by Shelly Bell
Sparks danced across the globes of her ass, heating her skin and waking her up in more ways than one, as each stroke of the flogger forced her body forward, her hard nipples brushing the wood of the cross. In no time at all, her entire backside throbbed from the fiery stings and her pussy clenched relentlessly, aching for relief. Pain and pleasure intertwined, raising her higher and higher into a state of erotic bliss. Her pulsing clit felt as though it had swelled to ten times its normal size as she teetered on the edge of climax.
She heard herself crying out and sensed the wetness on her cheeks, but none of it mattered, only the burning of her skin and the deep winding tension inside her pussy. Then both the stings and the thuds from both of the floggers rained down on her flesh, and it was as if each individual fall of the flogger caressed her clit.
The hot liquid rush of climax roared through her, spreading up her belly and down her legs. Dizzy and breathless, she heard a voice through the whirring noise in her ears, and she realized Tristan was beside her, stroking his hand through her hair.
“Color? Angel, what color?”
She licked her dry lips. “Green. Don’t stop. Please.” The orgasm had taken off the edge, but she needed more. She was a live wire, exposed and ready to go off.
He undid her restraints. “I’m going to turn you to face me.” With one hand on her shoulder and another one on her hip, he slowly spun her. “Good girl.”
She looked up at him, desperately aching to be filled, and slid her fingers into the tousled, silky blond hair at the base of his neck. “Touch me. I’m burning inside. I need to come again.”
He sighed, his eyes growing hooded. “Oh, Angel.” He pulled her to his chest and tucked her head under his chin. “I’ve never wanted to fuck anyone more in my life.”
The crude way he spoke drove her arousal even higher. Tony had always referred to it as ‘making love.’ Well, making love had been nice and boring. For once in her life, she wanted to be fucked.
Dreama’s words came back to haunt her. “No penetration at this play party, right?” she asked.
He paused briefly then pulled back, his eyes blazing with enough heat to set off a fire alarm. “Not here. But I have somewhere we can go.”
Despite her desperate ache for him, her rational side wouldn’t allow her to leave with a stranger. “I can’t leave with you.”
“Upstairs. There’s a bedroom.” He tipped up her chin. “Will you come with me?”
She didn’t know how or why the rules of the house didn’t apply to him, but at the moment, she didn’t care. Tomorrow, she’d return to the real world. Tonight, she’d live out her fantasy with a stranger.
***
After Angel had dressed and he’d assured Dreama he would keep her cousin safe, Tristan brought her upstairs, his mind replaying the memory of the beautiful way she’d come from his flogging. Her moans and cries floated in the air like a symphony in a room filled with rock music. He’d never experienced such a perfect connection with any submissive before. It was as if she was made for him.
He wanted to do more than fuck her tonight.
He wanted to get under her skin and brand his essence into her so that every other man would know he’d staked his claim on her.
He wanted her to picture his face every time she closed her eyes at night.
Wanted her to imagine her fingers were his cock every time she masturbated.
Wanted his name on her lips every time she climaxed.
He wanted to become her Master. Own her body and soul.
The knowledge of her existence terrified the shit out of him because everything he wanted from her was forbidden. She was too damned young and innocent, and he was a jaded fuck who no longer remembered what it was like to believe in permanence.
If she was the forbidden apple in the Garden of Eden, he was the snake. He’d give her one night to know what it would be like to belong to a man like him, and it would no doubt send an innocent like her running in the morning. Off she’d go into the big bad world, armed with enough knowledge to know she should stay as far away as she could from a man like him.
He pushed open the door to Ryder’s extra bedroom and flipped on the lights, using the dimmer switch to set the mood.
There wasn’t a spot on Angel’s body that he didn’t want to see with his own eyes. Touch with his fingers. Taste with his tongue. Fucking her in the dark would deprive him of what he craved, and deprivation was the last thing on the menu. Tonight was about indulging until satiation.
Just from flogging her, he’d gone into a Dom space like he’d never experienced before, her submission like a drug coursing through his veins. Watching her skin turn pink as she writhed and cried out, shaking with the need to orgasm, had made his balls tighten and his cock throb.
Biting her plump lower lip, Angel shyly walked into the room, her hair falling in her face. Just as he had earlier in the evening, he sensed her innocence. When she’d taken off her clothes, she’d claimed she wasn’t shy, and maybe she wasn’t by the strict definition of the word. She clearly had exhibitionistic tendencies. But her inexperience radiated off her in the way her large eyes took in the sights and sounds of the dungeon.
And fuck if that didn’t make him want to dirty her up.
Hungry for another taste, he turned and stalked the couple of steps to her, loving the way her eyes widened and her chest rapidly rose and fell, signaling her arousal.
He slammed her back against the door, his mouth coming down on hers with brutal intensity. She tasted just as she smelled—like a vanilla cupcake with buttercream frosting. He’d never smell vanilla again without his dick getting hard, thinking of this woman.
Little gasps and moans flew from her lips, her body growing soft and compliant under him. He twisted the lock on the door and palmed her thighs under her incredible ass, lifting her off the ground to take her to the bed. He needed to get things under control before he forgot about important shit like foreplay and condoms and just fucked her bareback against the door.
She wrapped her sweet thighs around his waist as he carried her to the bed and laid her down. He drew her makeshift dress over her head, leaving her completely naked.
She looked up at him as though he was her hero. Maybe he was in some fucked up version of a fairytale, because he was no hero. He was the villain. A beast who would use her body in ways she’d never imagined before disappearing into the night, leaving her sore, abused body behind. He’d best remind her right now that there was no room for vanilla in his life. The last time he’d made love, it was all an illusion.
Domination, sadism, bondage. Those were his reality.
He straddled her, grabbing her fragile wrists in one hand and raising them above her head. Ryder’s basement wasn’t the only room in the house equipped for BDSM play. Within seconds, he had Angel’s hands bound to the headboard of the bed by a single Velcro cuff. A shudder ran through her as she squirmed beneath him.
Checking in, he nipped her ear and whispered, “What color?”
Her tongue darted out as if searching for his and she licked her lips. “Green. Please fuck me now.”
Even though she was trying to top from the bottom, he loved her eagerness. “First, tell me your safe words.”
“Red to stop. Yellow to slow down.” She bucked her hips. “Now, are you going to fuck me?”
His cock was demanding entry into what he knew was going to be a snug, hot pussy, but he wanted to savor the short time he had with her. “Not yet.” Those breasts of hers were begging to be marked first.
Settling between her thighs, he sucked a nipple into his mouth, enjoying the shiver that wracked her body. He wanted to give her something she’d never forget. Teach her the pleasure that could be found in pain. He released her nipple and gently bit the creamy flesh of her breast, over and over, not too hard, but with enough pressure to leave small bruises. Her breathing accelerated and pleas for more fell from her lips. By the time he finished, her breasts were covered with the proof of his
desire for her in the form of strawberry colored bite marks. Seeing them sent a sense of satisfaction through him that he hadn’t felt in years, making his balls ache with the need for release.
There were so many things he wanted to do to the body laid out before him, but he couldn’t wait another moment without sinking into her. He stripped off his shirt and jumped from the bed, taking off his pants and retrieving a condom from his wallet. It was his only one, but he had no doubt his friend stored plenty more, as well as other sexual aids, in the nightstand beside the bed.
“You don’t wear underwear,” she remarked, her voice raspy.
He rolled the latex down his length, climbed back onto the mattress and lifted her legs, holding her by the ankles. “Not when I’m in the mood to play.” He lined his cock up with her pussy and pushed his way in slowly, methodically, letting her tight tissues grow accustomed to his size. “And tonight, I’m in the mood to play all night long. From this point on, I don’t want you to speak unless it’s to say your safe words or in response to a question. Is that clear, Angel?”
She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. “Yes, Tristan.”
She was tight, tight enough that for a second, he questioned whether she could be a virgin. But as he fully seated himself within her without any resistance, he realized he’d aptly named her Angel because he had truly found heaven in her pussy.
Heat traveled from the tip of his cock to his balls as he slid his length back and forth, pumping shallowly, not giving her enough to orgasm.
Biting her lip, she moaned and squeezed his dick, no doubt attempting to either drive him to move faster or to increase the pressure in her cunt to achieve climax. Either way, it wasn’t her place. If he had more time and the right supplies, he’d teach her how to truly surrender and give up all her power to him, including the power to orgasm.
But they only had this one night together. Some other lucky fuck would get the chance to teach her about all she was capable of and would mold her into the perfect submissive. The idea of another man getting inside her hot-as-sin pussy set his blood boiling with a rage he had no right to feel.
Checking above him, he spotted the restraints hanging from the ceiling and grabbed one, securing the leather around one ankle by the snaps before doing the same with her other ankle. The restraints spread her legs into a V and tilted up her ass, allowing him deeper access. He quickened his thrusts and pressed two of his fingers down on her clit, rubbing hard, taking charge of her orgasm. She bucked her hips, but he held her in place, not allowing her to escape the onslaught of sensations, wanting to take her right to the edge of almost pain.
Her body shook, the cries and moans growing louder and louder, until she tensed and went completely silent as she came, her cunt doing all the talking for her as it clamped down on his dick over and over again.
He was lost. Seduced by the unguarded sensuality reflected in her emerald irises, he was lost in her innocence. In the way she submitted to him so freely, her responses honest and true. There was something special about Angel. It was as if she was ageless, her body like that of a woman in her early twenties, lithe and tight, while her eyes portrayed a wisdom that surpassed those of anyone else he’d ever met.
He drowned in those eyes as his orgasm reared up on him, electric sparks skating down his spine and wrapping around his balls, his cum jettisoning into the condom. He came and he came hard, but he couldn’t stop himself from slowly pumping himself into her, his cock still half-erect and ready for another round.
As she looked up at him, trusting him to honor her boundaries and care for her limits, he knew now was the time to attend to her emotional and physical needs. A slight gasp escaped her as he gripped the condom and carefully removed himself from her slick heat. He removed the restraints from her ankles and lowered her legs to the soft mattress before releasing her wrists from the headboard.
“Stay put,” he whispered, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead. She didn’t move, sleepiness evident in her half-lidded eyes. He disposed of the condom then quickly collected a wet washcloth and a tube of arnica cream from the bathroom. When he returned to her not a minute later, he wasn’t a bit surprised to find her already dozing.
For her being a newbie to BDSM, he’d worked her over pretty hard. He probably should’ve taken it easier on her tonight, but he didn’t regret his decision to show her what it could be like between them. In the years since his world had gone to hell for the second time in his life, he’d become convinced that a true connection between a Dom and sub was a fictional tale better suited for an erotic romance story. But meeting Angel had him reconsidering his position.
Her eyes fluttered as he gently cleaned between her legs. “What are you doing?” she asked groggily.
He smiled at her. “Aftercare.”
She closed her eyes again and sighed. “It’s nice. Thank you.”
It was nice. Damned nice. Not that he minded doing it, but he’d always considered aftercare as a requirement. This was different. He wanted to take care of Angel. As she flitted in and out of sleep, he massaged her arms and legs and applied arnica cream to reduce the swelling from the flogging. Then he helped her under the covers and did the one thing he hadn’t done in years.
He slid into bed beside her.
He didn’t do sleepovers with subs because it gave them expectations of the possibility of more. And he just wasn’t capable of it.
Until now.
Until her.
Although he swore he’d let her rest, he woke her up twice during the night to fuck her. He promised himself that in the morning, he’d make his breakfast out of her pussy before asking to see her again.
But when he opened his eyes to the sun streaming in through the window, his arms were empty. She had left, the only trace of her the scent of vanilla lingering in the air.
If he wanted to, he could track her down through her cousin, but they’d agreed to one night, and despite having changed his mind, he’d honor her wishes. After all, with his new job, he’d have little time to devote to a relationship.
He rolled out of bed and got dressed. There were a dozen things left to do before he left for Hayvenwood University.
Perhaps someday, when the timing was right, he and Angel would meet again.
Chapter 3
There wasn’t a cloud in the blue sky and the sun shone on the entire campus, making it look like one of those photos on the front of the school brochures used to lure potential students. Before this morning, Isabella would’ve thought the pictures were Photoshopped, but clearly, Hayvenwood University didn’t require it.
A smile tugged at her lips as she was filled with a buoyancy she hadn’t felt in more than a year. This was a sign. She was truly getting a chance to start over and leave the past behind her. She had a perfect grade point average, a job she’d gotten through work study to help her pay for tuition, and an awesome roommate in Cat. Best of all, she didn’t have to deal with the daily deliveries of flowers and letters from Tony reminding her she’d never be safe. He had no idea where she lived, and she planned on keeping it that way.
And now, she was finally going to meet Professor Crawford, the teacher she would be assisting all semester. They’d spoken a few times over the phone, but he hadn’t returned any of her calls for nearly a month. She worried he’d changed his mind, but her financials showed work study still paying for a huge chunk of her tuition. Now she just had to worry about earning some money to cover incidentals.
She hurried inside the Lancaster Business School, where she would be spending half of her week, every week, and stopped inside the entrance, savoring it. After all her hard work, she’d finally made it.
Another student rushed past, bumping his heavy backpack into her, the force of it knocking her into a wall of flyers. He threw a mumbled apology over his shoulder before hurrying to the stairs that would take him to the second floor.
A flyer for a frat party caught her eye. Getting an idea, she yanked it off the wall and st
uck it in her purse. A frat party would be a perfect opportunity for her to introduce her bakery business to the students. Baking from a dorm room would be difficult, but thanks to modern technology, not impossible. What she needed was an angle, and she had just the right one for a bunch of college students. She’d go to the parties, wait until the munchies hit, then bam, she’d rake in a fortune.
Her feet clipped on the tile floor as she walked the halls of the main floor to the last room on the right. Ready for her first college class, she took a deep breath and entered. The stadium style room was huge and each seat seemed to be taken. She walked down the steps to the front row, where apparently no one wanted to sit. With her choice of seats, she settled into one at the end and reached inside her backpack for her notebook and pen.
“Is this seat taken?”
She peered up at the guy waiting for her to respond, her first thought that he had the most amazing blue eyes. Framed by dark lashes, they were almost turquoise. Her second thought was that this was just the kind of boy she would’ve been attracted to before her night with Tristan. She hadn’t been able to get him or that night with him out of her mind. “Umm . . . I don’t think so.”
He sat in the seat next to her, dropping his designer backpack on the floor and offering his hand. “I’m Jordan.”
She cautiously accepted it. “Isabella.”
“I haven’t seen you before.” He released her hand and dug into his bag, pulling out a lap top. “Are you a transfer?”
“No. I’m a freshman.”
His eyes widened as he flipped open his computer. “Wow. I never would’ve guessed.” He leaned toward her with a friendly smile. “If you have any questions about the university, let me know. I’m a junior, so I’m pretty knowledgeable about the campus. In fact, I’d be happy to give you a tour. Maybe this weekend?”
She twirled her pen between her fingers. Was he flirting? While he seemed like a nice guy, she wasn’t planning on dating him or anyone else this year, especially since she doubted he was into the whole D/s scene.
