by Hannah Ford
“What are you into?” My heart was still beating a steady rhythm against my rib cage, so intense in its ferocity I was afraid it was going to jump through my skin.
“Whips.” He ran his finger over my nipple, tracing it through my t-shirt. “Chains.” His hand palmed my breast and his thumb brushed the raised peak. “Punishments.”
The words should have made me scream and fight, but I was mesmerized.
“Like you would tie me up?” I whispered, horrified.
“If you were bad.”
“What would… what would I do to be bad?”
“Anything that displeased me.”
He was still kneading my breast through my shirt, and a strangled moan escaped my lips.
“Does that feel good, baby?”
I didn’t answer him, my face burning with humiliation at the way he was manhandling my body, at the way he was talking to me, telling me he was going to keep me here, that he was going to tie me up and whip me.
“Does it?” he pressed.
“Yes.”
“Tell me where my hand is.”
“On my breast.”
“On your tit.”
“On my tit.”
“Where do you want my mouth?” he whispered, and the first thing that came to my mind was, between my legs. I got wet, and he grinned as if he could tell exactly what I was thinking and feeling. “You are dirty, aren’t you, baby girl?”
“No.” “Oh, I think you are.” He lowered his head to my neck, his lips brushing my skin softly. “I think you’re so dirty, aren’t you, Emery? You’re thinking about my mouth on your pussy, aren’t you?”
I moaned, not wanting to admit it, hating and loving the way his lips felt against my neck, and not being able to help but think about them between my legs.
“Have you ever been kissed on your pussy?” he asked.
I shook my head.
He lowered his head to mine, licking my bottom lip, then sucking it between his lips before parting my lips with his tongue. My body instantly relaxed into his, melted against the strength of him, and he was pulling me toward him as his arms encircled my waist.
I could feel him hard through the thin material of his pants, against my thigh, and his cock felt so big and thick I almost gasped.
He kept kissing me, his tongue taking my mouth, claiming me.
“Fuck, baby, where’d you learn to kiss like that?” he asked when he finally broke the kiss.
“I don’t know.” My face flamed.
He went to reach for the bottom of my t-shirt, but I grabbed his hand.
“I’m not… I’ve never done this before.” My voice caught on the words.
His eyes darkened. “You’ve never done what before?”
“Had sex.”
“You’re a virgin?”
“Yes.” I twisted my hand against his. “What did you think inexperienced meant?”
Indecision flashed over his features, but then it was replaced with something else, something primal and masculine and possessive. “Your body will respond to mine,” he murmured. “It will know exactly what to do. Like I said, Emery, a body this beautiful was made to be fucked.”
He began to lift my shirt again, but I stopped him again. “There’s something else.”
He raised his eyebrows. “More than that you’re a virgin?”
“Yes.”
“What?” he asked, sounding slightly impatient now, the tone of a man who wasn’t used to any kind of obstacles being in his path, the tone of a man who was used to getting what he wanted and wouldn’t be stopped no matter what.
“I have scars,” I whispered.
“What?”
“On my legs.” I reached down and tugged at my pajama pants, pulling then down just the tiniest bit and showing him the raised red scars that criss-crossed the tops of my thighs.
His breathing quickened, and his hand reached down and touched my skin, tracing the ugly marks. “Who did this to you?” he growled.
I closed my eyes and stayed quiet, the emotions that were welling inside of me making it impossible to talk.
“Does this have anything to do with your nightmares?”
I opened my eyes and nodded slowly.
His hand pushed at my pajama pants tugging them further down my thighs and pulling them off, until I was wearing just his t-shirt and my panties. His hand grazed my cheek and then his mouth was back on mine, kissing me, his hands sliding up under the back of my shirt as my skin burst into flames and tiny little fireworks displays exploded all over my body.
I pressed into him, wanting more, wanting him to distract me from what I was thinking about, the nightmares, the dreams, the scars.
Liam rolled his body on top of mine, his hard cock pressing into me. He maneuvered his way in between my legs and ground into me. My panties got forced up into the slit of my pussy as he kissed me hard, and I could feel my pussy lips spreading open.
He pulled back. “Fuck, baby, you feel good.”
My chest was heaving. “Are you going to fuck me now?” I asked tentatively.
He grinned. “No, baby, not yet.”
“Because I’m a virgin?”
“No. Because first you have to learn how to please me.”
“How do I please you?” “Do you know how to take a spanking, Emery?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean do you know how to be a good little girl, how to push your ass into the air as my palm strikes your bare flesh, how to stay quiet if I tell you to, how to obey me?”
I shook my head, my eyes wide.
“Turn over, baby,” he said.
I turned over on the bed, and felt him pull my panties slowly down over my ass, until they were bunched at the top of my thighs. He caressed my bare butt with his palm, as terror flowed through me.
I couldn’t deny it any longer. I couldn’t pretend or convince myself he was just some hot guy I was making out with in the dark.
This was real, it was dirty and twisted, the and messed up things he was doing to me were making me horny as hell.
“I want you to stay quiet,” Liam said. “I want you to keep yourself quiet, even if you have to bite the pillow to do it. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
I felt him pull his hand from my body.
I closed my eyes and waited for the first strike.
END OF BOOK ONE
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