by Measha Stone
When she hadn’t come home the night before and then was absent for dinner, he began to worry he’d pushed too hard, too fast. That she doubted her decision to give him a week. But when she walked in, looking so damn hot in her new hairstyle, he just about jumped up in the air with a fist pump. She’d apologized, wanting to set things right with him. She wasn’t suffering from cold feet or remorse. She was trying to figure out how best to protect him.
Now he needed her. He needed to touch her, to mark her, to make her cry and beg and writhe beneath him. The look in her eyes told him she needed it, too.
“Yes, sir.” Her answer given so softly yanked him from his thoughts. He’d asked a question, right. Her apology.
“You are going to make up for it, right? You’re going to be my good girl tonight? Do what I want, when I want, how I want, without complaint?” He yanked off his shirt and tossed it across the room. She responded much better to him when she could see his muscles working as he was swinging the flogger.
“Yes, sir.”
“If you hide your eyes, if you disobey even the smallest command, we will have a problem. And if we have a problem what happens?”
“I get disciplined.”
He nearly groaned at the sound of her response. Her large pupils told him all about how hot she was for him at the moment. It wasn’t redemption she sought. No. She wanted to please him, to give him everything he could take from her. She got off on obedience, on serving him. He could use her body, find his own fulfillment, leaving her wanting for an orgasm that wouldn’t come, and she’d be just as content as if he’d fucked her to orgasm two or more times. How the hell had he gotten so lucky to find this woman?
“That’s right, pet.” He shoved the handle of the flogger between her teeth. “Hold that while I get my rope.” He smiled at the widening of her eyes when he mentioned the rope. She’d taken so well to it before. He couldn’t wait to work with her again. The idea of being tied down both excited and worried her, and he loved to play with those feelings.
He pulled her up onto the bed, pushing her on her back and began to position her how he wanted. She never dropped the flogger, not when he pulled her right leg straight up and tied it to the bed post, or when he began wrapping the rope around her other ankle, again and again, lining the rows of hemp up perfectly and then securing it to the opposite bed post, keeping her completely open and on the edge of the bed. She wouldn’t be able to close her legs.
“Put your hands over your head.” He grabbed her wrists, securing them together before tying the rope to his headboard. “There” he hopped off the bed. “You can’t move at all, can you? Nod your head, pet. You don’t need your mouth yet.”
She tugged at the wrist restraints, tried to bend her leg, pull her leg down from the post, nothing. Her eyes begged him, but he wasn’t in an accommodating mood. “You remember your safewords?” She nodded. “Good. Now, open your fucking mouth and give me my flogger.”
He gripped the handle and looked harder at her. “You got it all wet.” She was silent, but gave him a look that made him laugh. He wiped the handle on her thigh, then replaced the handle with a hard slap to her inner thigh. She cried out then, trying again to move her leg. “Can’t move, remember?” He gave her another slap, and she yelled. “Oh, are you tender here?” He pushed his nails into her skin, close to her groin and dragged across her thigh, to her knee, slowly and with as much force as he could without breaking her skin. Her squeal made his dick even harder, if that were possible. “I guess you are.” He gave her a wink.
She wanted to smart mouth him. He could see it. Each time they played she got closer to mouthing off, closer to giving him back some of the attitude he gave her. “Go on, say something.”
“No, sir.” She sucked in her lower lip and shook her head.
“No? Because you look like you want to say something. Maybe tell me to fuck off?” He leaned over her, putting his face directly in front of hers.
“Never, sir.” No matter what he gave her, she wouldn’t tell him to fuck off.
“Well, then.” He reached down, easily finding her pussy and began to rub her clit. Immediately she closed her eyes and tried to move toward him. “Can’t move, remember?” He grinned. “Open those eyes.” He pulled his hand back and slapped her clit hard until her eyes snapped open. “Don’t make me tell you again, pet. You know you don’t get to hide from me.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”
“Mm Hm.” He went back to rubbing her pussy, the tips of his fingers pinching and flicking her clit. He watched her watching him and could see the strain in her face. “Oh, does that feel really good?”
“Yes, sir,” she yelled out into the room.
“If I keep doing this, you’ll come?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Well, then I should stop.” He took his hand away and grinned down at her when she grunted in frustration. “Not yet, pet. You’ll come when I say.” He stepped back and ran the falls of the flogger through his hand, feeling the leather slide through his fingers.
She watched him, waiting for the first swat. When the tips of the falls landed on her pussy she screamed, and tried to move away. He didn’t remind her of her predicament, he simply continued. He brought it down on her thighs, her ass, her pussy. Every inch of her that was displayed before him slowly began to turn pink beneath the flogger.
She cried out beautifully with each strike, but no complaints, just musical reactions to the pain he delivered. After a dozen or so, he stopped and stroked her pussy some more. Brought her to the edge of her orgasm, watched her eyes dilate further, felt the juices run from her entrance and onto his fingers, and just when she was about to jump over the edge, he pulled back and brought the flogger down again.
When he was happy with the coloring of her ass and legs, he moved around the bed and began to beat on her tits. He loved the way they bounced when the flogger flicked across them. She turned her head away, avoiding looking at the falls as they landed on her breasts again. He’d never hit her face, but he couldn’t fault her for fearing it. He was close, the flogger landed on her chest. “Look at me.” She turned her head to face him again. “Good. Have you had enough?”
“Yes, sir. If you have.”
He reached over and plucked her nipple with his fingers, pinching it until it stood erect again.
“Good girl.” He bent over the bed and ran his tongue over the taught nipple, taking it between his teeth. His eyes rolled at the seductive sound of her hiss. “So fucking good. Almost done.” He dropped the flogger on the bed beside her and reached over to pick up the cane.
“Sir?” She began to wiggle in her bonds, but he ignored her. She would use her safeword if she needed to, he had to put that trust in her.
“Just five, on each leg.” He promised and tapped the cane on the inside of her right thigh. “Count them. If you don’t miss any, I’ll let you come.”
She nodded. The ropes groaned at her wiggling around, but they would hold.
“One!” she screamed when the first strike landed. “Two!” An angry red stripe appeared above the first. By the time he’d reached five on the inside of her right leg, the welts were lined up all the way up toward her knee.
“So good.” He ran his thumb over her clit, and she sighed at the sensation. “See, reward for doing good.” He licked the pad of his thumb and again rolled her swollen clit beneath it, driving her even closer to an edge he would deny her from falling over.
The tapping of the cane on her left thigh made her tense. Her foot flexed, and he could see the muscles in her ass harden. “Soften. Don’t tighten up on me.” He tapped the edge of the cane to her pussy until she complied. “There you go. Just five more, and then I’ll let you come.”
“Yes, sir.” Her chest heaved up and down as she controlled her breathing, and he noticed a thin layer of sweat glistening on her skin. “One.” She groaned as the second landed, and by the last strike she was nearly sitting up. A tear slipped down her cheek, and h
e leaned over her, licking it off and kissing her lips.
“So beautiful,” he whispered between powerful kisses. “Now your reward.” He kissed her chin, then the valley between her breasts. He moved to her nipples, giving each a soft kiss and a hard nip before making his way down her body. She glanced downward at him, and he gave her a slow wink before descending onto her clit, circling his tongue around the swollen nub.
Again the ropes cried under the strain of her pull. He heard her suck in breath as he worked his mouth all around her sex, nipping at her labia, sliding his tongue up her slit and flicking her clit. He circled her opening, pulling her lips further apart but never entering her, even when she tensed and began begging.
He ignored her pleas and continued to slowly torment her. When his tongue reached her opening she’d try to arch up, to take him inside of her and he’d move away, focusing on her thigh or her labia again. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispered, nibbling at her thigh with short sharp bites.
Blowing gently across her clit, he grinned when she trembled from the sensation. Her entire body melted into the bed, into his hands. He cupped her ass, pulling her up to him, as though he were about to drink the finest of wines and put his mouth over her clit. He suckled her, licked at her, and she moaned and writhed beneath him.
“Please! Please, may I come?” she screamed. He shook his head in response, and she pulled on her restraints even harder. “Please! I have to. Please!”
“Not yet. I’m not done playing.” He moved his hand so that his thumb rested against her tight bottom hole. Again she tensed. “Relax, it’s just my finger.” He pushed inward, feeling the rim give as he pushed up to his first knuckle. “I bet that feels even better.” He wiggled his finger in her ass as he continued to suck and bite at her sensitive clit.
“Fuck! I have to come. Please, sir.”
“Okay, you can come. But only once, Erin. If you steal a second, there will be discipline.”
She nodded her agreement, and then threw her head back. He pushed his thumb all the way into her ass, and sucked her clit hard. If he had any neighbors that were close by, they would have heard every syllable of her screams. He couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying, but he understood the general meaning.
He licked her gently, easing her down from her orgasm before he removed his thumb from her asshole. When she stopped wiggling and was attempting to catch her breath he placed a chaste kiss to her clit and stood up.
Her glossy gaze met his while he rolled a condom over his cock. He wished he could feel her, truly feel her when he fucked her, but they hadn’t had that discussion yet. The tip of his cock rubbed over her clit, and he smiled when she moaned. “Sensitive little clit, huh?” He rubbed harder and enjoyed the sight of her wiggling again. When she looked close to finding her own release again, he pulled back and lined up his cock with her wet opening. “Only one, remember. No seconds today.”
Bradley thrust his shaft so deep into her passage, his balls slammed against her ass. The heat still simmering in her cheeks from the flogging mirrored the hot cream of her pussy. He groaned, pulled back and shoved hard into her again, stretching her. “So fucking tight.” He growled with satisfaction.
He pulled back and Erin groaned in protest just before he slammed into her again. And again. Bradley set a firm rhythm, pounding into her with little regard to anything other than the pleasure he drove them both to. She cried out with his thrusts, but each cry was for more. The girl wasn’t going to come again, but she wanted her fill of him. Who was he to deny her.
“Fuck.” He grabbed her thighs, his fingers digging into her flesh as he drove into her unrelentingly. Her pussy dripped around him, grabbing him and pulling him into her. She ached for another orgasm, he could feel the walls of her cunt clenching him, readying for another explosion.
He pulled out until just the tip of his dick nestled inside of her. He alternated between deep, hard strokes and short, soft ones that left her writhing in frustration and dragging him to his own end. When his own torment became greater than hers, he pushed her legs even further apart and let himself take what he’d been waiting all day for.
For the second time that evening, he found himself grateful that no one lived within earshot of his house. He bellowed out his release. His orgasm tore through him, bursting his insides and leaving him without any air. The harder he plowed into her, the more intense his orgasm became. Once he was drained, every drop of his come pulled from his body, he lay limp over her chest, resting his face between her breasts. Every time he fucked her, the same happened. He tried to make her a gooey hot mess and in return she managed to do the same to him.
“Bradley?” Her whisper pulled him to the present.
“Yeah?” Forcing himself up, he held himself up on his arms, hovering over her face. She grinned, her eyes still glazed and happy.
“My wrists are getting a little sore.” She looked up to where her hands were tied together. He followed her gaze and checked out her hands. The coloring was still good.
“Do you think I care?” He huffed and kissed the tip of her nose. Her smile didn’t waver.
“Yes. I think you do.”
He pinched her hip. “Brat.” She gave him a pleasant squeal before he lifted off of her and began to untie her. Once all the rope was off, he rubbed her wrists and her legs until she assured him she was fine.
He cleaned up, putting everything way and putting on his jeans. “I meant what I said, Erin. No meeting Jonathan alone, and if you get another envelope you call me right away.”
“I already agreed to that.” She rolled her eyes.
“Did you really just roll your eyes at me?” He held the buckle of his belt in his hands stopping mid buckle.
“Yes.” She grinned. “Do you want to spank me?”
“Insatiable wench.” He shook his head and finished buckling his belt. “When I get my strength back, I’m going to paddle your ass raw. You don’t like that paddle, I know.” It was his turn to grin when she blanched at his statement. She might like spankings, but any sort of wood implement made her want to run.
“You don’t have to do that. I’m sorry.” She knelt up on the bed and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a coy smile. He shook his head.
“You think you can make me soft?” Her hands ran over his head.
“I don’t want soft. Not from you.” She reached up and kissed him. A gentle, sweet kiss that had just as much effect on him as if she’d grabbed his cock. It wasn’t just a kiss that said I want to fuck you. It was a kiss that said “I really like you.”
And damned if that didn’t mean even more to him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Erin found herself being glared at over the breakfast table on Thursday morning. She’d woken up a little early and made breakfast, as she did every morning. But she had also gone to his workout room. That’s where he had found her, running, or rather walking as fast as she could without running, on his treadmill. When he questioned her what she was doing, she had said she was working out. Duh!
It took him all of three seconds to get her naked and begging before she told him exactly what she was doing. She wanted to be more fit. Like him. She knew she wasn’t ugly, but she wanted more tone, to be able to handle a sterner bondage like she’d seen in some of the movies she watched. He hadn’t laughed, but he had given her nipples a few tweaks over the fact that she found herself lacking in any way. The tweaks drove her arousal through the roof and before she could cultivate an excuse he had her bent over the weight bench and fucked her hard until she screamed from two orgasms that fully exhausted her.
“Do you not want me to use the weight room?” She poked at her scrambled eggs.
“You can use any room in the house.” He sipped his coffee, still glaring.
“Then why are you looking at me like you can’t decide if you want to strangle me or beat me?”
“No decision needed there. Beat you. Every time.” He flashed a grin, then went back to glaring.
She put her fork down and turned on him. “What is it, Bradley?”
“Are you going to stay away from Jonathan?”
“We already talked about that,” she reminded him.
“Yes, but agreeing with something post orgasm, isn’t really an agreement. Now, tell me the truth.”
“I can handle Jonathan. I don’t need you to do that for me.” She picked up her plate and brought it to the sink. She needed to get to work early, get the new color scheme over to Sean.
“That’s what I thought.” He sighed.
“Bradley, the week’s almost up,” she said quietly, facing away from him. The more she thought about it, the worse she felt, but she didn’t want to continue playing like they were in a real relationship when they both knew it was just a fling.
“Yes, it is. You’re right.”
“So, we don’t need to pretend, okay? I mean, I’m not going to be able to finish everything with the house in the next two days, so I’m going to have to deal with Jonathan.” She rinsed off her plate and placed it in the dishwasher.
“Why do we have a time limit?” He was sitting in his chair, looking as dangerous as ever with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised. The clear blue of his eyes struck her as the sunlight peered through the window. The man was beautiful, even when he looked at her with such fierceness.
“We set one.” She closed the door to the dishwasher and set the timer.
“If we set it, can’t we reset it?”
“Bradley, I have to get to work. Can we talk about this later?”
“No. You won’t want to talk about it then, either. You push it off hoping it will just go away. Like you do with the house and Jonathan. If you just avoid those issues they will disappear.”
How did he manage to do that? Every time she set up a wall, he just flicked his wrist to knock it down.
