A Price to Pay

by Alice Raine

  My head fell backwards, my eyes rolling closed as Oliver’s skilled tongue lashed at my skin and whipped me into a frenzy so quickly that I felt instantly dizzy. He was alternating between sucking on my clit and hard, long licks through my sensitive flesh, knowing just what my body needed to send me spinning towards a speedy orgasm.

  ‘Oliver, Sir… I’m so close.’

  Oliver gave one more suck to my clit, then began to rise. I let out a moan of desperation as my orgasm swirled on the cusp but hovered just out of reach. He silenced my plea by trailing kisses across my body as he rose, before finally standing before me and staring me straight in the eye as he picked up the flogger from the table beside me.

  ‘I know you are, but I wish for you to indulge me for a few more minutes.’

  I could argue, desperately try to plead my case, or perhaps just lower my hands and finish myself off, but I wouldn’t. I would never go against Oliver when he was as in the zone as he currently was, and so, with a breath for composure, I nodded slightly.

  ‘Whatever you wish, Sir.’

  Oliver smiled at my reply and trailed the strands of the flogger across my thighs. ‘So fucking perfect in your submission.’ He raised the flogger and lazily draped it over one of my shoulders, then slowly across the other, the cool tickle of the strands sending goose pimples rushing across my skin.

  Standing back from me, he tucked the flogger into the belt of his trousers and took his time unbuttoning his shirt sleeves. I knew what was coming next – it was one of his custom moves and I bloody loved it; before a scene he would always undo the sleeves of his shirt and roll them up to expose his lovely muscled forearms. It was his way of adding to the anticipation and drawing things out a little, and as I watched him form each perfect chunk in the cotton, my clit pulsed as my arousal mounted.

  Oliver’s eyes remained glued with mine. Once he was satisfied that his shirt looked perfect he gave a single nod and walked over to the couch in the corner to retrieve the blanket that hung over it.

  He spread the blanket on the table behind me then moved in close to place a kiss on my temple. His lips hovered by my skin, and I couldn’t resist leaning in for more, a move that was rewarded by Oliver tipping my head back and placing a lingering kiss on my lips. ‘Lay back, cariño. Show me that beautiful body.’

  I lowered myself back onto the soft blanket and tried to imagine how Oliver might like me to position myself. Laying my arms loosely by my sides, I parted my legs slightly and then let my head tilt to the side to look at him. I was sprawled across the fancy dining table like a hooker in my leather boots and suspender belt, so I felt a little self-conscious, but the low lighting helped relax me, as did the appreciative heat in Oliver’s eyes as he ran his gaze up my body.

  ‘Now just lie still and enjoy,’ he murmured, moving towards the end of the table where my feet were, trailing the strands of the flogger across my body as he did so. Every inch of my skin was caressed with the leather as he dragged it over me, and the soft movements were lulling, making my limbs and eyes feel heavy.

  ‘Leather on leather,’ Oliver murmured with appreciation as he gave several swats to my boot-clad calves. I’d thought that my boots might dull the sensation of the flogger, and they did to some extent, but I could still feel each stroke, and the cracking noise created as the two leather surfaces met was quite a turn-on in itself – I could see why he’d wanted to try it.

  The first slightly harder swat came to the inside of my thigh. After the previously gentle touches, it was shocking enough that I let out a yelp and jerked my leg. The warmth of Oliver’s palm encircled my knee and pressed it back to the table, and when I raised my head and looked down at him I saw a warning expression on his face.

  ‘Lay still, remember?’ he reminded me softly, but the lowering of his tone was commanding enough that I knew it wasn’t a request – he had asked me not to move, and he expected me to comply, otherwise there would be consequences.

  ‘Sorry, Sir,’ I apologised croakily, my throat dry from the intensity of the scene.

  Oliver remained silent but nodded in acceptance and then gave my thigh a harder swat again. This time I was prepared for the slight sting from the leather and managed to stay still. He began moving around my body, swatting at me with deft flicks of his wrist until my skin felt heated and over-sensitised.

  Every touch sent a flicker of pain through me but also sent my arousal soaring, and as the minutes passed my body started to feel like it was deliciously alight with awareness. It was an addictive high, and something that I’d never experienced before Oliver. I’d never imagined that a lick of pain could be so thrilling, and yet with him, it was.

  His movement with the flogger was graceful, almost hypnotising as he continued to work my body until I was desperate to writhe around and moan my desperation to come. Oliver must have read the signs in me, just as he often did, because his lips twitched with a smile. ‘You may move, if you need to.’

  My entire body jerked as I released the tension in my muscles and a moan rose from my chest that was so throaty and low I almost felt embarrassed. Oliver let out a small chuckle and watched in anticipation as he moved towards my feet again.

  He laid the flogger across my belly, took hold of my ankles, and ran his hands up and down my leather boots again. He pulled me closer towards him until my knees were bent and hanging over the table edge, and my pulsing core was within touching distance for him.

  Oliver placed his palms on my thighs and took a moment to just look at me. His eyes moved from mine to trail down my body and focus on my pussy before moving back to my face. He had a gigantic hard-on tenting his trousers, and his expression was one of barely controlled lust, and a thrill of excitement ran through me, knowing that I could affect him to this degree.

  He looked like he was desperate to bury himself inside me, but I knew Oliver and his supreme self-control, and he wouldn’t be doing that until he was content that he’d finished the scene he’d had planned.

  He reached for the flogger again and tightened his grip on the handle. I instinctively grabbed a handful of blanket in each hand to help ground me for what was to come. The first sharp flick landed on my right breast, hardening the nipple to an impossibly tight peak before sending a jab of desire shooting to my core. My left breast was next, his touch with the flogger having similarly incredible effects and making me cry out from the pleasure now pulsing around my body.

  He continued to tease my breasts like this for what felt like hours, and then, just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, his palms pressed my thighs wider. ‘Beautiful. So ready for me.’ He hummed in appreciation and started to work my pussy over with the flogger, gently at first, but his swats quickly built in their intensity. As he homed in on my clit and gave several shorter, sharper swats, I knew I was a goner.

  The third hit to my clit sent me rushing over into the climax that I had been longing for all along, and my muscles contracted as my entire back arched away from the table from the intensity of my release. The pulsing bursts of pleasure seemed to go on and on, and it was only when Oliver swapped from the flogger to his thumb and began to gently work me down that my spasms started to slowly fade.

  Ho-ly fuck. So he’d chosen the long drawn-out use of the flogger, then. Not that I could say I minded, because that climax had been so powerful my whole body felt jellified from it.

  Oliver was still standing between my legs, and as I gazed down at him with a contented smile, he lowered his hands and released himself from his trousers. I couldn’t help but stare at his cock, and I bit down on my lower lip to stifle a lusty groan as I watched him palm his solid erection and run a slow drag up his shaft and back down again.

  I might just have climaxed, but God, that was a seriously hot sight, and immediately put me in the mood for round two.

  Oliver didn’t bother to remove any clothing, but as soon as his cock was free and bobbing urgently towards me he gripped my hips and slid me the last few inches down the table where
the broad head of his erection nudged at my entrance, causing us both to groan.

  He ran his hands over my boot-clad calves again with a moan, and then traced the suspender belt with his fingertips. I could see from the twitching muscle in his jaw that his self-control was spent, and as soon as his cock made contact with me he groaned and began pushing inside.

  ‘Wrap your legs around my waist, cariño,’ he urged, but he needn’t have worried, because I was already moving my legs into position as he spoke and locking the heels of the boots behind him.

  Oliver buried his cock inside me inch by glorious inch, in one deep, slow thrust and held us pressed together. He threw his head back, and I could see the tension in his neck as he tried desperately to keep the movement slow for my benefit and not give in to the urge to just smash forwards into me.

  Staring into my eyes, Oliver leaned over me, placed one short, hard kiss on my lips, and began to move. He started off gently, just rolling his hips so that all the right places were rubbing and creating a delicious friction between us. It was so good that if he’d just carried on like that it would have been enough to make me come again, but I could tell from the bristling tension in his shoulders and the intent look in his eyes that Oliver had something a little harder in mind tonight.

  Barely a few seconds after the thought had crossed my mind, he began to move with more purpose, his hips jolting back and forth with harder thrusts that slid me up and down the table with each movement. Luckily, with my legs circled around his waist and his grip on my hips, the towel slipping across the shiny wood didn’t affect our rhythm.

  Oliver upped it another gear, his hips now moving with sharper, harder thrusts that forced his entire length deep inside me on each move. He was so deep it was almost painful, but as always, Oliver seemed to know how much I could take and managed to keep it all just balanced on the pleasurable side of pain. My hands were clawing at his forearms as I tried to move with him and increase the friction, but in this position, it was Oliver who was in control and he didn’t disappoint.

  The sounds of us groaning and panting were joined by the dull creaking of wood as we banged into the table with each of his hard, jabbing thrusts, and the very eroticism of the whole scene sent a fresh wave of lust pouring through my body. I was still so sensitised from my last orgasm that a second one was already rolling up on me.

  ‘You’re close… so am I… Wait for me, Robyn.’ Oliver ground out, his hips losing some of their coordination as he neared his climax.

  I tensed my inner muscles in a desperate attempt to hold back the orgasm that was swelling low in my belly, but just when I thought I wouldn’t be able to comply, Oliver jerked his hips into mine with a deep groan.

  ‘Now… Robyn, come with me.’ He buried himself deep, over and over again, as I started to fall apart around him, my climax shattering me physically and emotionally as I clung to him and tried to cope with the waves of pleasure clenching my muscles.

  Only when I was in the height of my orgasm did Oliver allow himself to let go, too, and he slowed his thrusts as he began flooding my insides with pulse after pulse of his hot release.

  Oliver collapsed forwards onto me, his face buried in the crook of my neck and his warm breaths panting rapidly against me. After taking a moment to compose himself, he stood up and slid me towards him so he could lift me into his arms. He staggered over to the sofa where he collapsed down with me wrapped around him and his softening erection still nestling inside me.

  He got us settled so we were both comfy, and then stroked one of my boots while giving me a rueful smile. ‘Once you move in we’re going to have to limit the days that you’re allowed to wear these or else I’m going to be buried inside you twenty-four seven.’

  I giggled at his joke, but having Oliver inside me non-stop sounded pretty bloody fantastic to me.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Robyn

  ‘I can’t believe you’re leaving me,’ Sasha complained with an exaggerated groan. She was supposed to be helping me pack up my stuff, but instead plopped down onto the bed and carelessly chucked one of my jumpers into an open packing box beside her. ‘Although, actually, with the way you and Oliver are always all over each other I suppose I should be glad you lasted this long living here.’ She gave a knowing wiggle of her finely shaped eyebrows and pouted at me. ‘Knowing his penchant for dominance, I thought he’d have dragged you off to live with him months ago so he could get your undivided attention twenty-four seven.’

  Her mention of Oliver’s dominance made me recall his comment last week about how he’d like to be inside me twenty-four seven, and I giggled, before hiding my blushes by standing up, retrieving the jumper she had carelessly chucked, folding it, and laying it in an open suitcase.

  ‘It didn’t feel like something we should rush. Besides, I wanted him to meet my parents before we moved in together.’

  ‘Yeah, I get that. Bet he charmed the pants off them, huh?’

  Amusing visions of my parents ripping off their pants and throwing them at Oliver filled my mind and I chuckled. ‘Not literally, thank goodness, but yes, he was in full suave and sophisticated mode, and they loved him.’ I smiled, remembering the expression on my mum’s face when I’d first introduced her to Oliver. Her mouth had dropped open and she’d looked almost starstruck, like he was some Hollywood actor or something. I suppose with his chiselled looks, sparkling eyes, and calm confidence he did have that kind of vibe about him.

  The evening had been lovely, much more relaxed than I’d expected, and had thankfully finished with both my parents giving their wholehearted support to our relationship.

  Sasha threw another jumper into the box and scrunched her face up like a petulant child. Some help she was being, I was having to repack every item she touched! ‘What am I going to do without you? Who am I going to drink endless bottles of wine with?’

  Retrieving the screwed-up jumper with a smile, I rolled my eyes. ‘I’m sure you’ll survive. Besides, you still have Chloe.’

  Sasha let out a dramatic sigh and lay back on the bed, flopping an arm over her face. She’d obviously decided that she’d had enough of helping me pack. ‘I know, but all she drinks is Chardonnay, for God’s sakes. Char-don-aaay.’ She drew out the word to highlight her absolute disgust of the beverage. ‘It’s like the devil’s piss. I’m going to have to do some serious training with her to get her to your level of drinking buddy compatibility.’

  Letting out another laugh, I also gave up on my packing and joined Sasha on the bed. ‘It’s not like I’m moving to Iceland, Sash. I’ll just be a few Tube stops away. We’ll still see each other plenty.’ Even as I said the words, I knew I was going to miss having Sasha around every day. I was so excited about moving in with Oliver, but these few years of living in a girly flat had been lovely, and I would definitely miss Sasha’s wicked sense of humour and filthy jokes, not forgetting her amazing skills with Thai food.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, you’ll be too busy being humped senseless by the big bad Wolfe to spare time for lil’ old me.’ She gave me a cheeky wink and grinned like a Cheshire Cat as she used her favourite nickname for Oliver. ‘I mean, sharing a glass of vino with me can hardly compete with being sexed silly until you can’t walk straight, can it?’

  My cheeks filled with heat and I grinned at her blatancy before deciding to join in with her teasing. ‘True, but I am occasionally going to need to rehydrate and come out for air, probably once every few months… so that’s when I’ll squeeze you in.’

  Sasha spluttered out a giggle and lobbed a pillow at me. ‘Ha! You better see me more frequently than that!’

  Playfully grabbing the pillow off her and returning the favour by flinging it back at her head, I grinned. ‘Of course I will! We’ll see each other each week, I promise.’

  She caught the pillow with a laugh. ‘I should bloody well hope so!’

  ‘Maybe we could make Thursday our new night to meet up,’ I suggested as I stood up and carried on packing clothes into the cases
.

  ‘Sounds good to me. Why Thursdays in particular?’

  ‘Oliver plays squash with Marcus on a Thursday and then goes for a beer with him at Club Twist. Me and you could do a girls’ night somewhere while they’re out.’

  Sasha thoughtfully absorbed my suggestion and then nodded slowly. ‘Sounds like a plan.’

  She put the pillow aside, stood up, and opened my jewellery box before starting to collect the earrings and bracelets that were scattered on my dressing table and carefully stowing them in the box. ‘I’m thinking that now you’re moving out it might be time for me to look at buying a place of my own. What do you think?’

  I perked up at her news and nodded. ‘I think it’s a great idea, Sash.’ Sasha’s inheritance from her parents meant she had plenty of money in her bank account, but even with her sizeable savings she hadn’t had enough to buy a three-bedroom place in the extortionate London property market. She hadn’t had the heart to chuck me or Chloe out, so she’d just carried on renting so we could all stay together. ‘What areas are you going to look at?’

  Before she could answer we were interrupted by the doorbell, so I gave her a “hold that thought” look and jumped up. Once I’d navigated the stacked boxes in my room, I jogged out through the flat and peered through the spy hole to see Oliver outside holding a large cardboard box in his hands.

  I pulled the door open with a broad smile, ushered him in, and was immediately swamped with the delicious smell of Chinese food. ‘Hello, gorgeous,’ he murmured, dropping a kiss in the top of my hair as he passed. He slid the box onto the sideboard. ‘I thought you might be busy packing, so I brought lunch. Chinese, I hope that’s OK?’

  ‘It’s bloody brilliant!’ Sasha declared, joining us in the lounge area and eyeing the box hopefully before wincing in embarrassment. ‘If there’s enough for me, I mean. Sorry, didn’t mean to invite myself to eat your food.’