Page 57 of Break the Ice
“I’m sorry,” she chokes out as if barely able to put the words together. Slightly louder.
I snap. So does the crop. It flicks against her bare pussy for yet another strike. It lands right in the center, the first of several.
The crop comes down in three fast, hard strikes. Three slaps that Marisse twists and turns against. Screams tear from her throat for.
“I’m sorry!” she cries out. Her eyes clench shut.
“What did I tell you?”
The leather kisses her pussy in another brutal swat. Her lips are engorged, swollen and tender. They’re shining, dripping with her arousal.
She shakes in the bed restraints, forgetting what I’m saying. She keeps her eyes closed and breaks another rule.
So I dole out another spank. Then another ’til she’s chanting her apologies, arching her spine as if to break free. But she never does—she’s trapped where she is, under the constant and cruel lash of my leather riding crop.
She’s shaking, delirious and dewy, babbling nonsense.
“I’M-SORRY-I’M-SORRY-I’M-SORRY!”
Her eyes open, heavy-lidded and drunken, meeting mine. She’s panting as I unleash the last round of spanks.
On her greedy, glistening cunt. The inside of her thighs. Her flat stomach and perfect tits.
I decorate her body ’til her honey-brown skin glows with the faintest streaks of rosy red. The crop falls from my grasp, and I wedge my hand between her thighs, feeling the swollen, puffy flesh that’s her pussy lips.
Even after the lashes have stopped, she’s shaking. She’s a mess, panting and staring up at me like I’ve awakened something inside her.
I grin and rub her hot, quivering clit. “I’m starting to believe you. You’re really sorry.”
“Rafe,” she moans. Then she tips her head back and yanks at the binds.
I’ve just done what I’ve been thinking about since this began—I’ve buried my face in her cunt for a taste of her. I suck her clit into my mouth, and she goes wild. Her taste soaks on my tongue.
Unique to her. Enough to make me come.
I almost do, lapping at her. I stroke her soft, quivering thighs and spend the moment worshipping her pussy with my mouth.
She’s hot and slick, throbbing against my tongue. She’s as close as I am to coming undone. An orgasm I almost give her.
Not yet.
I force myself to rear back, aware my beard’s coated in her juices. I couldn’t give less of a fuck. The taste of her pussy’s on my lips, lingering on my tongue. I lower my boxers and pull out my huge, hard fucking erection.
Marisse goes still as if hypnotized. I stroke myself watching her watch me.
“I can’t wait to feel you, Sugar,” I groan. “Squeeze my cock as tight as you can with that cunt. Get your fucking revenge all you like. I’ll be getting mine too—if you think that cunt’s swollen and sore now, just wait ’til I’m done with you.”
“How about you stop gloating and fuck me already?” she demands.
I’m grinning as I bend over her and my hand collars around her throat. I take her lips in a deep kiss. We’re pulsing with anticipation. Fused together, burning from the same white-hot need. The heat’s become untenable. It can only be put out one way.
I cage her in with my body hunched over hers, burying my face in the crook of her throat.
Kisses and bites.
The gentle salt of her bare skin as I suck on the base of her throat and finger her pussy. She arches into me in pleasure, still bound by her restraints.
My arousal surges. It becomes the most urgent matter in the whole fucking world—sinking balls deep into Sugar’s uptight little cunt and finding out firsthand if it’s as sweet as I think it’ll be.
