Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
The first press of her lips to my erection sends me shuddering.
“I’ll have to whip you more often,” I say. She moans and takes me into her throat, either to placate me so I don’t punish her or encourage me to whip her harder. Probably both. The submissive and the masochist, holding hands and skipping along in her psyche.
I let her do the work until my balls tingle and I have to take over. I pull out and order her to breathe. She gulps air like she’s going to dive deep.
I’ll have to take her in the pool again. The breath play we experimented with there was fun.
Although there are ways to do breath play on land. St. James once mummified a partner in plastic wrap. He covered their nostrils so the only way they could breathe was through a straw in their mouth. And then he would cover the straw and watch the panic rise in their eyes.
Thinking about Sebastian is a boner killer, so I turn my attention back to my little bird—tied up tight, on her knees, working to please me.
She swallows me down again, and my control snaps. I fuck her face with abandon, driving my dick into her hot little mouth. I’m lightheaded, a man possessed, and my orgasm blows up from the base of my spine. I erupt into her mouth, bowing over her head as I pump into her.
When I pull back, her hair’s mussed and her lips are puffy from the abuse, but she looks peaceful. She opens her mouth to show me my gift, and gods, if that doesn’t make my cock jump like it’s ready to come again.
“Swallow,” I order her, and after she does, she opens her mouth to show me it’s gone. I stroke her face to reward her.
“You did so good for me. Just a little more punishment, and then it’s over.”
I release her arms and check her over. More water, more caresses. Her skin is sensitive from the impact play, so I soothe the soft welts the whip made and then scratch them lightly to make her squirm. The marks are proof of my power over her, and I’m going to enjoy them.
All the boundaries between us are gone. There’s nothing but us. “I’m going to make you feel your love for me. Write it on your skin.” Pain is a brand that proves I own her fully.
“Yes, sir. Please.”
“This won’t be easy,” I warn.
She smiles and keeps smiling as I use her braided hair like a leash to guide her to crawl to the cross. I allow her to stand on her own to tie her to it, secure her arms overhead, and tuck her braid out of the way, leaving her back as a bare canvas for me to paint.
She’s standing on blocks so she’s the right height for me to fuck her from behind. Her body is at an angle, too, her ass sticking out so I can see her puffy pussy, beckoning me.
“Soon,” I say and stroke her lower lips in promise. Inara sighs and presses her torso into the cross, even though it must be painful. Goosebumps rise on her back.
It feels right to be back where we started—her tied to the cross and me drinking in her lovely form, reveling in her submission.
So much has changed. So much is still the same.
“I’m going to love you now,” I say, stroking her bottom. She arches further to press her buttock into my palm. Her skin has a rosy glow, ready for welts and cane stripes.
“But first. . . tell me this. Who owns you?”
“You do,” she sighs. “You do, my king.”
Inara
* * *
I lose myself in the rollercoaster, the highs and lows the pain brings. The pride and excitement that I’ve reached a deeper level of submission.
I want to be perfect and pleasing to him. The thought that I can serve him so fully fills me with warmth. I want to be put through my paces, made to writhe and cry out and surrender. I want to be brought low by his dominance until my whole self is obliterated. There will be no Inara and no Rex, either. We’ve become something else, something more. A push and pull, a giving and receiving. An inhale and exhale. Pain and bliss in one perfect body.
He lays love on my skin. Each lash becomes a caress. Each welt is the result of the most intense, all-consuming kiss. It’s the most extreme proof of connection. I feel so close to Rex. So loved. The feeling sends me flying high. I’m no longer myself. I have no identity. I’m free, made new. I’m his, and he is mine.
And we are one.
It’s heaven, and it’s hell. Or it’s all hell, but it’s a wonderful place. With Rex, I can descend into the darkest places of need. My shadow self that craves the lowest places. He breaks me down so beautifully, and I trust him. Gods help me, but I trust him to walk through the darkness with me.