on the tether. I can’t wait anymore. Everything about her turns my lust into a raging inferno. Unbuckling my belt, I tug it from the loops, and drop it with a loud thud on the floor. My slacks and boxers find themselves in a heap of material and I step up to her. Gripping my cock in my fist, I tease her wet cunt with the crown, painting her with my pre-cum. Marking her.

  “Fuck, please, please, please!” she cries out. The agony lacing her tone is more than I can bear, so I drive into her, seating myself fully inside her body in one long thrust.

  “This what you wanted?” I pull out and slam back in. Again, and again, my body plunges, thrusts, and violates her beautiful tight hole. I know she’s close when I feel the flutter of her inner walls around my shaft. Slick with arousal, they coat my erection.

  My hips slam into her. The table squeaks on the floor. This is violence, this is raw unadulterated fucking. There’s no love here. I can’t allow that emotion to infiltrate what I do. But when she lifts her head, there’s something shining in those pretty eyes.

  She regards me with a look that tells me I’m saving her.

  From what? I don’t know.

  All I do recognize is the thankfulness, the joy, and the pleasure I’m giving her.

  Reaching for her clit, I tug and twist it until she’s screaming. Her eyes roll back in her head and her legs tremble; her hands tug at the restraints.

  “Fuck! Eli!” Her voice is raspy.

  Her throat must be aching by now. With my free hand, I lean in and grip her throat. Teasing her clit, taking away her breath, I fuck her relentlessly until I feel it. Her walls tighten, they grip me in a vise hold, squeezing me.

  “Milk my fucking dick, Toy. Take all my seed.” My grunts are feral, growled like a fucking beast. Basal desire, animalistic need, and filthy hunger drive us into oblivion as I mark her from the inside as she marks me. Our release shatters us both, and I wonder in that moment if our broken pieces will ever be mended again.

  Giana

  Once the ropes fall away, Eli massages my limbs gently. His touch is vastly different to the way he just fucked me. As if he’s now closed off the side of him that’s volatile, the anger and rage hidden behind the gentleman that’s caring for me. I’ve never felt such an intensity as I do with him.

  “Are you okay?” he questions in a low, calm tone. Caramel eyes meet mine, causing me to smile. Emotion is evident in his gaze. It warms me, as if he’s trying to hold me with a single glance. Keeping me safe from all I fear.

  “Yes.” My own response is whispered as he helps me off the bench. A wobble in my knees makes him wrap his arms around my waist, tugging me against his warm skin. Lifting my gaze, I meet his. There’s a tenderness in his expression that steals my breath. The way he’s looking at me is not the way I expected him to. There’s too many emotions swirling around us, and even though I’ve known him for half my life, he doesn’t know me. At least,
he doesn’t recognize me. I’m no longer a girl. I’m grown. A woman. A toy.

  “This… I don’t…” he starts, but shakes his head. Lifting me easily in his strong arms, he sets me down on a plush leather sofa. The man is torn, I see it in the depths of his shimmering eyes. He’s warring with himself and I’m not sure how I can fix him. Or even if I want to. I like the broken man. His pieces fit with mine. It’s always been like that. I want to tell him. In this moment, right here, I think about confessing who I am. But when he turns his back to me, I feel it, that niggling in my gut. Fear. Anxiety. They grip me. Gnawing at my insecurities, at my addiction for him. This isn’t love. I’m stupid to think it is.

  All we had was lust.

  Voracious. Hungry. Dangerous.

  The problem is, I fell. A long time ago. I fell in love with the man before me. And now I want more. I need more. “Eli—”

  “I’m wrong for you on so many fucking levels, Giana. The darkness inside me, it’s… I want to hurt you. I want to make you cry.” He pivots on his heel, pinning me with a glare. “I want to fucking break you.” The words are hissed in a feral growl. But it’s when he drops to his knees before me, gripping my thighs as if I’m the one who can save him, that I realize he wants me more than I bargained for. I thought I would have to play a game with him. To make him want me. But I don’t. He holds onto me, his fingers pressing painfully into my flesh.

  “I’m already broken, Elijah. Can you not see my fragments? They’re in your hands. Just look closer. See me,” I plead, the words unbidden, yet true, falling from my lips. I want him to see the girl he left. The one that gave him her heart and body. Our gazes are locked in a standoff. There’s no going back. I can never take back what I’ve just said.

  He stares at me for such a long time, I wonder if he’s ever going to respond. I hold my breath, hoping for a miracle. Praying to a god that never gave me anything, that I don’t believe in, to just this once, show me this is real. “Who hurt you?” he asks again. The question he voiced earlier brings the bile from my stomach up to my throat, burning with the truths I want to tell him, but I don’t. Instead, I push his hands from my legs and stand.