Page 59 of Going Deep
“There we go,” he murmured and pulled both thumb and fingers back. He added more lube, then his thumb slid deep again. Hard. Once, twice, before once again pulling free.
She panted, empty and wanting and ready to beg to have him back inside her. Her hips were undulating against the bench, her bound legs keeping her from getting enough leverage, enough friction, to bring relief.
“Easy, Ginger,” he cautioned. “You’ll get what you need.” And she felt the pressure return to her backside.
She whimpered, opening to the pressure, the pleasure, then froze. It felt different—softer, thicker. This wasn’t his fingers. Her eyes flew to his to find him watching her. “Just a butt plug, darling. Nothing to worry about.”
Was he kidding? She drew in a breath to protest, then lost it when he seated the plug in one smooth push.
Her mouth opened, but no sound emerged. The amazing sense of fullness was sweeping her away, fuzzing her mind and setting her loins to throbbing. Her asshole fluttered, little nerves firing as her body tried to get used to the intrusion. Her cunt was clenching on nothing, distressingly empty. Her clit felt tight and so sensitive she imagined she could feel the air brush against it.
“Now, that’s pretty,” he murmured. “You’ve got a gorgeous ass, Ginger. And it looks even better plugged.”
His tone of voice, so dark and rich with lust, made her cunt clench hard, and he laughed when she blushed. “Oh yeah, you like it when I talk dirty to you.”
He bent again to his bag, and she felt his hand slide under her tailbone. “Lift up a little, Ginger,” he told her, and she struggled to obey. She felt something slide under her butt, tilting her hips up and pushing her legs back even further.
“There, that’s just about perfect,” he said, and she looked down.
Her butt was pointing almost straight up, the backs of her thighs parallel with the ceiling. Before she could react, he slapped one butt cheek.
Pain burst through her, the sharp sting fading to a lovely glow that seemed to settle in her clit. The impact shifted the plug in her ass ever so slightly, and all those stimulated nerves shimmied awake.
Before she could do anything—moan, cry out, breathe—he hit her again on the other cheek. Sting turned to heat, heat to lust, and every nerve ending in her backside danced.
His low laugh reached her ears. “Yeah, that’s going to work.”
And her mind swirled away.
Michael forced himself to breathe. Had to force himself not to climb on top of the bench and ram his dick into her open cunt and pound away.
He drew a deep breath, but its calming effect was somewhat diminished, because he could smell the spicy scent of her arousal.
Jesus Christ. Get a grip, O’Reilly.
He bent to his toy bag. He’d only used his hand on her butt until now, and he wanted to see how she dealt with a paddle. The one he chose was long, but only about five inches wide. Made of wood and covered in leather, it had a nice, balanced weight, and made a delightful smacking sound when applied to bare flesh.
He stepped slightly to the side so he’d be able to see her face and have a clear path to her ass. Her eyes were closed, her face flushed a deep rose color. Her lips were pink, quick breaths puffing in and out. Her breasts were quivering with each one, the nipples dark red and tight. And her cunt…her cunt was wide open, her clit fully out of its hood and begging for attention. She was so wet she glistened.
The butt plug was doing an excellent job of keeping her right on the edge, and he made a mental note to discuss further anal play with her later.
Right now, he had an ass to beat.
He aimed the first hit so it struck both buttocks and the base of the anal plug. Her hips jerked, and a high, wild cry spilled from her lips. He checked her breathing, the flush on her cheeks. When he rubbed his hand over the red stripe on her ass, she moaned. When he slid his fingers up to dip them into her swollen pussy, the sound she made was more of a whine, and her hips tried to pump up into his hand. Oh, yeah.
He slid his fingers up and over her clit before stepping back and raising the paddle again.
Oh God, she needed to come.
She’d lost track of time, of space, of everything. The blows rained down on her upturned ass, but she no longer felt the pain. Instead, it felt as though every blow drove right into her pussy, feeding the hunger, the need. Her whole body felt heated, swollen, so sensitive that the faint kiss of butterfly wings would have the impact of a baseball bat.
Her eyes were closed, a kaleidoscope of color swirling behind her lids. She could feel her pulse beat in her ears, her fingertips, the slick and swollen labia that begged for his attention.
She jolted when the paddle hit her ass, her breath leaving her lungs on a moaning sigh. Her pussy clenched with the blow, her anus contracted around the plug, and she moaned again. She felt as though every cell in her body was straining upward, the need to orgasm overcoming everything but the most basic of instincts. Nothing else mattered anymore.
His hand slid up over her cunt, swirling around the opening once, twice, before moving up to her clit. She stiffened as he circled it gently, sliding up one side, then the other. Her head tossed, mindless with need, the roaring in her ears blocking out sound. She sobbed, frustration and need pouring out as all her defenses crumbled.
The fingers on her clit shifted, rolling right over the tight ball of nerves firmly, just as the paddle hit her ass. Once, twice, right over the base of the plug, and with a hoarse cry, she went over.
