by Leia Shaw
As I hesitate, Nick grabs my upper arm and directs me, supports me, helps me lean forward and set my stomach on the armrest. The last few inches, I topple over, unable to control my descent, and end up face-first in a cushion. I turn my head sideways.
“Ready?” He smoothes his palm over my ass, smacks me once, then feels along my moist cleft.
Every time I’m in this position, I’m further convinced there is nothing more vulnerable than being ass up, arms tied behind, with every bit on display. And even though I trust Nick with my life, I don’t know if I’ll ever lose that little trickle of fear.
Something hard touches the side of my butt. The crop.
I inhale, wriggle into his fingers. He taps the crop lightly a few times against my ass, sending tingles across my cheeks. Harder, I want to tell him. But I wait.
“Interesting,” he muses.
“What?”
“Well.” He snaps the crop a little harder. “I can flick it with my wrist like this.” Little flames dance across my skin. “Or…I can give it a good swing.”
The crop lands on me with a crack that spills fire into my butt. I yelp and bite my lip.
“And make a nice red stripe.” He touches what feels like a welt across both cheeks.
Just when I recover, I hear another whistle and crack.
“Yeow!” Surely my skin has split. “Red!” I hiss and suffer for a second.
“You want me to stop?” he asks, incredulous.
“No.” I take a deep breath. “No. Just…slow down a little.”
“Hmm…so, yellow?”
I twist to look up at him. “Yellow? Yellow means speed up before it turns red.”
“You’re turning red already.” Amusement is soaked into every syllable.
I growl. “Fine. Yellow. Just a little lighter, please. Flicking. Flicking is good.” Though now I’ve had a second, it’s not so bad. The heat spreads within, pulses.
“I’ll recalibrate.”
“You’ll… What the fuck?” Trust Nick to go all scientific on me.
Without warning, again he hits me on one side, lighter, but almost exactly the same place, five times in succession. I squeal and burrow into the cushion, then can’t stop trying to get up.
Nick squats next to me, one hand pushing down on the small of my back. My clit is so sensitive the feel of the leather sticking to my flesh is exquisitely glorious.
“You said fuck?” he whispers in my ear. “Now you can say dirty words?”
I swallow and meet his eyes. He’s inches away and yet a world away. My stinging butt captures most of my attention.
“Want me to hit harder? Tell me to hit harder.” He grins. “Beg me.”
That wakes me.
“No! Not harder.” God, not harder. I like the burn but not all-out screaming pain. I’m learning. Where I’m at right now is nice. I want more of that.
His mouth twists, and he pinches my butt. “Then beg me to hit softer.”
I’m not going to beg. I wiggle and move to escape his pinches. “No.”
“No? Then maybe I’ll stop?”
Where has this insufferable man come from? I sigh. He’s always been here. Nick and I always tease each other. Only now, he has the upper hand. I want that crop. I want to feel it so damn bad, I cave in.
“Just a few more? Please. Not harder, though.”
“Done.” He winks at me, stands, and I hear the swish of the crop as he tests the swing. “I think thirty percent of my max should do it.”
“Whatever. Recalibrate away.”
I suck in through my mouth, blink beneath the cushion, and it hits. Oh. Fuck. Just right. The whistle and smack of the crop communicates directly to all the sexual bits and pieces in my body that have never been awakened before. My body sings.
I’m so wet that as I squeal and wriggle; my thighs squish together and smear my moisture on my skin. Oh yes. This is what I wanted.
By the time he stops hitting me, I’m a mess of limp flesh molded across the couch, panting and waiting. Waiting for whatever he wants to do to me.
“Come here.” Nick pulls me to my feet, and the next I’m aware, the vibrator is applied to the rope on my clit.
“Ohh.” I freeze and thrust my thighs forward, contacting that blissful machine. Where it presses on the hard rope, it jiggles in a wonderful way and sends me straight into heaven. Swelling with heat, my clit pulses in time with my ass that burns from the application of the crop.
“Oh my God. Nick!”
“Yeah?”
He’s there, watching, but I can’t focus. I gape. The pressure builds to hurricane force in seconds, whirling tight, scrunching down.
He pulls away the vibrator.
“Noo! Put it back!” I gasp and wiggle, but he’s holding me around the waist.
“Say you want me to fuck you.”
“What?” He’s teasing me now. I’m so killing him…later. “Put it back!” I glare.
His lips curve—he knows he has the power. “Say it.”
The vibrator is still humming to itself.
“Please.” I raise my eyebrows, squeeze my thighs together onto the ache. He waits. “Okay! Please fuck me. After you put it back!”
“Good.”
The Throbbinator returns—precisely where I want it, and it jiggles my clit, my whole body, straight back into that amazing tumult. The burn on my backside merges into the vibrations. I arch and stiffen, then moan as the orgasm breaks, shatters, and roars through me, devastating everything in its path.
For infinite seconds, nothing exists but pleasure…nothing at all.
Nick holds me and kisses my neck until I sag into his arms, spent, wrung of all energy. He breathes there, into the angle of my neck, waiting with me for my body to come back to planet Earth.
I raise my head and slowly blink at him.
“Now I’ll fuck you.” He makes sure I’m standing by myself; then he undresses quickly—nearly ripping his clothes off—grabs a condom, and fits it over his cock.
Then he steers me back over the couch arm. I nestle into the leather. For a while, Nick caresses my breasts until I’m about ready to hump the couch. After he slides the rope to the side, he puts his finger on my cleft. The knowledge that it’s only a few inches to go and my clit might be touched makes me so aware of everything he does. Blood throbs through the nub of flesh. He doodles his finger up and down, teasing my entrance. I bow my back, wanting, needing, as he ever so slowly slides that finger up into my tunnel.
“I can’t believe how wet you get now. Wish we’d tried this years ago.” His voice rumbles—male, low, and so sexy. His knees brush the backs of mine. His finger pumps into me. Slip. Slide. Slip. Slide. I fall into a surreal state, floating in bliss. “You were never”—he spears all the way in—“like this.”
I grunt, and my walls spasm onto him. Is it weird that I feel a glow of pride that Nick can do this to me? I can’t help whispering, “See. Told you so.”
He pauses. “I heard that!”
A pinch on my inner thigh shocks me into squealing, but then I’m back to wriggling against his other fingers. “It’s true,” I choke out.
“Shh!” He removes his finger. The smack on my butt hits a second before he slowly pushes his cock inside. There’s that awesome moment as the head breaches my tight entrance, and then he goes in farther, stretching me. I’m full to the very top, and he’s deeper than I thought possible. I arch my butt. I’m pinned there—my fingers touch the hair on his chest, feel his heartbeat. The warm fire simmering in my butt shimmies at the brush of his skin on mine.
Keeping one hand on my breast, with his thumb cruising around on my nipple, Nick withdraws; then he enters me again. Mouth closed, I let out a small moan of appreciation.
There’s something about having an orgasm and then having Nick inside me that is incredible. I worm my ass even higher. He waits a moment, squeezing my ass cheek and my breast, tugging at my nipple. He rests his chest on my back, squashing my bound wrists down, bringing our bodies clo
se—so close I barely comprehend where he and I begin and end. Then he thrusts in with little hard slams. Over and over.
“Oh.” I bend my neck up too and feel him bite me, feel him fasten his teeth there in my neck as he rocks his cock in and out.
The rhythm strengthens, the size of his cock seems to grow, the pressure and the power of his thrusts push me into the leather and rub the rope on my clit. I feel the rope toggle with the movement on top of me. My lips open wide, and I huff into the cushion. With one last powerful drive, Nick penetrates me and stops.
His strong body melds to mine as he comes. I strive back against him, wanting that connection.
He is in me, and I am a part of him. No fear. No past. Only Nick and Sid. Only this moment. And God, I want it to last forever.
A Note from the Real Sidney
Cari and Leia gave me a copy of the manuscript of 31 Flavors of Kink to read and approve before publication. I had gotten to about the halfway point when this conversation happened between me and “Nick.” I wanted to have sex, but he was tired from a long day at work. He knew I was disappointed.
He told me, “I like adding BDSM to our sex life. It’s a lot of fun.”
The funny thing was, I had just read the part of the book where he said something similar, but also added it was too much work. So even though I panicked a bit about what he might say next, I also got really excited that we were kind of, in a way, living the book real time.
I said, “But what?”
He looked at me funny. “But nothing. I have nothing else to say. That was it.”
I persisted because it sounded like he had something else to say. “No. You were going to say, ‘I like BDSM but…’”
“No but.”
“Yes but.”
He squeezed my hand and said, “Really. There was no ‘but.’ I like BDSM, and that’s that.”
Even though the crop and the necklace is written as the turning point in the book, I feel like this conversation is the true happy ending.
Authors’ Note
For those readers who are curious, yes, much of this story is true. The sex scenes are fictionalized to a large degree. Sidney did have her first orgasm after trying bondage and spanking with her husband, her first G-spot orgasm in the same way as in the book, and the Shibari scene is also based on fact. Though Cari made up the restaurant scene, since reading it, Sidney has intentions of making it come true. She now regularly has multiple orgasms, and we want some too!
Her past is also substantially correct, including the rape as a teenager. Some of the romantic facts are also true. Her husband did fill the first story of their house with balloons, and he did buy her a BDSM implement to show his love. Many of the trials of their relationship and mishaps involving BDSM are from real life as well.
Leia and Cari wish to emphasize, however, that as the title suggests, everyone is different. Don’t take this book as a blueprint for yourself. Make your own way in life. Don’t be discouraged by naysayers from a path that you believe is the right one for you. Do no harm to others in your pursuit of happiness. Safe, sane, and consensual, as always.
Loose Id Titles by Leia Shaw & Cari Silverwood
31 Flavors of Kink
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Loose Id Titles by Cari Silverwood
Three Days of Dominance
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The STEAMWORK CHRONICLES Series
Iron Dominance
Lust Plague
Leia Shaw
I began my writing journey while I was stranded at the airport waiting for my delayed flight. I browsed the Border’s kiosk and grew frustrated that I couldn’t find the “it factor”—the perfect combination of alpha male-ness, ass-kickery, strong females, magic, and sex.
So I spent the next four hours on an airplane writing my first book on scraps of paper and an airsick bag (which thankfully I didn't need to use).
Now I spend too much time in my head, plotting evil villains and the hot men (and women) who ruthlessly kill them. I think far too much about fae politics, dragon power games, and how fast werewolves can change forms. But writing my paranormal romance series has given me a productive place to express those dark places in my mind.
I live in New England with my husband and two kids. Though I will go to my grave denying it, my husband insists I would be thrilled if he suddenly sprouted fangs.
Find out more at http://leiashaw.com.
Cari Silverwood
Though I’d much rather stay invisible and spin you all tales with my words, here’s a little snippet of my world.
I have a lovely family here in Australia, with the prerequisite teenager who dwells in the dark bedroom catacombs, a husband who raises eyebrows when he catches glimpses of what I write, and a furry menagerie of animals barking, meowing, and swimming about the place.
Before writing Three Days of Dominance I had never dipped my little toes in the hot and lust-swirled sea of erotica. Now every time I turn around, there’s some new character making me write down their story in the most lurid way. My people are quite adamant about explaining creative new ways of making love, so I doubt I’ll run out of ideas anytime soon, though I may go cross-eyed.
And, dammit, I can’t seem to stop reading other erotica authors either. I have come over to the dark side. Someone please find me a candle...and some rope. ’Cause if Darth Vader’s here, I’m going to see if he’s up for some bondage and wax play.
Main Web site: http://www.carisilverwood.net
Blog: http://somewriteithot2.blogspot.com