Page 47 of Lord of Debauchery

“To hell with you.”

Her response delighted me as everything else about her did. I brought the tawse down four times, making certain she felt every single strike. While she wiggled and moaned, cursing under her breath, she was holding her own. I was very proud of her ability to remain where she was.

I took my time, pacing the room and building the anticipation. Two full minutes passed and I sensed she was getting antsy.

“Get on with it,” she barked.

“My terms, sweetheart.” I could tell she was ready to spout off some crap to me but thought better of it, instead burying her face into the comforter.

My attraction to her was more intense than before, the need to consume every inch, to lick her luxuriously not something I was used to needing. But as with everything else about the beautiful woman, she simply caught me off guard far too often.

I brought the strap down again. And again, taking just a few seconds to brush my fingertips across her already heated skin. The warm pink marks wouldn’t remain on her skin but for so long, just enough time that sitting would be very uncomfortable for a little while. I caressed one side then the other before striking the tops of her thighs three times in rapid succession.

Now she kicked out, sucking in her breath. She was blinking rapidly, so much so I could tell she had tears in her eyes. “You will… never do… this to me… again.”

“I guess that depends on your ability to follow the rules. Doesn’t it?” I might be a sadist, or at least I had been in my playboy days, but I found myself wanting this to be over with. Why? Because I wanted to fuck her like some crazed wild animal.

I continued the strapping, trying to concentrate on what I was doing when the scent of her desire was making it nearly impossible. Very few women got off on being punished. Then again, she wasn’t like any other woman I’d ever met.

One strike, two and three and my hand was itching to drive my fingers deep inside her wet pussy. Her swollen lips were glistening even in the ridiculously dim lighting. I hated keeping her inside this room, but lessons learned were very important.

Or so I continued to tell myself.

I’d lost count but decided on four additional cracks of the tawse, one coming immediately after the other. When I was finished, I was surprised to find a single bead of sweat rolling down the side of my face. Certainly not from exertion. I almost laughed as I rubbed the bead between two fingers.

“We’re finished,” I told her, tossing the tawse across the room. Hurting her wasn’t something I wanted to do. Wasn’t that the strangest aspect of all?

Kenya thumped down on the bed, burying her face as she’d done before but I could hear her cursing still, which gave me a huge smile. She even pounded her fists on the bed for emphasis before finally rising onto her hands, struggling to get to her knees.

I stood in the same place trying to catch my breath, raking both hands through my hair. Shit. It was even a little damp at the scalp. What the hell?

In yet another surprising move, she dropped her head before issuing a hard kick to my gut. I was shocked not only by her audacity but also because the fucking maneuver hurt like hell. I was pitched backward, my leg colliding with the small table near the chair. Down I went hard and fast, the wind knocked out of me.

My little fighter was suddenly like some ninja, pouncing on me with the agility of a pro wrestler. She was smiling as she tried to beat me in the face, her eyes lit up like firecrackers. Nothing should shock me around the girl any longer, but this had.

I managed to grab her wrists, barely preventing her from punching me in the face.

“Not so fast, little girl.” I rolled her over, pinning her to the floor where she grinned like some crazed woman. But true to form, she was stronger than she looked, wrapping her legs around mine and rolling us back in the opposite direction. She kept her knees cinched against mine, yanking my arms over my head as I’d done to her before.

Her long hair stroked my face, her luscious lips all I could think about. She lowered her head until our lips were almost touching. “You will never get the better of me, sexy man. I am your match.”

“One made in heaven?”

Her laugh was throaty, deep, and the kind that tightened my balls. Oh, yeah. I would fuck her until standing wasn’t a thought in her mind any longer.

She hovered over me, blowing several swaths of hot air, acting as if she’d won a round. I couldn’t allow her to have all the fun, managing to free a single arm, fisting her hair at the scalp and forcing her to kiss me. The moment our lips were crushed together, she did her best to slip from my grasp.

But the electricity, the burning connection we felt won over as it had done before. Suddenly, we were both frantic to take control, the woman pushing her tongue into my mouth. However, she would soon learn that I would never take a backseat to anyone, no matter how beautiful or beguiling.

As the kiss became more explosive, I rolled her over once again, grabbing her leg, lifting and bending. She squirmed in such a way tremendous friction was created, my cock throbbing in need of relief.

I finally got control of her mouth, even sucking on her tongue. She managed to moan into the heated intimacy, no longer fighting my hold. She rolled one hand over my shoulder, tangling her long fingers into my hair. The closeness was real, the power of our draw to each other more than just gasoline on a series of flames.

It was possibly life changing.

Who the hell was I to even think that way?

We continued rolling across the floor, her playfulness returning. When she was on top of me once again, I allowed her to push my arms over my head but forced our fingers to intertwine. My hold was just as strong as before, only different.

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