Page 59 of Betrayed

“I was going to get out my tripod and show her a suspension.”

Arturo chuckled as she moaned, needing relief, not more sensual Shibari demonstrations.

“I don’t think she’s gonna make it,mon ami.”

Jonas looked at her then grinned as he nodded to Lexie who wore the same dreamy-eyed expression. “Believe me, I understand. She’s been mydoreifor over a year and each time is like the first time, explosive.” He slid his hand over her long, dark-blonde, golden-streaked hair as she whimpered. “And heaven help me if that ever changes.”

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Arturo said as he lifted her in his arms.

“Take these,” Jonas insisted as he held out a pair of rounded-end scissors. “Never use rope without a pair.”

“Yes,sensei,” he said with a grin as he accepted them.

“Good night,” their host had called even as he turned his attention back to his own lovely rope sub.

Upstairs in their room, he set her down on the end of the bed and reached for his bag. He withdrew a suede flogger. The tails were soft and sensual and not really made for pain. It was a surprising tool for a sadist’s bag. Then she found out why.

“I can think of nothing except lashing your bound breasts.”

“Yes,” she moaned.

“We’ll go slowly since you’re already swollen and sensitive.”

A light stroke brushing over one breast felt like a thousand prickles on her skin.

“Oh god!” she cried out.

“I thought the ropes and the constricted blood flow would make it more intense.” He lashed her again, on the other side. Then he fell into a pattern: right, left then a sharper snap across her belly.

“Sir, please,” she begged, not sure if she was asking for more or to stop.

Soon he was in a rhythm,whoosh,whoosh,splat, and the pattern repeated then again and again. Her body was alive with sensation, loving the pleasure and the pain, but needing to come.

“Arturo, please. I need to come now, sir. I don’t think I can bear much more,” she sobbed.

He stopped, and she groaned in frustration.

“Patience,ma colombe.” His hand came around the back of her neck. “Lie back.”

He had to help her, tucking a pillow under her head and shoulders to ease some of the pressure on her hands still bound behind her back. He bent her knees until her feet rested flat on the bed. Then he ordered, “Spread your legs.”

Her eyes snapped to his and, seeing the intensity there, she let her knees fall apart as far as they would.

“Good girl,” he murmured in approval, as he began working the flogger again. Slowly, he stroked it over her inner thighs, the initial snap of the flails followed by a slow drag of the lash on her skin. Her hips arched, wanting the same perfect attention on her pussy and clit. Feeling she’d go mad if she didn’t come soon, she arched her hips, offering her rope-bifurcated pussy in blatant invitation.

He obliged with a light slap of suede low on her belly. Then he let it slide slowly, following the path of the rope down over her mound and between her thighs.

“Sir, please, let me come.”

“You may come when I say,ma soumise. And tonight, that won’t be until I’m inside you. Be patient a little longer.”

The flogger fell in a similar stroke, maybe fractionally harder, but it repeated with the same sensual glide over her swollen, juice-drenched flesh. “I can’t wait,” she whimpered as the sensation dragged her close to the edge.

“You will,” he replied as the lash fell again, distinguishably harder this time. He was cruel to torment her so.

“Sadist,” she cried.

“Absolument. And you love it.”

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