Page 51 of T is for…

Then he lifted the crop, and with a flick of his wrist brought the tip down right on her nipple. Sharp precise pain and a dark, taboo pleasure burned through her already abused nipple.

Tara shrieked, trying to back up, but he was holding her by the tit. With terrifying precision, Nathan did it again. Swinging the crop out to the side, then snapping it forward, the shaft parallel to the floor. The motion of his wrist might have been small, but thanks to physics—fucking physics—the end of the crop was moving fast. The flat pad of folded leather snapped against her nipple.

Pain pulsed and spiked through her, the sensation now unequivocally pain. She couldn’t hold still but also couldn’t move. Couldn’t get away from him.

Three more times he cropped her helpless nipple. Tara’s nipple felt like it was on fire, the pain so intense that she was crying softly and almost ready to ask him, tell him, to stop.

After the fifth strike, he leaned in and kissed her nipple softly, then soothed it with a single swipe of his tongue.

Then the merciless man switched to her left breast.

Once more, he petted and stroked her taut, flat nipple with the crop. Knowing what was coming, how much this would hurt, make the waiting worse.

He snapped the leather against her helpless flesh, the short, sharp sound preceding the stinging pain by a fraction of a thought.

Tara cried out, then clenched her teeth, her sex pulsing both in time with her heartbeat and in sync with the strikes of the crop.

Three more times he cropped her nipple, relentless and deliciously cruel.

“Last one. Then you’re going to come for me and show me exactly how much you like being played with like this.”

The final word, spoken in a low voice that was both familiar and foreign, had barely faded before he snapped the crop against her nipple one final time.

Tara screamed, a sound of pain and wild frustration.

There was a soft clatter as the crop hit the floor, and then his hands were on her. His fingers stroked and soothed her burning nipple before pinching gently as his other hand tangled in her hair, holding her head still for his kiss.

He claimed her mouth the way he’d claimed her tits. Her mouth belonged to him. This was savage and demanding compared to the last kiss. He still tasted faintly sweet from the hard cider, and she could tell herself the alcohol was why her head was spinning.

His hand abandoned her breast before tracing patterns down her belly, his hand finally sliding between her legs.

Desperate, Tara stepped wide. She knew she was a hot, sloppy mess. Knew he could probably feel the heat radiating off her pussy even before his hands made contact with the slick latex gusset.

Nathan’s fingers traced the seam of her sex, pressing the latex between her pussy lips. Deep enough that his blunt fingertips bumped over her clit.

Her hips jerked, pleasure spiking through the lingering pain. She was so aroused that even with the muting effect of the latex, his touch was almost painful.

“You’re hot for me,” he growled in her ear. “Are you wet?”

“Yes, Nathan, yes,” she whimpered.

He dropped his head into the cradle of space made by her neck, shoulder, and raised arm. Between her thighs, one blunt finger slid away from her clit toward her entrance. He pressed up, fingertip forcing the latex tighter between her pussy lips. Almost as if he would force the material into her.

The latex tore with a pop, and his thick finger jammed up inside her, the penetration shocking and sudden.

She gasped, back arching.

And she came.

Hours of being disciplined and played with had brought her to the edge, and having him tear through her latex panties and drive that finger up into her was enough to push her over the edge.

Tara bore down, teeth clenched as the orgasm caused every muscle in her body to tighten. Her pussy clamped frantically on his finger, which felt shockingly thick and yet not thick enough.

The pleasure was almost its own pain—the release of tension like having a skilled masseuse dig their fingers into a muscle knot and force it to relax.

With the pleasure ebbed, she went limp. She relaxed into the post-orgasm relief, but it was short-lived. Her body still throbbed with need, and she had the horrible thought that she might never get enough of Nathan’s touch.

That she might spend the rest of her life wanting him.

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