“Hmm?”
Moans and little gasps accompanied my sucking, as well as a jerk when I grabbed a handful of her no doubt throbbing ass.
But... Pain, remember? I stepped away to my pile of goodies and found the forceps, returned to her to decide where to apply them first. Not her clit...not yet.
I took hold of one areola with finger and thumb, and nudged my thigh onto her slit. Pleasure and pain, always.
As I opened the jaws of the forceps, I warned her. “Keep still.” Her little step backward got her nowhere. “You can’t leave. I’ve got this.” Her nipple stretched in my grip and went no further. Despite her struggles, the steel jaws closed. The ratchet engaged.
Click. Click. A precision medical instrument. Exquisite pain. Click. Her loud squeaks made my already hard cock poke into my pants. I adjusted my length and an idea surfaced.
Why not? This wasn’t a playground. I unzipped myself, but left the button done up, then went around behind her, and shoved my cock between her legs.
Bliss. Her thighs were slick with her arousal. When I paused, halfway along, her inner thighs shook. I nudged along the seam, pressing upward, feeling the head dipping ever so slightly into her entrance. Agonizing but amazing. How I wanted to fuck her properly. She tilted her pelvis back at me.
No condoms of course, but I’d been made to get tests prior to working for Vetrov. Why weren’t they worried about pregnancy? This wasn’t the time. Figure it out later.
My smile was probably evil.
“Want me in there?”
“Nuh-uh.” But she gave a small, strangled grunt when I poked at her, and bowed her head. I loved those sexy, funny noises that turned-on women made.
“Going somewhere?”
I trapped her with my hand in a V under her jaw. Smelled her neck and bit back a groan. Mine. That thought was getting louder. I teased her some more, sliding my thick cock back and forth, in that slippery valley down here.
“Like being caught, hey? By a big bad man?”
When she choked out a no, I laughed. I dragged her pussy lips apart with both hands so I could fake fuck her better. Slippery, wet pussy. I closed my eyes to feel.
Wait. I had the second forceps in my pocket. Even better. Peering over her shoulder, I pinched her other nipple flat. In tiny increments, I squeezed in the forceps, stopping at the second click.
For a few seconds, her screeches threatened to crack glass, going high pitched and desperate. But still she rocked her body against me.
“Conflicted, much?” I kissed her ear, bit it, then I tapped the forceps to make her breasts wiggle. More of her juices moistened my cock.
Getting bound and flogged had turned her on. Pain too, most likely.
I frowned. Regret pinned my thoughts for a moment. I rested my forehead in her hair, listening to her, avoiding looking at the window opposite.
What I could do with you if I had you for real. Sad.
It wasn’t to be.
Taking my cock in hand, I tucked it away, and zipped up. It took a ton of effort, but I managed. Sweat sheened her body and wet my shirt where I’d leaned on her. My own sweat dribbled down the side of my face. I wiped it away with my forearm.
Red lines crisscrossed her body. My fingers sifted over raised welts, felt the heat.
I stood before her, studying her succulent, panting mouth and I rested my knuckle across it.
“Lick me. Suck it inside.”
Such hesitation. In the tiny movements of her facial muscles I saw how bothered she was by my command – in the wrinkling of her forehead, in the twitch of mouth.
This wasn’t part of the deal, I knew that. Pain and fucking, sure, but this was a direct command...akin to domination. “Take it.”
Her tongue emerged and she licked me once, then her head dipped. Her lips softly enclosed my knuckle. I felt my eyes widen and I memorized the look on her face.
I’d never been a Dom to Elenor. But in Jazmine, hell, I saw the possibility written in sweat and tears. If only we were free. If only.
I removed my finger and ran my hands over her, stopping at her hips. “I’m going to make you come now, after I make you hurt some more.”
“No, please. Not more pain.” The frown showed above the blindfold. She shook her head. In the leather of the straitjacket, her arms writhed as if to break free. “Let me go! Please?”
“Shh. I can’t.” My mean side wrestled with my good. Mean won. Besides, I knew I hadn’t done enough.
I strode to the pile and fished out the crop. I beat her ass and thighs and pussy until her lower lips were as pink and engorged as seemed possible in a woman. I beat her until she was squeaking and dancing. Until she was pressing forward, eager and writhing, into the whack of the crop.
Ready. Ever so ready.
The next three strikes smacked dead center onto her clit.
Entranced, I watched her squirm for a fraction longer.
Every visible muscle on her body strained. She cried out, arching so hard her weight took her off her feet and left her swinging with only the chains keeping her upright.
“One more.” I drew back my arm and thudded the crop squarely onto where I could see her little swollen clit peeking from her folds. Her screams as she came kept going for some time. Unblinking, I drank them in.
Like water to a thirsty man. Like meat to a lion. Be still my fucking beating heart.
Her last noises died away and she hung in the chains and ropes.
Strait jackets, I decided, had definite advantages, but I’d gotten side-tracked. I hadn’t made her scream enough, had I? Not painful ones. Shit.
I swept aside my sweat-sodden hair then I undid the last buttons on my damp shirt, peeled it off, and dropped it to the floor.
I hadn’t fucked her. Neither had I drawn blood.
Was the mic really that good? I leaned in so my mouth was a half inch from her ear.
“What happens next, you may not like.”
Her head rose as she searched for me, as if she could see through the cloth. I wasn’t sure why I’d told her that. Hadn’t I decided it was kinder if she didn’t know what was coming?
I took the forceps off her nipples then I reached around and undid the knot. Without the blindfold, her eyes were on mine in an instant.
It was several seconds before she figured out how to talk. “Why...why’d you take it off?”
She was as puzzled as I.
Then I knew.
“Because.” I thumbed her lower lip, rolling it out until I could see her teeth. The tears on her cheek drew me and I wiped them away. “I’m done with pretending.”
I hadn’t blindfolded her to be nice. I’d done it to hide my nastier side. My sadism wasn’t all there was to me, but it was me. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.
The whip was the surest way.
With one strike, I had her shrieking, with the fifth, I had blood shining in the mark. I turned her so her back was on display to the client and retied her to the chains. I’d meant to try to deceive, to smear the blood. There was no point to that when it was plentiful.
Control, I reminded myself. Remember to stop.
My never-ending question popped up. Was I liking this too much?
I swallowed and answered myself. Probably.
Chapter 9
Everywhere hurt, but my back and thighs had been fucking napalmed.
My last scream seemed to have scorched the air itself. The echoes rang in my ears long after I’d stopped and all I was doing was panting and hissing through bared teeth and hoarse throat.
A few times, I’d forgotten to breathe.
“Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.” My swearing was aimed at Pieter now, not the unseen Gregor.
He’d stopped pretending. Hah. I’d thought that funny for all of twenty seconds. Then the little whip had uncurled in his hand like an obedient snake.
The first hit had been a revelation. Many of the subsequent hits hadn’t been as bad because he’d varied the power, but enough of them
, definitely enough. I suppose it might have been a plan to stretch this out so Gregor was happy. I still hated him.
Pieter came to my front and flicked out the whip so it tapped my stomach. “It’s done.”
“Fuck.” I gasped then closed my eyes. “Thank god.” My sniffling might be blatant weakness but so had been the shrieking and the pleas for him to stop. “Then you can let me go.”
A sound made me open my eyes. He was before me, one step away.
“No. Now I get to fuck you.”
Somehow, despite the others watching, he’d given me the best orgasms of my life. The only ones with a man. That they’d come simultaneously with pain was mind-bending.
I’d wavered in and out of a strange state where nothing existed but him manipulating me, doing whatever he wanted to my body. He’d made me his puppet. The intensity of that sheer dominance as well as the fiery throb and bite of the instruments he’d used had sent me reeling. Nothing had mattered except what he did.
Now he’d ceased, I could recognize it for what it was – devastating and damn scary. Every time my back pulsed with fire, I was reminded of that.
With Gregor, I knew what he was – pure evil. Pieter had sneaked in and taken over when I thought he was on my side. I’d been ready to bear whatever pain he dished out. But not this, and he still wasn’t letting me go.
“You hurt me so much. They won’t mind if we don’t...fuck.” I hated how small and desperate my voice sounded.
The speaker buzzed and I flinched, but no one spoke.
“Shh. Stop talking. It’s not worth the risk.”
“You’re talking!”
“I think they like it if I threaten you. Don’t you?” He yelled the last words.
After a second came, “Agreed. We are finding this quite amusing. Keep going.”
I flicked my gaze, as if to look over my shoulder. I’d almost convinced myself we weren’t really being watched.
Pieter grabbed my chin, crowded in. “Here. Me. I’m the one fucking you.”
I stared back, wondering who he truly was inside. Those brown eyes concealed something far more sinister than the average man. All my boyfriends had been wimps compared to him. He dwarfed them in height and muscle but also in something I’d always run a mile from – that me, Tarzan, you, Jane attitude.
I tried to shake loose his hold on my mouth but he only narrowed his eyes. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.” That I’d been right to run from men like this.
He scared me. Yet something about how he held my face was so personal that whenever I relaxed the slightest I felt my sense of danger slipping away. And that was dangerous in itself. I resisted.
“Ja, the things I would do to you, meisie,” he murmured. “’Meisie’ means girl, in case you wonder.”
I squirmed, the teensiest amount.
It wasn’t the Afrikaans word for girl that was making me wonder. He’d already done more than was sane. What else did he want to do to me?
This wasn’t just Gregor’s game anymore.
My nipples were rubbing on his chest sending crazy, hot signals to my sex. The ache between my legs intensified, intermingling with the throb from the whip marks. The aftermath of the pain was...distracting. Strangely sexual.
I wrenched my mind back on track and prayed he had no idea how his punishment was affecting me. Scary Tarzan, remember?
One of his fingers played with the corner of my mouth. “Ready?”
Lips parted, I breathed slower, entranced by his eyes.
Then I heaved in a deeper breath and was reminded of the creaking tightness of the leather. My fingers could barely wriggle in the mittens at the ends of the sleeves.
A little panic reached in and blotted out my thoughts.
“Pleeease, let me –”
After a single shake of his head, he wormed the blindfold into my mouth and tied it on. “No. No. Be good.”
He kissed my forehead then began to wind the whip around my breasts in a figure of eight pattern, linking it at the sides with the straps of the jacket, tying it all together in a neat pattern. Knotting it. “Pretty.”
Then he went to one knee, took a firm grasp of my breast, and licked me.
“Uh.” I could still talk in a gargle, just not well. My eyelids fluttered down. That tongue of his... For all of one second, I wanted him to stop.
The pressure on my breasts made them feel odd, like they’d pop any minute. Supersensitive, achy, but so nice when he sucked there. I shouldn’t succumb to this. I didn’t want to like this man touching me. Self-preservation drove me to wrench myself backward.
Only to be brought up short by the ropes at my shoulders and his tightening grip.
“Be still!”
The growl in his voice then his teeth applied to my nipple had my mouth slackening. I froze, shivering, all too aware of how much I was at his mercy. I was nude except for the straitjacket, my legs were tied apart, and the gag between my lips tasted bitter.
Where had the real world gone? I wanted to curl up on my sofa before my TV.
Wherever it was, I was here, tied up so tight he could use me every which way and I could do nothing. He turned his fierce gaze on me, still with his teeth fastened on my nipple and dangerously close to biting it off.
“Umm.” I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say, but nothing would come out intelligible anyway.
For the first time I saw humor in the crinkles about his eyes. His other hand had drifted from my back to my stomach and I felt his finger toy with my belly button, circling it.
“Now I’m getting somewhere. I have you quiet.”
He released my ankles from the bar. Was Pieter letting me go after all? But he wrapped his hands around my thighs and with his tongue played games with my poor abused clit. He was gentle. I lost count of many times he circled it without touching, blew air over it, tapped it without engulfing it. The bastard. Need grew. I wouldn’t cave in to this. But the pressure of lust built. Giving in was inevitable. I gasped out a choked fuck through the gag, jerking at the last infinitesimal licks he’d done. A feather would have more pressure. God.
Then I pressed forward onto his face.
Nothing.
He slowly rose, sliding his bare chest up my body to tower over me.
My throat tightened as I took in his male bulk.
The throb from my clit mingled with the ache in my lower stomach, the clawing pain, and the dub, dub, dub of my heartbeats.
“Hmm.” For ages he watched me and I wavered, swaying, watching him back.
I sank, half aware that he was in some weird way hypnotizing me but not caring at all. His shoulder shifted and his hand pushed between my thighs. I felt the tip of his finger probe upward in the wetness of my slit, then slide effortlessly inside me.
I sighed at the pleasure, rocked back my head, half shut my eyes. There was nothing I could do and it felt so good.
His mouth covered my gagged one and with surprising gentleness, his lips and tongue explored me there, while his fingers below widened me, fucked me, explored my pussy.
“You know I want you. One day, I’ll have you stand still, unbound, so I can look at you before I fuck you.”
The statement shocked me.
The craziness of that. I had no answer and I was certain my eyes were wide as beacons. I tugged and was strangely reassured to find my arms still wouldn’t budge. His jacket. His hand at my waist. His whip tied about my breasts. His gag. In the real world, I was often lost, scattered, running in ten directions at once.
Here, I was pinned in one place.
He smiled.
Everything flipped. Though I wanted away from here and them and their dirty voyeurism. Right now, here, I wanted him in me. And I wanted to be me, myself, I. And I wanted to be his. I wasn’t sure they were compatible. If I was his, there might be nothing left of me.
Was this what I had been missing all my life?
“I can see you thinking. Don’t.”
Since forev
er, I’d shunned skin on skin. Yet in this moment it drew me, like a dewdrop of good among the horror. I leaned forward and kissed him once, chastely, with my bound lips, like a princess bestowing an honor.
His snarl and the roughness of his answer took me by surprise. He grasped both sides of my ass and hoisted me up to the level of his cock, shoving me back into the creaking hold of the ropes. I could feel the tip center at my entrance. At the first savage thrust, I yelped. Soreness reawakened. My legs were forced apart.
His flesh slapped against mine in that dirty nasty rhythm of sex. Each time he withdrew, his cock almost pulled out, and in that split second when he moved to re-enter me, I wanted to wrench him into me harder. His bites on my neck, migrated downward and he bit my engorged breasts, leaving an exquisite path of pain, of possession, of teeth marks.
Stunned by his onslaught, I didn’t try to wrap my legs around him, though my heels bumped on his butt with each thrust.
I was going to have bruises on my bruises. He rode me hard, fucking me until I seemed one second away from coming. His own screaming grunt erupted as I felt his cock swell and cum fill me. I’d never heard a lover cry out. Though I hadn’t come, I was panting as hard as Pieter. He rested his forehead in my hair. With my arms secured, I couldn’t hug him, but his arms wrapped around me. When I hissed he muttered a sorry and moved his arms. At the sorry, I smiled. My thoughts wandered in that hazy zone of the well fucked, marveling that I had brought him to this.
When he pulled out, his cum dripped down my leg.
“Now you,” he gasped, his breath warming my ear. “I’m going to suck your clit until –”
A hum arrived at the same time as a new set of lights flickered on.
“Step away, Mister Pieter. Time for me to assess your performance and have a little talk with Jazmine.”
Our gazes met. The coldness of this surreal little world crashed in. As did terror. It wasn’t possible for me to forget what Gregor had done last time.
Chapter 10
Whatever protection I still drew from Pieter’s presence evaporated once he was restrained and towed aside. I knew why he couldn’t fight back, yet I was disappointed. Stupid. He wasn’t superhuman. The clutch of fear on my heart was unhinging me.
Seize me From Darkness (Pierced Hearts Book 4) Page 6