Page 84 of Disturbed Lucidity

“Promise?”

“It’s a fucking guarantee,” he said, releasing me. “Now, are we done pretending? Can we go back to what we know?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

My fingers toyed with the leather cuffs around my wrists that held me off the ground. No matter how much I squirmed, the cuffs held me firmly in place. Writhing, I cried out in need as the whip stung a trail across the tender flesh of my back.

I gasped.

My flesh was so tender, my back arched without conscious movement on my part while jolts of electricity shot through me. My raw nerves pulsed in receding waves of agonizing ecstasy.

He held the braided whip expertly before delivering another short, stinging stroke. The heat of the sting seared across my brain.

A slash across the other side spewed a whimper from me. My throat was raw from screams that ravaged my throat. Pain spasmed up and down my back. The overloaded sensation drove my muscles to the brink. A dozen more strokes, each with exquisite precision, left sharp red tendrils crisscrossing against my back as my pussy clenched, forcing cum down my thighs.

He lowered the whip as his mouth bit my neck.

I moaned. The heat of his body soothed a painful ache I couldn’t shake. The scorching heat of his mouth pulsed through my body like a roaring furnace, fueling my desire to offer my breasts as an invitation for his mouth and tongue.

I moaned and writhed.

The pain I felt was almost too much to handle, a constant ache that refused to subside.

“Please fuck me.”

His mouth latched onto a nipple, causing a jolt of pleasure that almost made me scream. The desperate, vicious need for more grew while he continued to suck and bite my nipple with increasing intensity, heightening the agony.

I felt his hand glide smoothly along my sides, the gentle pressure leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. Confidently, his hands traversed the expanse of my body, exploring every curve and contour, their movements leaving a delicate, sensual trail. His fingers definitively probed my body, completely dispelling the ethereal sense of disconnection I felt with my tormented body. His firm and confident touch left a lasting impression on me. He compelled me to experience every sensation, from the warmth of a gentle touch to the sting of a harsh word. An insatiable desire consumed me as I returned to my tortured corpse.

Before I could make sense of anything, he unhooked the cuffs, throwing me on the bed, face down. His hands settled firmly on my hips and yanked me back toward him. My face pressed gratefully against the cool sheets, but my breasts protested anything touching them. Aching, even against the soft surface.

His thumb circled my tight asshole.

He didn’t wait as a hard slap stung my ass, causing me to squirm. I inadvertently pulled away. He growled, yanking me back, hitting me again. This time, his grip was firmer. There was no escaping. He applied more pressure to my tight hole. I whimpered and received another hard slap. He grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. He stretched my neck as he tightly gripped my hair.

Leaning over my back, he sneered, “I’m fucking this ass tonight, one way or another.”

My back arched, searching for relief.

It was only when he reached between my legs and pinched my clit that my body relented and succumbed to his demands.

The sudden filling made me groan with pleasure as I felt him sink into the base. His palm resting on the underside of my ass. He shoved and jerked, nearly lifting me off the bed while he used my body for his own pleasure.

He pushed deeper into my ass while he physically lifted my body, pressing my face and my breasts harder into the mattress as he reached around and shoved three fingers deep into my pussy, while his thumb vigorously rubbed my clit.

I screamed and the dam burst, and I finally felt myself falling into the torrent of pain. Floating in the stinging sea of torture, I relished the agonizing tenderness of torment as he pounded deeply into my ass, unrelenting and unforgiving, while I drifted off into nothing.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Luc

Sitting in my chair, my hands wrapped around a hot cup of coffee, I tried to listen as Mouth droned on and on about the state of the club, from housekeeping to a future food run. It was the first of the month and it was the only time Mouth joined us for the early morning briefing.

Typically, the fucker flipped us the one-finger bird and went about his day. Mouth was the odd man out. An officer, but not. The go-between for the officers and the enlisted brothers, Mouth, was good at multi-tasking, a jack of all trades, but preferred managing the clubhouse and the Plebs.

“Disturbed Desires is ready to reopen. The Plebs did good work, and Saint was able to interview and hire new dancers.”

“Who’s manning the bar?” Frost asked.

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