Page 82 of Point of Contention

Pain bloomed in small spots all over my body. My outer thighs. My stomach, hips. The underside of my arms.

And I’d never been more turned on.

My pussy wept more with each smack of leather against my skin, clit throbbing with need. My stomach clenched, the coil of desire tightening almost painfully. I felt full, swollen between my legs, as if I might burst if he didn’t finish me off soon.

I lost count of how many times the leather met my skin. My breathing was heavy and loud in the room, only interrupted occasionally when the smack of leather against skin broke the silence, or I moaned low in my throat, the sound almost guttural as pleasure immediately followed every lightning strike of pain.

He dragged the end of the crop over the unmarked flesh of my inner thigh and my eyes opened wide. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them. Holding my gaze, he gave a curt nod, then lifted the crop and brought it back fast against my inner thigh.

“Ahh,” I moaned as pain and lust warred within me, a confusing mix of sensations.

I shuddered as a wave of pleasure burned through my belly, rolling over me as he smacked me a few more times. “Please,” I whispered.

“Please what?”

I looked up into his eyes, panting as I said, “Make it stop.”

“You have a safe word for a reason, Ms. Blake.”

I groaned, then tightened my lips into a line.

Cabot chuckled, the sound deep and sexy in his throat. “Make it stop, my love?” he said as he leaned close enough that his breath tickled my cheek. “I’m only just getting started.”

I sucked in a breath, then blew it out in a whoosh when he whipped the leather against the inside of my thigh again and pleasure sent a shockwave to my clit.

“Christ,” he said, bringing his hand between my legs. “Look at you. So fucking wet.” He brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them in one long pull.

I whimpered.

“Lavender?” he asked, a challenge in his eyes.

I clenched my teeth and pulled in a deep breath through my nose, lifting my chin. “No, sir. Comfort level is still at a ten.”

Cabot smirked, then grabbed my jaw and licked across my lips. “Good girl.”

I leaned forward to chase his mouth when he pulled away, but he only smirked, shaking his head. “I’ve wanted to touch you for weeks, Rylan Janine.”

I shivered at the sound of my name on his lips.

“You needed time,” he said.

Did I?I wasn’t so sure anymore. Maybe I, too, was a sadist.

No, a masochist. Someone who punished themselves for pleasure. Except that being without him had been far from pleasurable.

“Do you still want to punish me?” I asked.

His nostrils flared. “More than you’ll ever comprehend, my love.”

I wiggled my arms, tugging at my restraints. “Take me down. Punish me.”

His lips curved into a sardonic smile, but instead of obliging me, he dropped the crop and unzipped his pants to free his cock. Maybe he’d decided to reward me instead.

He stepped between my legs, then fisted himself and dragged the thick head slowly through my wetness.

I murmured incoherently as my orgasm raced right back to the surface, so close but just out of reach.

He slid his free hand up around my throat, lifting my head so I couldn’t look at the beautiful weapon between his legs, then he slid his two middle fingers into my mouth and curled them around my teeth, holding my mouth open as he teased me again with the tip of his cock.

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