by West, Jade
My eyes were closed when I felt him step in beside me. My breath hitched as his chest pressed tight to my back, his arms snaking round to grip my waist and hold me firm.
His mouth pressed to the nape of my neck, his lips against wet hair as the cascade kept on coming, and I couldn’t hold it back, my gasp was everything as I pushed back for more, my body straining for greater contact with every scrap of want inside me.
His fingers trailed up my ribs, between my bruised breasts to glide across my collar bone and clear the hair from my neck.
“Tonight is going to be quite a show,” he told me. “I hope you’re ready.”
My nod made his lips tickle my skin. “Yes, sir. I’m ready, sir.”
The swell of him was tight between my ass cheeks, compelling enough that I clenched my thighs on repeat just to feel the spark.
“Be careful,” he said. “Ask for my touch too early and you’ll regret it later when exhaustion hits.”
But I’d never regret it later. I’d never regret asking for his touch, no matter how savage that touch may be when it came.
“Please,” I whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the water. “Please, sir.”
He didn’t take time to consider my request. He spun me in a beat, tipping my chin up to his sharp enough that my heart jumped in my chest.
It was his eyes. The want in them reflecting right back at me. Not just cold and calculated, but brimming with rawness underneath. Brimming with more than the hardness of wanting to consume my body and own it with his.
I didn’t dare draw any conclusions of what I saw reflected right back at me in that moment. I didn’t dare swim away with my own fairytale ideals of what it would look like for a dark knight like him to fall for a girl like me.
“No cameras here,” he said. “I’m surprised at your desire for the unpaid overtime.”
“No cameras,” I mirrored. “Just you.”
“And that’s what you want, little girl?”
My nod came easily. “Just you, sir. Just you and me.”
I was hoping he’d be grabbing me hard and making me take my fill when he leaned in close and reached behind me, but instead he took hold of a shampoo bottle.
His fingers were amazing on my scalp, his hard on digging into my belly as he lathered me up. He was surprisingly gentle as he teased the foam through to the ends, careful to cover every strand before pushing my head back under the flow to rinse me clean.
He didn’t stop there. He was incredible as he worked soapy bodywash all over my skin. He dropped to his knees to ensure my legs were covered well, then pressed his nose to the tenderness between my legs before running his tongue right across the sweet spot.
I couldn’t hold back from reaching down and running my fingers in his hair, holding him closer than I should have ever dared as he continued his efforts.
“Are you sore, sweetheart?” he asked, and I felt his eyes on my face as I nodded. “Should I stop until the cameras call for action?”
“No,” I said. “Please, sir. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
My legs were weak as he pushed two fingers in deep, but I loved it. I loved it enough that I moaned like the wanton slut he was turning me into.
I don’t know how I kept my footing as he hooked the pressure on the perfect spot inside and paired it up with his perfect mouth on my clit. I don’t know how I avoided tumbling flat onto my back and begging for more as he pushed me harder, spread me wider, teased me in ways I’d never been teased before as my fingers kept hold of his scalp.
And then he made it hurt.
His free hand wrapped around to grip hard on my bruised ass cheek, digging into the soreness like a glorious beacon in the thrum.
“Yes…” I breathed. “Yes, please…”
“You’re the most innocent little deviant I’ve ever known,” he grunted, and I couldn’t hold back the grin.
“A paradox,” I told him. “A strange little paradox in a world so concerned with ticks in the boxes…”
I’d never shared my weird little self-assessments with anyone before. My mask well placed and my smile bland and eager to every onlooker within viewing distance.
But not with him.
With him I wanted to be myself, nearly as much as I wanted to know him as him. No mask, no tick boxes. Nothing but soul to soul.
Only he was buying mine, using mine.
Hell, one day in the not too distant future, he’d surely own mine for keeps.
The thought gave me shudders on top of shudders.
One day he’d surely own mine. All in. My soul for keeps.
Forever.
“What?” he said and pulled his mouth away. “What are you thinking, sweet Miss Emmerson?”
I had no answer, just a smile. A smile and a tighter grip on his hair.
“Please more,” I mumbled. “Please more, sir.”
“You really are a strange little paradox,” he said. “No wonder the world is going crazy over such a little wonder in the madness.”
I didn’t understand it. The world going crazy.
I didn’t understand anything more than the way his tongue resumed its amazing dance with my needy clit.
I didn’t understand anything more than the way my body cried out for his to be inside me.
“Please,” I mumbled on. “Please more, sir. I need to feel you, sir.”
His voice was thick and edged with the darkness I was coming to love so much.
“You want my cock in that pretty little cunt of yours?” he pushed. “You want that pounded little pussy stretched open fucking wide?”
“Please…” I managed, bucking against his fingers.
“Then fucking say it,” he grunted.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t say it. The thought of uttering those filthy words to a filthy god like the one before me was too much want for my body to take.
I came hard enough to hiss and groan like a whore going mad, lost to everything but the sensation of his perfect touch against my hungry flesh.
I groaned harder as he landed a slap against my pulsing clit, but he was smiling, not angry when my eyes shot down at his.
He got to his feet slowly, his cock in his grip as he shook his head at me.
“Good girls don’t ever come without permission,” he told me, and my cheeks burned hot, even in the shower steam.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I said. “I couldn’t stop…”
“Just as well I can then, isn’t it?” he asked, and reached behind me to turn off the water. “Call it the punishment of denial.”
I stood open mouthed as he stepped out of the shower and hid his dick underneath a low slung towel.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” he said and held out his hand for mine. “The world is waiting.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brandon
She looked incredible in white lace – the perfect representation of the innocent little deviant within her soul.
Beautiful Miss Emmerson was intoxicatingly nervous as she did me a twirl in the long satin slip. The back was low. Low enough to reveal her previous whip stripes in their dark brilliance across her skin. It was delicious. Enough to set my dick pulsing.
More than that she was beautiful enough that my throat tightened.
Affection.
This really was fucking affection.
If I truly thought love existed, then I’m sure the girl had snared it within my darkness.
“Will I look ok for the cameras?” she asked, and I tipped my head.
“You look glorious. The viewers will lap you up and beg for more.”
She dared to follow up the question. “And you? Do I look ok for you, sir?”
I’d lost track of her manners when it came to my titles. Sir. Master. None of it mattered anymore, which was alien enough in itself that I should have drawn a line under the whole sorry affair and taken off to a beach somewhere to get my fucking act together.
This girl — this ensnaring littl
e siren in the moonlit countryside — was in my veins deep enough to immunise her against slave girl necessities.
Still, I wasn’t going to tell her that. I would take my pleasure in pushing her to her limits this evening, making her beg, making her submit with her whole fucking soul.
And after that?
I fixed my cufflinks and pushed the thought aside.
She halted her twirl, her eyes searching mine. “Please, sir, I hope I look good enough.”
“You look fine,” I told her, then stepped close enough to push some hair back behind her ear. “Fine is bullshit, little girl. You look beautiful.”
Her eyes widened.
Beautiful. I registered I’d used the extravagant term too late to change it. My eyes burned hard back at hers as I faced the inevitable.
I carried on speaking before she could find any words. “You are a wonderful little creature, Miss Emmerson. You were quite a find under the pier that evening.”
Her cheeks were burning pink. Her mouth was nervous as she sucked her bottom lip tight between her teeth.
She’d have said something equally extravagant to match if I’d have allowed her the time, and I knew it. I didn’t give her the chance, just pulled on my finest evening jacket and gestured her to the bedroom door.
She took a deep breath before we stepped out onto the landing. “So many nerves,” she said. “I wonder if I’ll still be having them further down the line.”
I didn’t comment.
The landing felt quite a walkway with such a woman in white at my side. The door into the webcam den creaked on its hinges. I held it wide enough that she stepped on in and surveyed the setup.
Tonight I’d pulled the bed into the central space with shackles ready and waiting from all four bedposts. The sheets were black satin at odds with her white. The binds were thick black leather to complete the contrast.
I was going to enjoy myself here, cameras be fucked.
“On the bed,” I told her, and she nodded before climbing up. She put herself in the position I’d taught her on night one, kneeling just right with her thighs spread nice and wide. Her hands linked behind her neck and her eyes focused down low, head bowed.
I’d given her no underwear. No barriers to my touch beneath the lace. No barriers to anything I had planned for her.
The pain. The wails. The pleasure.
The girl gone mad.
I wasted no time in getting the cameras fired up for action, giving the viewers ample sight of her in her submissive stance before I appeared in shot. Tonight I didn’t bother addressing any of them. My attention was all on Paige and her shuddering body as she waited for my closeness.
Her shoulders goose pimpled as I made my presence palpable at her side. The bumps trailed over her arms and my fingers followed, gliding across her limbs softly until I came to grip her wrists tight.
She moved to my instruction, falling forward easily enough as I buckled her in tight to the shackles on her wrists and ankles. I forced her thighs spread wide, the stretch of the white lace delicious as it covered her perfect little ass.
“Pleasure and pain will be a heady mixture for you this evening,” I told her. “I’ll be sure to give you both in equal measure if you’re a good little girl.”
“I’ll be a good girl for you, master,” she said, and her voice was throaty. “I promise I’ll be good for you. Always.”
She jolted forward as I landed a hearty slap on her bruised ass cheek through the satin. “That’s a generous promise,” I said. “A generous promise for someone whose body might well run away with them on the betrayal score.”
“Never,” she said. “I’ll take what I’m given, sir.”
If only she knew that I was about to take everything I wanted from her flesh. Enough to last a lifetime in memories. My cock was already so hard for her.
I chose a thick leather strap for the first bout of punishment, trailing the edge down her naked spine. She shivered so nicely at its touch. “Count,” I told her, and she nodded.
“Yes, master.”
The gentle slap of leather against her shoulder blades and the gasp from her was enough to make my pulse race.
“One, sir.”
Two, three and four landed quickly. Quickly enough that her voice was a tremor as she counted the strokes.
I hitched the slip up around her hips, fully appreciating the hungry pussy clenching between her well-marked thighs. I ran my fingers across those puffy lips, and she moaned and moved for more, hitching to take me inside her.
I didn’t give her what she craved, landing a few slaps on her inner thighs, this time hard enough that she bucked and whimpered.
She was wet. Her thighs were already clammy with need. Her whole body was tense as I rained heavy slaps all over her sweet ass. She swayed back and forth as I landed a particularly savage smack on an ass bruise, her breaths frantic as she struggled for composure. But I didn’t want composure.
“Take it like a good girl,” I grunted and kept the brutality flowing.
Her whimpers were music against the beat of the blows. Her back arched as her ass tightened against the pain.
And then I gave her the fingers she’d been straining for. Three pushed in to the hilt, circling wide, stretching and delving deep, my cock throbbing hard in my pants, desperate to take their place.
The sounds from that slick little cunt were enough to make my mouth water. I leant down far enough to sink my teeth into her ass cheek and I sucked hard.
I’d mark her with a whole new set of bruises before the night was done. Signature bruises to bring joy to my taste buds. Signature bruises to mark her body with enough of me to drive her crazy when she eyed her mirror reflection.
“Yes!” she hissed. “Yes, please, sir! Yes, please!”
I knew it then. I knew it in her tone. In her shivers. In the way she twisted her head for the chance to see my savagery.
If there was such a thing as loving one gorgeous little minx when it came to a steel soul like mine, this would be it. This would be the girl to snare me deep and keep me fascinated. This would be the girl whose innocence would shift my darkness just enough to raise her up on a pedestal of adoration for years to come. Adoration and glorious filth plaited tight.
Yet still that wouldn’t be enough.
Not enough to make me a good enough man in this world for sweet Paige Emmerson.
“Please, sir!” she cried out again. “Please, more…”
My next love bite was on her inner thigh. Her flesh was soft. Tender. Perfect for my mouth. My nose was pressed tight to her glistening slit, the dampness tinging my breath with the most glorious scent of her. And I loved it.
Fuck, how I loved it.
Fuck, how I loved her.
My personal fascination was too strong to stay composed for the cameras. The viewers meant nothing as my hands took on a life of their own, for one purpose only.
To touch.
To feel.
To stroke that beautiful creature and commit her flesh to the memory of mine for all time.
I kissed my way from her freshly bitten thigh to her hungry slit, then further. I parted her ass cheeks and squirmed my tongue into that tight little puckered hole. Oh, she was clenched so fucking tight with her nerves. Forcing her wide made me smile against her flesh.
And she liked it. She fucking liked my tongue squirming deep.
“Sir,” she hissed. “Master, yes, please! Yes, please!”
I gripped her at the hips, pulling her tighter to my mouth, and I sucked on her sweet asshole with everything, every scrap of passion I knew I owned.
I ran my tongue along the full cleft of her, lapping at her privacy like a man possessed.
“Yes, master! Oh, God, that feels so good!”
She cried out to a different tune when I dug my teeth into her rump for a fresh new love bite. Her shivers gave me echoing shudders, my whole body alive with hers.
Watching my thumb sink into her asshole was a treasure I soa
ked up with eager eyes. I spat on the spectacle — creating enough lube to slide in two fingers, then three, cursing the fact I didn’t have an ocean of time to push that tight little hole to its true limits.
“That feels so dirty, sir,” she breathed. “I love it. I love it, sir…”
I slapped her as much for praise as for punishment, and her murmurs and moans kept on coming.
The shackles rattled and she squirmed in her bonds as I twisted those fingers deep and slapped her ass hard again and again. Her voice was a tremble as I pushed her body to the edges of subspace with the brutality.
And my teeth. How I used them. How I sucked. How I nipped. How I pushed that flesh to its limits.
I tore the gorgeous lace from her and climbed her body inch by inch. Touching, teasing, tasting… hurting. Her spine was a groove I slalomed, back and forth from side to side. Her ribs were delicious in their sensitivity, her skin tight and taut over the ridges. Her shoulder blades were tense enough that my teeth struggled to take a grip, her groans wild as I managed to suck her raw.
Then her neck. Her beautiful tapered neck under a side sweep of elfin locks. Begging for kisses. Begging for nips. Begging for my breath against clammy skin as I moved my way up to her earlobe.
“You’re a fucking treasure,” I whispered. “You’re a delicious little fucking treasure just ripe to be used.”
“Then use me,” she whispered back. “Please, master, use me. Take me however you want…”
So I did.
I took her however I wanted. I took her hair in my grip and yanked her head back hard. I slammed her flat against the mattress and wrapped my fingers around that perfect throat. And I fucked her.
Somehow I managed to set my pulsing cock free from my suit trousers and I fucked her.
Deep. Raw. Savage as all sin as I took that fragile, hurt little body with mine.
I consumed her. Slammed her hard with every filthy thrust. Ate her up as she struggled to take me, straining against bonds stretched tight.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I hissed into her ear. “Enough to drive me fucking wild, little girl.”
“Paige,” she hissed. “Please, master, call me Paige. I want it to be us. You and me. I want to be me… I really want to be me…”