Page 24 of Vicious

The lashes slow down after what seems like forever, a small eternity passing between each one as I stiffen and relax, again and again, until I understand that going lax makes the blows much easier to bear.

It makes them more pleasurable, too.

I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but the press of pleasure-pain is something that threatens to overwhelm me in the same way the spanking had. I don’t understand it, but I can’t help but squirm as my body flushes hot and… and aroused.

I wait for the next strike, but something drops to the ground with a clatter, then I have Chase pressing up against my back. His hands trace the welts, pushing down on them, making the pain bloom, while he kisses the back of my neck.

“Fuck. Fuck, you’re so beautiful, May,” Chase murmurs, grinding his erection against my ass.

I try to shake my head, but I’m dizzy and sluggish, and the hardness of his cock is more appealing than disgusting. Fucking hell, what’s wrong with me? It almost feels like I wouldn’t mind having him touch me, but that’s ridiculous. “Take me down,” I manage to whisper after a moment in a voice almost too hoarse, too garbled, to understand.

“Not yet,” Chase says. He backs away, and I hear him undo his zipper. When he pushes against me again, it’s with his hard, hot cock directly against my skin, sliding over my ass. He grips my hips and forces me to tilt my ass upward.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “No, you can’t— I’m not—” Why can’t I think? My thoughts are so muddled, all over the place and difficult to follow, and I can’t make sense of them.

Chase reaches down and runs a finger between my folds, making me cry out in what should be discomfort but instead is so much pleasure I can barely stand it. “Fuck. You’re so wet. It’s such a fucking waste.” He groans and pushes his cock between my ass cheeks, thrusting insistently.

I whimper, craving more even though I don’t understand why, even though it doesn’t even make sense. Why is my body doing this to me? I’ve found comfort from pain before, even fleeting hints of pleasure, but nothing that would make me react like this.

He uses my inner thighs to pleasure himself, and I can’t help but be jealous of the fact that he’s receiving so much pleasure while I’m practically vibrating with the need to do something about my own desire.

But no.

I don’t really want it. I just… don’t know what to do about this ache.

“Should I risk it?” Chase asks with a groan. “Do you want me to fuck you anyway?” He thrusts harder, and his cock slides across my pussy.

There’s a part of me that wants to say yes, and I don’t recognize it. I don’t understand it. It’s not me.

But I can’t help but want to feel him inside of me again, for all that I’m never, ever going to admit it.

“No,” I rasp.

Chase’s breath is hot against my neck, but he doesn’t speak any more as he fucks against my pussy. I can’t even close my legs to try to deter him, or egg him on. All I can do is brace myself against the cross and feel: his erection, his hands, the smooth wood against my chest, the pain of the welts and the way it spreads across my back, the way it flares up every time he moves…

I shudder, biting my lip hard as I struggle not to make nonsensical noises—or worse, encourage him to do more, to just fuck me, safety be damned, and that’s just not like me. The realization should be enough to knock me out of this state of mind, but it’s not.

It’s a good thing I don’t have a free hand, because I’m so aroused that I think I might try to touch myself—which is a hell of a realization to come to, since that’s not something I do.

Chase suddenly grips me even harder, and his thrusts become erratic. I bite my lip, tensing because I know what’s about to happen. He groans loudly, and I feel a splash of something hot against my thigh.

My breath draws in sharply, and I dig my fingernails into my palms as I struggle not to acknowledge my overwhelming disappointment. It doesn’t make sense, but then, none of this does. I don’t know how he could whip me like I’m an animal, only for my body to react, then for me to want him to fuck me… It just makes no sense to me, yet all I want is for him to reach around and touch my aching clit.

I will never, ever beg for it.

As though he’s in my mind, though, he caresses my hip before his hand dips down to my groin. He parts my folds and starts to slowly massage my aching clit. I let out a startled cry, my hips thrusting forward for a split second before I stop myself.

I won’t debase myself again. I refuse to.

My body doesn’t listen to my mind, though, and it takes a pathetically small number of touches to my clit for me to come.

Chase sucks on the back of my neck for a moment, hand stilling on my clit as I shudder from the force of my climax, before stepping away. My back suddenly feels freezing cold, and my cunt is aching.

“Fuck. That was…” Chase trails off. I can’t see his expression, and I can’t decipher his tone. But he finally reaches up to undo the manacles binding me to the cross. I didn’t realize how tired my arms are until now. My fingers tingle as blood rushes back into them.

Chase massages my wrist, then kisses it, looking me directly in the eyes as he does. I shiver, swallowing thickly, and look away.

“Hold onto the cross while I release your ankles,” he says.

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