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Snowburn

Page 51

by E J Frost


  the paddle has left on her pale skin.

  Beautiful.

  “Sorry, kitten, I couldn’t hear you, what

  was that?”

  “I-I—” she stutters. I give her a second to

  start to regain her composure, then bring the

  paddle down hard on her unmarked cheek.

  She howls, twisting wildly against the

  restraints. Scrabbling with her knees and feet

  before collapsing back into the hammock.

  I rub my palms over her ass. Gently cup

  the pinkened skin. Listen to her breathing to

  make sure she’s okay. That the two blows

  haven’t been too much. She’s panting,

  gasping, but not crying. Not saying the safe-

  word. I reach under her and untwist her skirt,

  which has tangled while she’s been

  thrashing. Fold it gently over her back so her

  scar is covered. I don’t want her to be self-

  conscious about that now. I want her entire

  focus to be on what I’m doing to her. When

  her breathing begins to even out, I rub the

  paddle in a slow figure-eight over the sweet

  globes of her ass. “I’m waitin’, kitten.”

  She arches her shoulders. Rubs her

  forehead against the hammock. “F-fuck,

  what?”

  “Tell me what you saw.” I keep rubbing

  while I speak. Watch the flush begin to fade,

  leaving just the spatulate red marks that will

  darken into bruises, livid against her pale

  skin. Is there anything more beautiful than her

  marked ass?

  “I, uh, I walked in on it at a party.” She

  snuffles. “T-there was a girl. She was tied

  up. And this guy was hitting the backs of her

  legs with a stick.”

  Caning. I like the marks of spanking or

  paddling better, but I could make myself a

  cane, if that would turn my kitten on. “Backs

  of her legs, huh?” I ease a hand under her.

  Lift her hips onto my forearm. Her body arcs,

  perfectly exposing the tops of her thighs. I set

  the paddle aside for a moment to stroke the

  soft, vulnerable spot under each buttock.

  Press in with my fingers until her breath

  catches. Release and watch the four marks of

  my fingers blanche. “Didn’t they stop when

  you walked in on ‘em? Tell you to get out?”

  “N-no. They let me stay and watch.”

  “Did it turn you on, kitten?” I ask softly.

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  “Is that what you imagined me doin’ to

  you? All those nights you were humpin’ my

  coat?”

  She thrashes indignantly, but between the

  restraints and the arm I’ve got under her,

  she’s not going anywhere.

  I pick up the paddle and rub it across the

  back of her thigh. “I didn’t hear an answer,

  kitten.”

  “I, uh, oh God, please, Hale, don’t. I

  can’t – not again.”

  Not the safe word. I tap her very lightly

  with the paddle. “No? I think you deserve at

  least one more for calling me that.”

  “I, uh—”

  I time it the same as before. Just as she

  draws breath. I bring the paddle down on the

  back of her thigh. She shrieks and bucks

  against my arm, against the restraints. So

  hard the whole hammock shakes. I didn’t hit

  her as hard as on the first two strokes; she’s

  got less padding on the back of her thighs. I

  don’t want her so bruised she can’t enjoy the

  rest of the night.

  “And maybe one more for not answering

  me.” I rub the back of her other thigh with the

  paddle. She definitely needs symmetrical

  marks.

  “No!” she wails, before I even raise the

  paddle. “No, no, no. That’s it. I can’t take

  any more.”

  “One more.”

  “No! Please, I can’t.” She twists against

  the restraints. “Please, Hale!”

  “One more for me.” I press the paddle

  against the backs of her thighs. She’ll feel

  that in other places, too.

  “No, no, no.” She tosses her head back

  and forth between her bound arms.

  I set the paddle on top of her ass. Rub my

  fingers down between those sweet, firm

  globes. Her sex is like an arrowhead,

  pointing the way to the promised land. She’s

  so aroused her thighs glisten all the way to

  her knees. I tickle my fingers up and down

  her pouty, wet lips until she’s shuddering and

  rolling her hips against my arm. “Is this what

  you want, kitten?”

  “Yes,” she moans.

  “I might be inclined to give it to you. But

  you have to take one more stroke for me.”

  “No, God. No, just, no.” She sobs dryly

  for a moment. Then her ass lifts and every

  muscle in her body clenches, locking against

  the pain. “Do it. Don’t talk to me about it.

  Just get it over with!”

  “No, that’s not the way it works.” I

  withdraw my fingers. Pick up the paddle and

  give her a light tap across the juncture I’ve

  just been stroking. Smile at her gasp. “You

  have to ask for it.”

  She sags against my arm. “Fuck you!”

  I give her another tap across her flared

  labia with the paddle. “Nicely.”

  “No! I won’t. I won’t!”

  “You will,” I say gently. Rub hard with

  the paddle. I’m loving this. I’ve never played

  with a woman like this before – although

  I’ve fantasized about it plenty – I never

  thought a woman would trust me enough to

  give herself over to me so completely. It’s

  such a turn-on I’m about to come in my pants.

  She bucks and thrashes. Protests so

  vehemently her voice rises to a hiss I’ve

  never heard her make before. Like a furious

  cat. I keep coaxing her with light touches of

  the paddle. Soft taunts. She’s sobbing, her

  breath hitching, her body a tight arc between

  the restraints on her wrists and my arm

  pinioning her hips. I know this is harder for

  her than taking pain, although the paddling

  might be more painful than she expected. She

  has a stubborn, anti-authoritarian streak.

  She’s fine when she’s just surrendering

  control, but making her ask for it, forcing her to become complicit in her own submission,

  brings that anti-authoritarian streak right to

  the front. And that she’s put up a fight, drawn

  a line and resisted me, makes the battle, and

  her inevitable surrender, a thousand times

  sweeter.

  Finally, she slumps into the hammock.

  Her hips are a dead weight across my arm.

  Her skin is sheened with sweat. I know

  what’s coming and it’s so exciting that it’s

  all I can do not to pull her ass into the air and

  fuck her. But I want that victory. That

  ultimate surrender. I rub two fingers up and

  down the crack of her ass, tickling and

  teasing. She shudders. Whis
pers something

  too low for me to make out the words.

  “Loud enough that I can hear, kitten.”

  She howls, defiant even in her surrender.

  “Please . . . give me one more!”

  I lift her hips with my arm and bring the

  paddle down on the back of her thigh before

  her words have even faded from the air. She

  screams, coughs and sobs into her crossed

  arms. I drop the paddle into the bag and

  stroke her ass, feeling the wonderful heat of

  her flushed skin. Then I pull her back onto

  her knees, kneel behind her as I push my

  pants down and enter her. She’s so slippery I

  don’t even need to work myself in. Her body

  clenches around mine immediately. As soon

  as I enter her. She’s coming already, sobbing

  and gasping. I thrust deep to heighten her

  pleasure, ride the convulsions of her orgasm

  with hard strokes. Throw my head back and

  grit my teeth when my body starts to follow

  her. Just as I feel my balls clench, I reach

  down and squeeze the base of my cock.

  Stars explode behind my eyelids. My

  groans of pleasure end in a sharp gulp. I was

  close and it hurts more than I expect to

  suppress my orgasm. But the pain does its

  job – I don’t come, and when Kez collapses

  under me, I ease out of her and wipe myself

  off. Still ready and able to play.

  Kez pulls her legs up under her, curls into

  a trembling ball. Bruised ass in the air. Face

  buried between her arms. I stretch out beside

  her and lazily rub a towel between her legs.

  Give her time to calm down after that

  intense, intense play. Slowly, she turns her

  head so she can look at me. Her eyes and

  cheeks are wet. I reach behind me, pick up a

  fresh towel and wipe her face.

  “How’re you doin’, kitten?” I ask, as I

  clean her up.

  “O-okay,” she whispers.

  I don’t believe her. She’s shaking all

  over. Maybe it was too much.

  “C’mere.” I reach up and release the

  slip-knot so I can gather her to me without

  yanking on her arms. Wait until she relaxes a

  little, then cradle her against my chest. Feel

  the sweet, damp brush of skin and hair where

  her dress has ridden up and my pants have

  tangled around my knees. Intimate. Nice.

  “How’s that? Better?”

  “Better,” she whispers. She burrows into

  me. I stroke her, slowly, running my hand

  over her from nape to the hot skin of her ass.

  There’s a bulge of material twisted around

  her waist. I tug on it until she lifts and I can

  straighten it out for her, although I leave it

  pushed up to her waist in the front so I can

  continue to enjoy the brush of her skin

  against mine. Slowly, she stops shaking.

  “If it ever gets to be too much,” I say,

  “Remember rule number two.” I’ll be sorry

  if she uses the safe-word. I’m enjoying this

  more than any sex I’ve ever had. But I don’t

  want it to be too much for her.

  She rubs her cheek against my shoulder

  and blinks those huge, tear-stained eyes up at

  me. “I can’t see ever doing that.”

  “Not even if I paddle you again?” She

  winces and twitches away. I chuckle and

  gather her close. “Was it too much?”

  “No, it was . . .” She thinks about it

  seriously for a moment. “I don’t know the

  right way to say it.”

  “Painful?”

  “Uh. No. I mean, it hurt. A lot. But that’s

  not what made it different. It felt like – it felt

  like you were pulling me apart. That doesn’t

  make any sense, does it?”

  “Yeah, it does.” Any other time, maybe

  not. But I felt her struggle. Felt her break

  through some internal barrier in order to give

  what I was demanding from her. “How’re

  you feelin’ now?”

  She’s silent for a long moment, which is

  all the answer I need. She’s still shaken. “Put

  your arms around my neck,” I tell her.

  When she does, I pull her thigh over

  mine. Snug her body close. Run my hands all

  over her. Gentle over the hot, bruised flesh

  of her ass. Tickling over her arms and upper

  back. Sneaking my hands under the soft

  fabric of her dress to caress her sweat-sticky

  skin. “Is that better?” I ask softly.

  “Yes,” she breathes. Her breathy little

  admission, combined with the petting, bring

  the little monster back to attention.

  I cup her sweet face, tilt it up to mine,

  kiss her slow and deep. “I love playin’ with

  you, kitten. More’n anything I’ve ever done.”

  “Have you done this . . . a lot?” she asks.

  “I mean, have you done this kind of thing

  before, a lot?”

  “Nope. You wanna know how it

  started?” That’s a memory I don’t mind

  sharing.

  “Yes.” She cuddles closer.

  “My very first girl. Her name was Selly.

  Orphan like you an’ me. We were in the

  same home. We’d been together a couple of

  weeks. Hadn’t done anything but straight

  missionary. She’d come to me a virgin and

  neither of us knew anything other than what

  we’d been taught in v-school and told by

  other kids. One night, we were wrestlin’

  around. I was ticklin’ her and she was

  pretendin’ to fight back. I ended up on top.

  She was wrigglin’ around under me. I pinned

  her down. Next thing I knew, she’d wrapped

  her legs around my waist and we were

  fucking like that, with me holding her down.

  Best thing I’d ever felt. Beautiful.” It was the

  first time Selly and I came together – the first

  time I was sure Selly came at all. It was

  beautiful, but it was nothing compared to

  what I do with Kez. I kiss her to make sure

  she knows that. “That’s when I knew what I

  wanted. But I lost Selly not long after, and I

  didn’t find it again.” Not for decades. The

  girl on the Galaxaura objected when I tried

  to tie her up. Mouse was too damaged for

  anything rough, although she did initiate me

  into the wonderful world of anal sex. “Not

  until you, kitten.”

  “Really?” She looks up at me, wide-eyed

  with surprise. “I thought you’d done this a

  million times.”

  “Not even a dozen times. Most of ‘em

  with you.”

  That gets me a broad, brilliant kitten

  smile. “I like that.”

  “Yeah?” I give her a squeeze and another

  deep kiss. “I like bein’ with you. Whatever

  we’re doin’.”

  Her smile turns sly and sexy.

  “You wanna try somethin’ else?” I’m

  pretty sure she’s okay now. The paddling

  shook her, but she seems ready to play again.

  But I give her the chance to bow out if she
<
br />   wants to.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Good. Roll over. Take a look at that sky

  while I get ready.”

  She does, without hesitation or argument.

  I leave the ties around her wrists, straighten

  out her dress, shuck off my pants and drape

  the thermoblanket over our legs so we don’t

  get cold.

  “Wow, that’s beautiful,” she says.

  Propping myself on my elbow behind her,

  looking down at the sweet curves of her neck

  and shoulder, I completely agree.

  “Don’t you—?” Kez cranes her neck so

  she can look back over her shoulder at me.

  Finds me looking at her and rolls her eyes.

  “You’re not watching the sunset.”

  No, I wasn’t. I was looking at something

  much more interesting. I glance at the sky –

  which is pretty – then back at my kitten.

  “You watch it. I’ll watch you.”

  She shakes her head at me, but looks back

  at the sunset. “What do you see?” she asks

  softly.

  “Everythin’ I want.” Actually, that’s not

  completely true. There are a few toys

  missing. I reach under the hammock into my

  bag, pull out two bulbs of lube, the little

  vibrator Kez chose, and several more

  towels. I roll up two of the towels, reach

  under the blanket, and place them in front of

  her thighs. “Put your knee across those.”

  She obeys immediately, opening herself

  up to me. I spoon against her back and enjoy

  the beauty in front of me. Kiss her soft nape.

  Reach around to cup her breasts. The dress

  lets me be rougher than I could be if her

  breasts were bare. I pinch and roll her

  nipples through the cloth until Kez is

  gasping, writhing against me. My cock’s

  snugged naturally between her ass-cheeks.

  Hard and ready. I rock my hips, tilt so my tip

  slides between her legs and rub myself

  against her, grinding against that soft

  wetness. But I avoid entering her. I want to

  stretch this out, this sweet play.

  “You’re not watchin’ the sunset,” I

  observe. She’s rolled her head to the side,

  pressed it into my shoulder, and closed her

  eyes. Her face is suffused with more light

  than the sky. She looks beyond happy. She

  looks blissful. I kiss the side of her neck, lick

  under her ear until she giggles.

  “Do you want me to pay attention to the

  sunset or what you’re doing to me?”

  “Both. If you’re gonna be a pilot, you

  gotta learn to multitask.”

  She laughs. “I multitask way better than

 

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