Page 39 of Vienna Bargain

Alena took and held a breath, then exhaled slowly.

Crack.

The spoon snapped against her other breast. Pink splotches appeared on the otherwise pale flesh.

Another strike, another burst of sound and pain. She steeled herself to keep quiet, but he didn’t ask the question a third time.

Instead he went to work on her breasts, spanking them with the wooden spoon until they were flushed and aching. The blows started to land atop already abused flesh and the surface level pain sank in, becoming a warm, rough heat. There wasn’t enough slack in the bindings for her to wrap her fingers around the chain, so she curled her hands into fists and let her head drop back.

He began to vary the pattern. A firm slap to the underside of her breast—a particularly painful, wonderful spot—to little taps along the inside and top of the tit.

Through it all he studiously avoided her nipples, which felt terrifyingly vulnerable. She could twist a bit, but not enough to fully avoid the blow if he decided to beat her nipples.

She wanted him to do it. Wanted him to spank her nipples, then bite them and clamp them.

Alexander slid off the bed and Alena whimpered.

“Please, no.”

“Manners.” The spoon cracked against her ass for the first time, enough force behind it that she cried out and lurched forward, though she couldn’t shift very far.

“Master Alexander, please,” she moaned.

“Please don’t spank you?” His fully clothed body pressed against her naked back.

A sigh of pleasure escaped her, air returning to her lungs in a gasp as he brushed her hair aside and nipped her neck.

“Or,” he murmured in her ear, “are you begging me for more?”

“More, please.”

“Where?”

“Don’t make me ask for it,” she pleaded.

“That’s part of your punishment. You’re going to beg me to hurt you.”

Damn it, that was arousing. And terrifying. Which made it all the more arousing.

“I want you to spank my nipples.”

“Want me to hurt these sweet things?” He tossed the spoon on the bed and his hands came up, cupping her hot, aching breasts. His thumbs brushed her nipples, tender and soft.

“Yes, hurt them. Hurt me.”

“I thought you weren’t a serious masochist.” He bit her earlobe.

“I’m not,” she moaned. Then he pinched and twisted her nipple and heat, as quick and destructive as a windblown wildfire, swept through her. “I’m not for anyone but you.”

His hands still on her breasts, he leaned back, not enough to break contact but enough so that he wasn’t pinning her body between his hips and the end of the mattress.

“Another lie.”

Alena’s eyes popped open in shock at the venom she heard in his voice.

She started to object, to explain, but he pinched her nipples, twisting them viciously. She hissed and tried to twist away but there was nowhere to go; she was helpless. Tears stung her eyes as he released her only to once more squeeze her nipples painfully tight, then twist them.

She looked down to see the tip of each nipple nearly white, his grip was so tight. It hurt. He was truly hurting her.

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