Page 22 of Bared Betrayal
“Good girl.”
There’s a gush of heat between my legs when he says those words, and I try to squeeze my thighs together.
“Why shadow, sir?” I’m already out of breath, and we haven’t even started yet.
He runs the cane down the length of my spine, and I arch my back. “Because you are light, and there is no light without shadow. One cannot exist without the other. And that’s why you’re here, aren’t you? To find your shadow.”
My chest rises and falls, the cane smooth against my skin. “Sir, what if I’m the shadow? What if I’m searching for the light?”
He presses his lips against my naked shoulder, his hair soft against my neck. “Then you’ve come to the wrong place.”
I can hear him behind me, and I tense. I know what’s coming, but I don’t know how I’ll react to it. My reaction is my complete undoing. The cane snaps smartly against my ass cheek, and I moan in surrender. Saying my safe word doesn’t cross my mind. I feel safer than I have in six years, maybe ever.
As the sting of the cane dissipates, a rush of adrenaline surges through my body with a burst of white-hot pleasure.
“Does this feel good?” The words have a double meaning for me. He’s making sure I’m okay with this, but he’s also taunting me. And I love it.
Euphoria settles over me as the cane slaps my ass once more. “Yes, sir.” My response comes as naturally as breathing, and I hear him curse, and the cane lashes across my ass again.
“Fuck,” he groans, and I glance to the side. He’s gripping the cane in one hand and adjusting his cock with the other while his gaze drinks me in. “If only you could see how beautiful your skin is stained with pink.”
The pain is sweet; the burn searing my skin reminds me that I’m alive. Is this what I’m after? Is this what I’ve been searching for all these years? To feel alive? To feel like I’m not fucking dead inside?
“More, please, sir,” I say, needing to feel that sting again. And he obliges with two more lashes, my thoughts racing, yet my mind simultaneously empty.
I gasp when he presses his naked chest against my back, the heat of his skin like silk to the abrasive desire that’s consuming me. He reaches for my breasts, rolling my nipples between his expert fingers as he flexes his hips, his hard cock sliding up and down my ass. I don’t know when he took his clothes off, but I know I want to feel more of his body all over mine, his skin gently caressing me while my ass stings and burns.
“Sir, please,” I plead as he dips one hand down to between my legs, his fingers prodding at my wet slit. I stifle a desperate whimper by biting my bottom lip as he rolls his fingertip over my clit, sending bolts of electricity up my insides. I’m sure I’m about to come when he steps back, robbing me of his touch. His heat. His intoxicating scent.
Hunger grows.
Desire rages.
And my body burns for him.
He moves in front of me. His naked body is contoured with sculpted ropes of muscle, his shoulders threaded with power, and limbs thick with strength. It’s as if God Himself carved every inch of this man with precise detail. As if he was born for pleasure. My pleasure.
The prominent V branching from his hips leads to his hard cock glistening with precum, daring me for a taste.
He’s so close, his breath brushes along my hyper-sensitive skin. My legs start to shake as he slips the cane between my legs, the tip of it stroking my swollen pussy. “You want more, little one?” he says, now dragging the cane down my inner thigh. His voice is low, husky, yet cocky because he knows I want more. This is part of the game we’re both here to play.
A moan escapes my lips as he takes a nipple in his mouth, teasing his tongue along the beaded flesh. I’m nothing but sensation, trembling with need. “Do you…” he flicks his tongue against my nipple, “want…” and again, “more?”
“Yes…sir.” A tear escapes. I have no idea why it’s there. Desperation? Desire? Respite?
He leans in, sliding his tongue along my cheek, and laps up my tear. “Your sadness tastes fucking beautiful.” His lips slam against mine, consuming me with a fiery kiss that robs me of air, and I moan into his mouth as he cups my pussy, slipping a finger inside me. The pressure between my legs builds, his thumb finding my clit, forcing desperate gasps from my lungs. I’m about to come. I’m about to fucking explode. But he steps away, leaving me panting and aching.
“You come when I tell you to. Do you understand?” The growl in his voice leaves no place for debating. It’s not a request. It’s a rule.
I nod, craning my neck as I try to regain control. A lash lands loudly on my skin.
Another follows.
And another.
And another.
The cane continues to sing through the air, landing against my thighs and ass over and over again.
