Hurting? She shook her head. “No.”
“Then no more talking, unless you’re trolling for another ass beating.”
She shook her head, since she hadn’t fully recovered from the first.
“Didn’t think so.” He rotated his fingers and firmly swirled against her swollen tissues.
She gasped. Her stunned objection dragged back down her throat by a silent gulp as his talented digits took up an erotic stroking cadence. Light. Shallow. In. Out. In. A deep slow roll through her back channel that awakened every tiny nuclei and electron centered between her legs.
“You have such a great ass. Lush. Round.” He firmly bit one cheek and then the other.
She yelped. More surprise than pain. She blew little panting breaths.
“The perfect cushion for my hips when I bury my cock deep inside this sweet dark little hole.”
His gruff voice, the incredible wickedness of the licentious threat, made her pussy juices well. She was turning into such a sex slut. Worse, she couldn’t make herself care.
As he spoke, his determined fingers kept up a steady, driving rhythm that began a slow build to pleasure, methodically working against the self-righteous defenses she’d built.
It wasn’t until that nagging little moral wall finally crumbled that she realized she’d been letting the general consensus that anal sex, along with other sexual acts, wasn’t proper cloud her own opinions. But how could anything that felt so incredibly good be wrong? Those moral prigs didn’t know what they were missing out on.
He delved deeper, forcing free the moan she’d held back. Damn, the man sure knew how to work her body. Coax her true emotions out of hiding. Make her face the reality of what she really craved.
She wanted to have sex with Pierce in any way, shape or form. Gentle. Rough. Everything in between. Let him use her body anyway he wanted. Wanted him to take her pussy. Her ass. Her mouth. Give him pleasure. Receive it in return. Experience every facet of erotic pain under his large hands. Or whatever implement he chose to use. And she was damn well going to let him know and gladly take whatever punishment he administered for speaking. Not just take it…glory in it.
She closed her eyes and zeroed in on the avalanche of feelings set off by his lengthy, bliss-provoking broad fingers and pushed back into his drilling strokes. The additional pleasure she felt nearly stole the breath from her lungs. “Yes. More. Please, Pierce. Open me. Prepare me to take your cock. I want—”
He stilled.
“Nooo. Don’t stop.”
When he didn’t restart, she had an Ah, Shit moment. Braced.
Instead of the sharp reprimand or hard crack across the ass she expected, the wide pad of his thumb skimmed over the tip of her hard clit.
She groaned. In relief. In morphing pleasure.
“I’d like nothing more than to give you what you want. Selfish bastard that I am, I want to ram balls-deep into this tight little orifice. Open you wide.” For emphasis, he spread the fingers buried inside her.
She whimpered. Squirmed to ease the strain of additional discomfort.
“Hear your unleashed screams of pleasure. But…”
She felt the comforting warmth of his breath next to her ear. “As much as you think you’re ready, love, you’re not. And no matter how much you test my restraint by begging, I won’t be rushed. Because when I do claim this sweet virgin ass, there’ll be no doubt it’s ready for the rough ride I intend to give it.”
“I—”
“Silence!”
The sharp, deeply growled demand sent a quiver of expectancy skittering up her spine.
“And to eliminate any wondering on your part, I have no intention of letting your disobedience slide. To be addressed once I have you restrained and spread wide open on the cross. Utterly at my mercy.”
She felt an embarrassing trickle of fluid slip down her thigh. Fuck. Guess she could add up-and-coming moderate pain slut to her list. No way was she going to the dark side. None of that radical S&M shit. She trusted Pierce not to force more pain than she could or was willing to take.
The rumble of his soft, appreciative laugh gained her full attention, let her know he wasn’t oblivious to her additional wetness. How could he be with his fingers well-seated in her ass and a bird’s-eye view of her weeping private parts.
His fingers left her for a split second. She barely had time to miss them when the tip of a butt plug pressed against her anus. She took a breath, relaxed into the determined pressure and pushed back.
“That’s it, baby.” His free hand dropped between her legs and worked a fingertip through her swollen outer folds, around her clit, skimming, tapping the peak of her deprived clit, never staying long enough.
When he added a few too-light pinches to the mix, she almost screamed for more. Caught back the demand just in time. Damn, how she hated not being able to verbalize her needs.
“I know it’s hard for you not to talk,” he said as if plucking the thoughts right from her overactive musings. “But you have to trust I know what I’m doing.”
Trust? Hell, that wasn’t the issue. She had one hundred percent faith in him. Too bad the rest of her body hadn’t seemed to have gotten the message with its infernal, unrelenting clamoring to have its sexual needs appeased ASAP. Damn frustrating as hell that the man knew exactly what she wanted, needed, so desperately and still withheld it. Sadistic jerk.
The next pinch to her clit, more forceful than the last, had her yelping as her body struggled to absorb the piercing pleasure.
She resettled across his lap, stunned to realize the butt plug was almost all the way in.
Sneaky devil. He did know exactly what he was doing. Not that she ever doubted it. The man exceeded in his every sensual undertaking.
He palmed her mound, squeezed gently. “Ready for the last little bit?” The question was laced with persuasive reassurance.
“Yes.”
“You’re doing good, brat. Better than good.” He ran his tongue up the base of her spine. “Allow your body to open up. Push back exactly like you did before.”
She followed his edict. Greeted the pressure instead of tensing.
A final swift push, a spark of pain.
She sucked in a gasp, pushed air out of her lungs, took several deep steady breaths and forced herself to remain relaxed. Her efforts were rewarded by a heated flow that settled into a slightly edgy aftermath.
“Perfect, doll.” His praise was followed by a firm squeeze to her waist. “Let’s get you on your feet.”
With his assistance and steady hands supporting her, she managed to get her wobbly legs under her. He continued to grip her waist until she was steady. With light pressure, he turned her to face him and pulled her between his legs.
He pressed his lips to her stomach.
Every muscle in her midsection trembled.
“So wonderfully sensitive.” He smiled up at her and with a light touch, skimmed the perimeter of her bellybutton. “Spread your legs for me.”
Stuffed full by the bigger butt plug, she did so tentatively.
He curled his hand through her crotch so his fingertips touched the butt plug and ran a gentle path from there back through her damp, swollen labia, just short of her clit.
She let her head fall back and a soft moan eased past her lips.
“I worked you pretty hard today. Would like to work you harder. But I need to know if you can take more.”
His unexpected offer to allow her the choice brought her head back up.
She was pretty sure her gaze was filled with surprise, but his held only genuine concern.
“I’m f—”
“Think carefully before you answer, love. I want honesty. Not misplaced false bravado. I know how stubborn you can be when trying to prove you can do something and damn the consequences. As much as I want you at my mercy right now, I don’t want to cause any undue pain. After all, we have plenty of time in the days ahead to test that unyielding mettle of yours.”
W
ell, that kinda took the wind out of her sails. Could she take more?
“Truth,” he reminded with a knowing look as he lightly stroked her outer thighs.
His touch felt so good, she wanted to close her eyes and immerse herself in the soothing sensation. “I can take more. Want to. But I don’t think at the same intensity as the last session.”
Pierce slid his hand up the entire length of her body, stopped at her underarms and stroked his thumbs over the outer curve of her breasts. Her nipples pearled. He studied her eyes. They were clear and showed nothing to suggest she’d given him anything but the truth that she could handle more. He intended to make the next session a gentle one, but it would be hell on him. Tied to the cross, susceptible to his slightest whim. But he was a Dom first and her pleasure was ultimately his and vice versa. Pain with pleasure was the ultimate goal. Not to put her out of commission for any length of time because he couldn’t keep control over his raging need to claim her, brand her sexually, in the way he truly wanted.
“Come here, brat.” He angled his head back, reached around to place a firm hand on the back of her neck and guided her lips to his. He took her mouth in a leisurely caress, running his tongue along the lax seam several times before venturing inside her sweet, sweet mouth.
When he broke off after long drugging moments, neither one of them was breathing too hard. Just a slight elevation in their breaths, feathering against each other’s in the minuscule space he’d allowed.
“We’ll give it a try, but I want your promise that if anything becomes too much, even the intensity of pleasure I intend to give you, you’re to let me know immediately.”
A soft smile played across her lips. “Intense pleasure, huh? You sure do make things hard on a girl.” She pulled back slightly and her eyes dropped to the vicinity of his crotch. Specifically his rigid dick. She licked her luscious lips, leaving behind a tempting shine. “As a matter of fact, I think you’re the king of hard.”
He repositioned his hands to give her nipples a solid pinch.
“Ow.” She frowned at him and tried to lean away.
He gripped harder.
She gasped and immediately came forward.
“Sure you want to pull?”
Her eyes narrowed to deep-brown slits.
He gave her a warning look. “Glaring at your Dom? Not a good thing. Now give me a proper answer.”
“Yes. I promise to let you know.”
“Much better.” He released his grip, appreciating the elongated stiff peaks her nipples had become. “Now, get that sassy ass of yours over to the cross.”
When she took several steps back and turned, he rose to his feet, but didn’t immediately follow, hanging back to enjoy the view of her beautifully pinked backside. Felt a surge of pride that he was the one who’d marked her, caused that rosy glow that nearly matched the base of the butt plug visible between her pert cheeks. An effect he looked forward to repeating again and again throughout their stay as he carefully built her endurance.
She’d handled what he’d dealt her well. Was probably feeling pretty proud of herself. What she didn’t know was that he’d held back. Hadn’t put full force behind his swings. Like a new car, you didn’t break it in doing zero to one-twenty the minute you drove off the lot. You cruised around town first, got the feel of how it handled. But once you’d mastered the vehicle and got it out on the open road, no cops in sight, you put the pedal to the metal.
“Face me,” he instructed when she reached her destination. “Back up to the cross, arms up and stretched out, legs spread as far as they’ll go.”
When she moved back to position her body and her ass hit the smooth wood, an almost inaudible hiss left her lips.
“Step up a second.” He reached into the shelved wall panel and withdrew a thin black-velvet pillow, slid it behind her ass and ran the long silk ribbons around the back of the cross and tied it off. Through the entire process, he took every opportunity to make contact with her lush body. Press his chest against hers. Brush his arms and hands over any part of her tempting body within reach.
Her sigh of contentment let him know she was enjoying it as much as him.
“A little consideration for your first time. New to the cross and the abuse dealt your back end, I don’t want to rub you raw. The cushion is thin. Enough to protect, but still let you feel most of the intended burn. Wouldn’t want to douse the fire completely.”
“Thank you, Pierce.” Her expressive eyes registered both relief and skepticism.
“You’re welcome. Don’t expect the same consideration the next time.” He pulled a cushioned cuff attached to a short chain from the shelf and Velcro-ed it to her wrist. After testing the fit so her circulation wouldn’t suffer or the leather leave unnecessary deep grooves in her tender flesh, he pegged the appropriate chain link in one of a series of holes drilled in the cross’ side. Repeated the process on her opposite hand and again on both her ankles. By the time he was done there was a discernible quiver in her legs. Pierce knew it didn’t have anything to do with extreme strain, since he hadn’t restrained her legs as tight as he usually would an experienced sub. That too would be a gradual process.
He glanced up from where he squatted at her feet, her partially glazed eyes confirmed his suspicion that the quiver was due partially to the unknown and anticipation of what he was going to do. He’d like to keep her guessing, but hell, if he held off much longer, his dick would be in danger of exploding. And not in a good way.
“We’re going to take this slow, babe.” Keeping eye contact to evaluate her every emotion, he traced his hands from her inner ankles, up her legs, past her knees to the junction of her thighs, stopping a hairsbreadth from her gaping pussy. “Doesn’t mean I won’t do everything I wanted to do. Use the few toys I intended.”
Her eyes flared, her chest rose and fell a bit faster. Yep. Definitely excited. Not a fleck of trepidation in those beautiful chocolate orbs. Only unconditional trust. His heart constricted as it did every time a woman graced him with that look. But not with the strangling intensity it did when directed at him through this particular woman’s eyes. “No more talking.”
She nodded, the soft long strands of her hair that had slipped over her shoulders caressing the creamy slopes of her plump breasts, momentarily diverting his attention.
How was it possible to be jealous of hair? Christ, he was really losing it. Get it together, asshole. Although his first inclination was to brush her hair back when he got up that far, he decided against it. The silky strands, feathered over her nipples after they’d been sufficiently sensitized would make an excellent torture device.
He glanced back down to where he was tracing the top of her inner thighs, the flat surface of his thumbnails making the barest contact with her already engorged outer lips. He blew a stream of warm air in a circular pattern around her pubic area, through her dewy opening directly on her clit. Moved in for a lighter-than-air lick on the tip of her clit.
Her entire body clenched. The groan that drifted down to him nothing short of sweet music to his ears.
He kept outward tension on her thighs. Used his thumbs to spread her open wider, giving him an excellent view of her pink center, the way it glistened. In the room’s subdued lighting it reminded him of early morning dew on deeply hued rose petals.
“Woman, your beautiful pussy, gaping, waiting for me to fill it, is a sight created to drive an ordinary man to his knees.” He huffed a clipped chuckle. “Good thing I’m made of sterner stuff.”
What drifted to his ears was that little sound, something like a strangled squeak. Less high pitched, more husky. A little shock. More than a little escalating need. Additional notes for the music to his ears. By the time he was done with her, he intended for her to deliver enough melodic sounds to play a whole goddamn symphony.
Time to add a few throaty low notes. He pushed a thumb up inside her. Not fast. Torturously slow.
She groaned. Several times between soft pants as he worked the full
length of his digit in, adding a few idle partial rotations while he savored every delightful moist inch and the way she clenched down when he paused. An appeal for him not to retreat. Not that he’d any intention of doing so. He loved playing with wet pussy. Ramping a female up until her creamy residue coated his fingers, oozed down his wrist and the inside of her tender, straining thighs. Warm honeyed rivulets he’d enjoy lapping up later when he was finished playing.
He took his time, allowing the pleasure to build for them both, and when he replaced his thumb with two fingers, she was more than ready, canting her hips out, squirming, whimpering. He could’ve used a waist strap, but this time he wanted to enjoy every aspect of her growing need for more, which her compressed lips revealed so nicely as she attempted to hold back any verbal request.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he said before he thought better of it, and waited a couple of seconds for her sex-clouded eyes to clear. “You can talk. But only to express emotions. An occasional—Oh God or please—something along those lines. No demands. And I swear, if you curse at me…well, let’s just say you’ll regret it. Understood?”
“Yes, Pierce.”
“Okay then.” He wasn’t sure why he’d granted her the privilege to speak. He just knew he wanted to hear her husky pleas, enjoy the rich sound of her delightful, sensual voice. She didn’t have one of those high-pitched scratchy, feminine voices that grated on a man’s ears. Most women had a bedroom voice when in the throes of passion. Heather sounded that way all the time. Even deeper when in a sexual fervor. A pleasing sound he was beginning to think he wouldn’t mind hearing for the rest of his life. Okay, dumbass, get your mind back to the task at hand. Speaking of which…he tore his gaze from hers to discover his hand had stopped moving.
As a well-known chef was famed for saying, Time to kick it up a notch.
Her moan echoed disappointment when he withdrew, rose and stepped away.
He wasn’t gone long, didn’t go far. Only a short length of time to retrieve several toys from one of the recessed compartments in the wall and place them within hand’s reach.
The first one he grabbed was a nice hefty dildo.
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