by Eden Bradley
He kept on with the brush for what felt like a long while, until she was in an almost meditative trance. Her skin was really burning now, absolutely on fire. And she was floating; her head, her body. Her eyes fluttered closed.
His scent brought her around enough to take in what he was saying.
“I’m going to really whip you now.”
Marcus couldn’t believe how incredibly responsive she was. She shivered at the mere sound of his voice! He loved it, that he could affect her in this way. She would make a perfect slave with a little training.
Not your slave.
No, but he could borrow her, as he had tonight. He knew already it would never be enough.
She was panting hard as he unbuckled the cuffs which held her to the table. Her glazed eyes were a gorgeous flash of green fire. The front of her body was crisscrossed with fine red welts. Beautiful. She let out a quiet moan and his gaze moved to her mouth. Her lips were a dark pink. Soft, tender-looking.
Kissable.
Restrain yourself. Impossible to kiss her here, where Robert could walk in at any moment.
Instead, he went about the task of getting her to sit up, then to stand, so he could move her to another area where he bound her hands in black leather cuffs, then clipped them to a heavy golden chain hanging from one of the crossbeams on the play structure.
Concentrate on the task at hand.
Difficult, when the task was Cassandra. When he wanted to kiss her, to hold her in his arms, every bit as much as he wanted to spank her. When his mind was whirling, wondering why she made him feel this way.
Focus.
He checked her bonds to make certain they were secure, then left her for a moment and bent over the leather bag on the floor that held his equipment. He found the three-foot-long single-tail whip he wanted. From what his uncle had told him, no one had used such a toy on Cassandra yet.
Nothing like virgin flesh. It was always an honor, and frankly a thrill, to be the first to do something to a new slave. Even more so because it was her, the first woman ever to enchant him. He knew on some level he was dangerously out of control when it came to her. But he was not going to pass up an opportunity to play her.
He held the whip in his hand, ran his palm up the slender length of it. Black and wicked-looking, the single-tail was a high pain toy. It delivered a unique sensation that started as an intensely sharp sting at the point of contact, then slowly spread outward, so that the effects of each strike took a full minute or two to ride out. He normally would use it only on a more practiced bottom, but he had a feeling she could take it. He was rarely wrong. And he wanted to give her that extreme sensation experience. He wanted to give her everything she desired.
He moved around behind her, coiled the single-tail in his hand, then flicked his wrist. The whip snapped in the air.
Cassandra jumped.
He smiled. He could see the goose bumps rising on her flesh already.
He moved in, laid a hand between her shoulder blades, felt her shiver beneath his touch. Christ, her skin was like pale satin. The skin here was almost as silky as the slick folds of her hot little pussy. His groin tightened just thinking about it, remembering the texture and the scent of her, his fingers buried inside her.
He said quietly, “This is going to hurt quite a lot.”
Again that silent shiver from her.
“You’ve already been taught about converting the pain. But this will be a real test, this whip. It’s called a single-tail, or a snake whip. In the end you’ll have a burst of endorphins like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You’ll never forget this little toy. I’ll take you through it. You will follow my direction. Do you understand, Cassandra?”
“Yes…Sir.” Her voice was a breathy whisper.
He came around to the front of her body. Her eyes were cast down. He lifted her delicate chin in his hand, as much as he could with the posture collar on. Her eyes were still glazed, unfocused. He could see she was deep down in sub space. Her features were so sweet, so innocent-looking in comparison to her lush body; the full breasts, the curve of her hips.
But it was her mouth he kept going back to.
He leaned in and kissed her. Just a small brush of lips against lips. But it went through him like a shock.
Christ.
She hadn’t even kissed him back. But he felt like he’d been slammed in the chest with a sledgehammer. This girl did something to him…God, he couldn’t stand that she could never belong to him.
He was angry with himself suddenly. Angry that he seemed to be unable to resist her. Unable to behave as a proper Dominant should. With respect for another man’s property, at the very least.
Fuck.
He stepped back, ran a hand through his hair.
He was here to give her what she needed. That was his job. But who the hell was he kidding? She was here with him because he wanted her. Her, Cassandra. Plain and simple. And devastating to his way of life if he didn’t get himself under control damn quick.
Just play her, damn it.
He pulled in a lungful of air, pushed it out on a harsh breath. He took another step back, moved around behind her. Lifted his arm and swung.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CASSANDRA FLOATED ON A CLOUD OF SENSATION, completely inside her own head, yet acutely aware of every inch of her own skin. And just as aware of Marcus, standing behind her. His scent filled her nostrils, swam through her body, saturating her system.
There was no conscious thought; she had no control over her body anymore. She was a being of pure desire, of want, of need. And no matter how he touched her, hurt her, it was never enough.
She had heard his warning, had trembled with the desire to feel that pureness of pain he was promising her. But she was too far gone to even tense in expectation.
The blow came, a lancing sting that almost felt as though it had cut into her skin.
“Take it, Cassandra. Breathe into it. Yes, inhale, exhale.”
She did as he said. The sting intensified, became so razor-sharp she had to pull in a gasping breath.
“Yes, good, keep breathing. Follow my voice.”
The pain moved, spread, through her buttocks, her legs, her torso, through her breasts in an aching stab of pleasure. Her sex pulsed in response, keeping beat with the pain thundering through her body in a hammering rhythm. It was almost too much, nearly unbearable—yet exactly what she needed, had always needed.
“Feel it, Cassandra. Move with it. Move into the pain.”
Impossibly, the sensation increased. She groaned.
“Breathe, my girl.”
His hand curved around her body, came to settle on her belly. And with his touch came a roar of fiery pleasure, exploding in her head, in her flesh. She trembled with the force of it, her sex clenching. When his hand slipped down between her thighs and pressed into her clit, she came hard, harder than she had ever thought possible. Pain and pleasure combined, fused, burned through her in a molten torrent.
Her mind slipped away and everything went black.
It must have been only seconds before she opened her eyes and found Marcus staring into her face. It was another moment before she realized he had her chin in his hand, one strong arm holding her waist.
She was suffused with gratitude and with the aftereffects of orgasm. She felt loose, weightless, and filled with a great, inexplicable pleasure.
“Ah, there you are. Back with me.”
His smile was like the light of heaven to her. She smiled back.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.
He reached out, stroking her cheek, and she realized he had removed the tall collar that had held her so firmly in its embrace. She turned her head into his palm and kissed the soft flesh there. She couldn’t help herself.
“Ah, Cassandra.”
Nothing but pleasure hearing his voice like this, feeling his hands on her body, her face. And then the strangest thing happened. He was kissing her face, small, fluttering ki
sses over her cheeks, her chin, her eyelids, and finally her lips.
Her heart twisted, surged with longing. To touch him, to be with him, to feel him inside her body. She didn’t understand everything he made her feel. She couldn’t think now.
He tasted like wild honey.
When he pulled away she was panting with an entirely new kind of need his kisses had stirred in her. Unfathomable tears stung her eyes.
He was watching her.
“What is it, Cassandra? What do you need?” His voice was so gentle it hurt.
She could only shake her head, mute.
“Then I will have to figure it out.” He paused, searched her face. “I will figure you out. I will come to know you inside and out, until I know everything about you. Every dark secret, every moment of yearning.”
He was speaking so quietly she wasn’t sure he intended for her to hear him, for her to answer in any way. She stood quietly, waiting to see what he would do next. Happy to be in his presence, under his hands, under his care. She would accept anything this man did to her right now.
She was more than half in love with him, but it was more than the things he did to her with his hands, with the wicked little single-tail whip. It was the thoughtful way he looked at her, as though he really were trying to figure her out. It was the sharply planed, male beauty of his features, the graceful way he moved. It was that one precious conversation, and the way he spoke to her when she was under his command. He was the first man who truly cared what went on in her head. Irresistible.
She tilted her head to see him better and felt the soft brush of her own hair across the back of her shoulders. A small shiver went through her.
She wanted more. She wanted this to go on forever. And just as she was thinking it, he reached out and swept one hand very slowly down the front of her body, beginning at the hollow of her throat, over her rib cage, her belly, stopping just above the triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs.
She sighed, lowered her eyelids, let her head fall back, taking in the sensation of his hand on her flesh. Blood rose to the surface of her skin, as though to meet his touch.
“I want more of you, Cassandra. Now. Tomorrow. Next year. But all we may have is tonight. And since we are not alone here, I can’t have you the way I really want you, in my bed, in your body. Will you take what I can give you here? In the only way I can feel you in my arms?”
She lifted her head and nodded. She couldn’t help but smile. She was as happy at this moment as she had ever been in her life, even though she wasn’t sure if, or when, she would see him again. She understood his loyalty to his uncle, understood her own loyalty to Master Robert. But she couldn’t bear to think about that now. It was too complicated. For now, she would take what she could.
“Please, Sir…”
He reached up and unfastened her wrists. He was pressed right up against her as he worked the metal buckles free. She could smell him, the manly scent of sweat, a little musk of arousal along with that woodsy fragrance he wore. She inhaled deeply, trying to pull something of his essence into her lungs, to keep him with her.
He led her to a low, velvet-covered bench and immediately pulled her over his lap. His thighs were strong and hard beneath her stomach, her breasts pushed into his steely flesh. She loved the crush of his body against hers, wished he were as naked as she was. Before she had a chance to settle in, he smacked her bottom with his hand. One hard rap, quickly followed by another. Hard slaps coming one after the other, so quickly she couldn’t catch her breath in between.
It hurt. But as always, the pain morphed quickly into pleasure, so that it was no longer pain, except that it was, in a way she could never explain to herself. She wanted it, craved it. And even as she surged into his hard, loving hand, she squirmed to escape.
Soon she was panting, barely able to keep up with the pace he set. The slapping never seemed to stop, to pause even for a moment. But the pace itself forced her to become lost in it, in the pain, in the desire flooding her sex, her breasts, her mind.
She heard herself panting, moaning, over and over. God, it hurt. She was drowning in a pool of sensation. She needed to come.
Finally he stopped. She heard his ragged breath. It matched her own. She groaned her need one more time.
He turned her over with oddly gentle hands until she was cradled in his lap. He ran his hands over her shoulders, her arms, her thighs.
His voice was rough, husky, still breathless. “I want to hold you, Cassandra. I want to spank you some more. I don’t fucking know what I want anymore. What have you done to me?”
He gazed into her eyes. She was too far gone to understand what she saw there. His expression was pained, his eyes almost black. He blinked hard. Reached out to touch her hair, pulled back. The intensity of his gaze was making her heart ache.
Finally, he shook his head. “Damn it, Cassandra,” he muttered.
Her heart fluttered, stalled in her chest. Had she not pleased him?
“I don’t know what it is about you. You make me lose control. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be doing this. The more I touch you, the more I need to. And you are not mine.” He paused, shook his head. “We’re going to stop right here. Now. I’m handing you back over to Master Robert.”
“No!”
Marcus had his hands on her shoulders, ready to bring her to her feet. That one word stopped him short. He was shocked. By her refusal to go back to her rightful Master. By the way he was feeling about her.
He watched her face, searched her emerald eyes. She was deep down in sub space, must be after all the play she’d had tonight, especially the single-tail. Yet somehow she was right there with him. He hardly knew her, but the look in her eyes lanced straight into his heart.
“You don’t know what you’re saying, Cassandra.” His mouth was so dry he could hardly get the words out. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Yes, I do.” She paused, biting her luscious lower lip, then, “I want to stay with you. Please, Sir.”
He shook his head.
She whispered, “Please let me stay with you.”
Her words ripped at him. This situation was impossible. But his desire for her had turned into a sharp, aching need. There would be no turning back.
She was warm in his lap, light and supple and utterly yielding to him physically, even if she was talking out of turn, going against the most basic rules set down for a submissive. But he wanted her to speak, to hear her voice, to know what she had to say.
He must be losing his mind.
She was still staring up at him with glazed, green eyes. Her pale cheeks were flushed, her full mouth a delectable pink. The curve of her breast was pushed up against his arm, right at that point where the cuff of his sleeve had fallen back. He could feel the heat of her skin against the back of his wrist.
He wanted to touch her, too badly. That was the whole problem, wasn’t it? This girl was irresistible to him, in every way.
“Please,” she murmured again, curling more closely into his chest, then tipping her head back to look up at him.
Her lips parted as she took in a sighing breath. He thought he saw a mist of tears dampen her eyes. He couldn’t stand it any longer. He bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers.
She opened for him immediately. He’d meant it to be a brush of lips, just to taste her. But as soon as he felt the whisper of her sweet breath in his mouth, all reason left him. He plunged into her; that was the only word for it. She was all wet sweetness on his tongue. She was kissing him back, fervently, eagerly, so full of heat he could feel it through his clothes. Her body was absolutely on fire. And so was he, on fire with a bottomless need for her.
He pushed farther into her mouth, twined his tongue with hers. She was squirming in his lap, panting beneath his lips. Hell, so was he. Like some kid making out for the first time. His groin tightened, filled to bursting. He’d never felt so out of control.
Control. Hell.
He pulled back regretful
ly. He was supposed to be in command here, damn it! And he was definitely out of control, way out. He’d never let things go like this before, never with anyone else. But he didn’t want to stop. He had to have her. Whatever the cost.
He stroked her hair, looked into her eyes once more. She was totally gone, caught up in desire, in the chemicals surging through her body. But was it really him? Or was it the setting, the play, the pain and pleasure he had given her tonight? He had to find out.
“Cassandra, listen to me.” He held her face in his hands. Her cheeks were like warm, flushed silk in his palms. “I want you to come and be with me, alone, at my house. Not tonight. Another day.”
“Yes. Please, Marcus! Sir,” she added.
Her face held a blatant expression of urgency. He would choose to believe it for now.
“I am going to call you at home next week. We’ll talk about it. Do you understand what I’m saying? Why are you crying?”
“Because I can’t wait until next week.”
God, he could hardly stand it. She was so open, so vulnerable. Vulnerable, yes. Was he taking advantage of that? Perhaps, to some extent. But that’s why he would call her during the week, to talk to her when she was in a more stable state of mind.
And when she is not in service to Robert.
Yes, that too. He knew he was doing something very wrong, on several levels. She did not belong to him. He had no right to poach on his uncle’s territory. His own flesh and blood, for God’s sake!
None of it mattered right now.
“I need to take you back to Master Robert now.”
She started to shake her head, but he stopped her with a firm hand on her chin.
“I will call you in a few days. I will come to get you if that’s what you want. But now I need to turn you back over to him.”
Before he did something he would regret. He had to get some distance, think this through.
But he knew the only thing that would stop him from having her was if she didn’t want to be with him. He would never force himself on her, not in that way. Looking into her eyes, holding her in his arms, he felt he understood what was in her heart, and he knew already she would never refuse him. Whatever demon possessed him now possessed her, too. They were meant to be together, somehow. And he meant to make it happen. Damn the consequences.
