Page 22 of Wild Card

Jen lowered her head between her arms. The pose, so submissive, also felt completely right. “Thank you for the clarification, Sir.”

“Sir?” Another satisfied vibration from his chest. “So that’s how it is, hmmm?”

“Is there…a problem with that?” She finished by subtly wiggling her ass, though it was no small feat. With his hand sweeping back and forth across her cheeks, spreading the heat of his first swats, it was all she could do to be coy. She needed more of him, so damn badly. Needed him to touch her in other places…illicit places…

“Not a problem at all.” But while his voice approved, he pulled his hands away. Bafflement struck, but only for a second. A fresh wave of arousal took over—as Sam reached to a control panel embedded in the bed’s footboard. After he pushed a button, the mattress began to raise up—but only beneath her legs. She would’ve laughed aloud, if the action didn’t heat her sex in a hundred new ways. A control number bed, the D/s version. Was there any end to what the Nyte’s creators had dreamed up in the way of kinky delights?

The next moment, even that cognitive thinking was ripped away. Sam dug his hands into her hips, centering her lower body against the hump. Power radiated off his fingertips as he flowed them in, spreading heat across her buttocks.

A gasp burst off her lips. A growl curled off his.

“Fuck. Me.” His hands splayed, kneading her flesh, warming her skin all over again. “So bloody beautiful. So pink and sweet. But it needs to be red.” His touch roughened. “Your ass needs to bear my mark, girl.”

Jen’s senses rolled. Her balance tumbled in the magic of his voice…the spreading heat from his possessive touch. “Yes,” she heard herself rasp. “Yes. Mark me…”

He snarled low again. “Ask it properly. I want to hear that pretty word from you again. ‘Spank me, please—”

“Sir.” She filled it in for him. Eagerly. Longingly. “Yes. Oh yes, Sir, please. Spank me. Mark me. Oh!”

The exclamation took over for any more coherent words, as Sam lowered a thwack across her ass. While her flesh stung, her mind careened. Logic taunted, just out of reach. There was a reason she wanted this so badly, especially from him, but did it matter? All she wanted right now was his touch. All she needed was his dominion, full and consuming and perfect. Sam. Sam. Sam. For this moment, for this time, she only existed because of him. Through him.

Another spank. Unleashed power. Reverberations of pain.

She screamed. Or maybe just dreamed it.

“Red light if you need to stop, mouse. I’m only just beginning.”

She rolled her hips, letting the sting spread and dissipate. The tingles down her legs and through her sex…were incredible. “Don’t stop. Please, Sir.”

“So certain.” Why did his voice suddenly sound weird? Almost…wicked? “So sure.”

The answer came with a resounding crack—though the next impact to her ass wasn’t from his hand. It was the harsh stroke of leather, in the middle of her left cheek. As Jen struggled to summon a scream, another whoosh whipped the air. She took in the musk of the leather—before pain chomped into her right cheek. When he rained another blow to her left, the shriek finally manifested. The right again. Back to speechlessness, fighting to accept the agony that would soon bring ecstasy. Or so she hoped.

She was already tempted to call red light, when Sam’s new growl filled the air. She’d never heard a sound like it. Deep. Dark. Dripping with carnality. Coarse with need. “I knew the crop would love your ass, darlin’. Knew that your skin would take my marks so perfectly.” Another rumble, twice as entrancing as the first, flowed as he whipped her again: two more blows on each stinging cheek. “Take it in, sweet Jenny. These memories in your skin…take them into your spirit, too. Twist them inside of you. Weave me inside of you.”

She sighed. “You’re already there.”

“Not deep enough.” He emphasized with another two strokes. “Let the pain open it deeper…then pour me inside the crack. Let me into the places that mean you’ll never forget me. That mean you’ll never think yourself unworthy ever again.”

More smacks. More pain. More spaces, so far inside, that cracked open and flooded with the adoration, strength, and majesty in his voice.

More of herself…surrendered to him.

More of the composure she could no longer hold together.

His passion set her tears free. They burst on messy sobs, and she didn’t care. A vision danced across her mind. She was five or six, twirling in the front yard with a “wand” made from a stick and some party streamers. She was magical and perfect…so many years before the world began to tell her she wasn’t. Before she became the dork, the brain, the geek, “the weird one”.

Now, she danced in the light again. Streamers of pleasure and pain blew across her senses. The beauty of it was…intense. Blazing. Blinding. And everywhere in that heaven, there was Sam. Always Sam. Now leaning over her, brushing back her hair to collect her tears with his kisses. Pressing against her, so his heat and strength permeated her body. His satin vest caressed her back, his wool kilt scraped her ass…and teased further between her legs. As if she needed a reminder of how her body craved him as much as her soul did.

“So beautiful,” he murmured. “Damn, Jenny…how beautiful you are to me.”

Sensations continued to bombard. The streamers morphed into other images. They turned into his sinewy form, body rolling as he’d pushed into her, in his room fifty floors above. The teasing swipes of his kilt against her pussy were more instigators, making her tremble. And still, she sobbed in the throes of the breakthrough he’d given her. Which way was up? And did she care? She only knew she longed for more. Needed it like her next damn breath. Needed him.

“Sam. Sam.”

“I know, darlin’. I know.”

She whimpered in protest. He didn’t know. She needed more of him. All of him…

A crinkle of foil serrated the air. The kilt didn’t abrade her ass anymore. There was furnace heat…and the push of a steely knob at the cushions guarding her intimate tunnel.

“I need to fill you.” He prodded in a little more, circling his hips to stroke every sensitive edge of her entrance. “Will you have me inside you, Jenny? Will you let me fuck your perfect little cunt?”

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