Her hips started to rise, but she regained control.
Circle the outside of her cunt. Plunge in hard and hear her strained inhalation. Feel her thigh muscles grow tighter. See the shininess appear on her upper lip as she breaks into a sweat. Holding his fingers deep inside her, he growled, “Don’t move, girl.”
At the hard order, her cunt clenched around him, and he grinned. Goddamn, he loved playing with submissives. Propped on an elbow, he reached up and grabbed a nipple, pinching hard, rolling hard, hearing her almost silent whine. With his arm resting on her soft stomach, he licked over her clit again and felt her begin to quiver.
Would she be able to maintain when he got her off? He looked up. The coasters perched on her knees were shaking with her tiny movements. Nope.
Abandoning her breast, he thrust in and out of her pussy. Two fingers, then three, then one, then three. Her clit was so engorged it strained up toward his flicking tongue.
He backed off, lifted his head, and removed his fingers.
Yep, that was a definite whine, no matter how soft. Her jaw was clenched. She held herself rigid as her arousal faded.
He waited…waited…then licked hard over her clit, over and over, bringing her back up. Very, very slowly, he slid his fingers back into her cunt. Her panting had changed to gasps. Goddamn, this was fun.
Her face was flushed, and he regretted not being able to watch her eyes. But she needed to work through some of the lingering triggers left by the slavers. He’d take his time, not push her too fast, but eventually, she’d be clear of their crap.
He gave her clit a break as he curved his fingers to find her G-spot. Ah, not far inside the entrance, and roughed up with plumpness. She didn’t react with his first rub or the second, so he increased the pressure, massaging firmly, and her cunt jerked tightly around him as if startled awake.
He kept stroking, added small licks at erratic intervals to her clit, and heard her breathing turn erratic as well.
Close. Very close. Time for a break. He stopped everything and pulled his fingers out. Her frustration built visibly as he counted her breaths. One…five…fifteen. On twenty, he rammed two fingers in, rubbing her G-spot hard and fast.
Her back arched, and she let out a squeak before smothering it. A coaster wobbled and slid off her knee, hitting the quilt with a soft thump. Her whimper held both despair…and anticipation.
Satisfaction sizzled through him. The little masochist wanted to know what his whip felt like, and he was definitely of a mind to show her. “Damn, missy, looks like you get that pussy flogged.”
He set the coaster back on her knee. “Keep still and I’ll give you only five. Lose another coaster, it’ll be more.” The husky sound of her fear did his sadist’s heart good. He took the miniflogger from the crate and gave her pussy a light flick.
Both coasters fell off.
THE EXQUISITE AGONY burst over her like a wave of flames. Oh my God. Linda shook, unsure when the pain had turned to pleasure—unsure if it had. She realized her knees were clamped together, and she’d also uncovered her eyes. Gasping for air, she stared up at Sam.
He was grinning, an evil grin that let her know he wasn’t about to stop. And his enjoyment was horribly erotic.
But if he hit her with that thing again, she’d die.
He studied her for a minute, then shook his head. “A bit too much for you just yet.” He pulled something else out of the crate. “I’ll use this instead. Since you got more than five coming.”
The whimper that escaped her was humiliating. The crease in his cheek deepened.
He held a narrow rectangle of reinforced leather. She started to panic at how much it looked like a belt, but then realized it seemed to have the thickness and texture of a tripled piece of suede. Soft?
“Legs open, girl.”
Dear sweet heaven. It took an effort to open herself back up and rest her knees on the thick pillows.
He bent and ran his fingers over her pussy, making her wiggle. “Not too bad. You’re just pink.”
Oh well, that’s nice. Although she bit back the words, the sun lines at the corners of his eyes deepened.
He straightened, and then the suede slashed down, hitting her left labia. The blast of sensation made her gasp, then moan as it flared into bliss.
“Better.” He watched her for a second, and she could feel sweat on her neck. Everything inside her tightened as he forced her to wait.
He let fly with five more swats, alternating to the right and left of her clit, the last landing directly on top.
The world flashed red as shocking, thick pleasure scalded her whole pussy. “Aaah!” Her clit seemed to expand as the pressure boiled higher and higher.
Shoving her legs open with his feet—when had she moved them?—he whipped the strap against her right inner thigh, then her left, hard enough that the burn shook her.
Before she could move, he went down on one knee. Using his fingers, he scissored her labia open, and with his hand, he administered three more stinging swats directly to her clit.
Everything inside her surged upward, the pain knotting into hard pleasure, shoving her so, so close. Tears streamed from her eyes, and she hurt, and it was wonderful, but she couldn’t…couldn’t get there.
He didn’t move, studying her face, her clenched hands, her breathing. His satisfaction with her response was obvious.
“Please,” she whispered, hating herself. Needing more. Hating that she couldn’t keep the word back.
His brows drew together, and his warm, calloused hands massaged her thighs. Gently. “Linda, don’t be ashamed to ask your Dom to let you come. It’s what he wants.” His deep, focused eyes met hers, held hers. His voice was rough with the truth he wanted her to absorb.
Then he bent his head and closed his mouth over her clit. His tongue, hot and flat, rubbed over the still-stinging flesh, and the feeling was indescribable as everything inside her tightened. Tightened again.
With a rumble of enjoyment, he closed his lips around her and sucked hard, hard, hard, even as he plunged two fingers inside her. One thrust, two.
Her breathing halted completely as the avalanche struck. Unstoppable, it ripped everything free, hit bottom, and exploded into brilliance. Ecstasy tore upward through her, and electricity sheeted across every brain cell she owned.
My sweet heavens. She hauled in a shaky breath. Even as her body jerked with tiny aftershocks, he rubbed his cock against her entrance…and pressed in. He was much thicker than his fingers, and her labia were so swollen that the sliding scrape of his entry sent her into a long, rolling orgasm again.
His laugh was deep, more gravelly than normal, and his eyes gleamed into hers. “I’m going to take you hard, girl. Are you ready?”
She nodded. Braced on one hand, he captured her wrists with the other and set them above her head. Again. Her shoulders twinged, not in a good way. Getting decrepit, Linda.
After studying her for a long moment, he pulled her arms down. “This time, keep your arms around me.”
She couldn’t ask for anything finer than being allowed to touch him. As her palms traced out the hills and valleys of his hard back muscles, the knowledge of his strength made her bones go soft.
He started slowly, pulling almost all the way out before slamming into her. The shock wave set off little convulsions again. As he went faster, his face grew tighter and the cords stood out on his neck.
His gaze met hers, his eyes hot. “More.” Bracing himself on one arm, he put his elbow under her knee and lifted her leg up. The next thrust was far deeper.
As he hammered into her, the erotically satisfying feeling of being positioned for his use swept through her. Take me as you want.
He rested his forehead against hers, his body stiffened with release, and his groan was low and rumbling and beautiful.
She pulled him closer, cherishing the knowledge of pleasing him. She wanted to give him everything. Her eyes closed for a moment. God, God, she shouldn’t—couldn’t—fall for this man.
He released her leg and gathered her close, cuddling her to him in that disconcertingly tender way he had. When he rubbed his cheek against hers, his face softer than she’d ever seen it, she knew she was in trouble.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, Sam wakened to the sound of a woman singing. Ice circled his spine, and his jaws clenched so tightly his teeth ground together. Nancy. How had she gotten in?
He rolled out of bed, his feet hitting the floor with a thump. In the bathroom. He yanked open the door. “How the hell did you get—”
By the counter, the naked woman spun, turned white, and backed up until she hit the wall. One hand clutched a towel to her chest. Big brown eyes, red hair.
He’d just scared the crap out of Linda.
Wake up, Davies, you idiot. He sagged against the door frame. “Hell. Sorry.”
As color returned to her face, she wrapped the dark blue bath towel around her. “What was that all about?” Soft voice. Firm. Expecting an answer. There was a downside to involvement with an intelligent, older woman.
“I woke up and heard singing.” He stopped. There was no way to explain.
“You don’t like the blues?”
“Thought you were someone else.” He couldn’t go further.
Her mouth opened in a silent oh. “Your ex-wife.” After securing her towel more firmly, she moved closer and rested her hand on his chest. Brave woman—her breathing was still fast. He’d scared her badly. “She liked to sing?”
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