Page 11 of Bound By Mistake
What I need to do - fast - is somehow work out how I handle all this, so I come out the other side with my mind and my sanity still intact.
Chapter
Seven
ERIK
Ihad my doubts when Gray told Cain and I he’d found this company and proposed we club together to play out our deepest, darkest, most deviant fantasies in real life.
I mean, come on. Fantasies are one thing, but they’re just that - fantasies. Bringing them to life - especially the primal and very brutal nature of ours - seemed like it could go one of two ways.
Spectacularly wrong, or a huge disappointment.
Sure, we’d discussed our darkest desires… usually just shooting the shit over a couple of beers after a hard day. But living them?
No, I’ll admit I didn’t think it could be done.
And yet here we are, and so far, the reality is outliving the dream in a way I never thought possible.
This girl -fuuck!
If I ever tried to put a face and body to my fantasy, then she’d be it. And I know, after this weekend, hers will be the face I’ll see every time I jerk off in the shower to one of my favorite depravities.
I watch her struggling against the ropes, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. The fear in her eyes is intoxicating, sending a thrill through my body. Part of me wants to savor this moment, to draw out the anticipation. But a stronger, more primal urge is taking over.
I step closer, drinking in every detail of her trembling form. Her skin glistens with a sheen of sweat, her breasts poutingly plump and darkened by the rope binding them. I can see the fear she very excellently portrays but mixed with her acting skills is the hint of arousal she’s desperately trying to hide.
My mind is spinning with all the possibilities. “What should we do with you first?" I murmur, trailing a finger along the juicy swell of her breast, then viciously twisting one tempting nipple. She flinches at my touch but can't pull away.
Gray and Cain move in closer, their eyes dark with lust, and I can feel the energy crackling between us, the shared hunger for what’s to come.
"I say we make her beg," Cain growls, his voice husky with desire.
I nod slowly, a wicked grin spreading across my face. "Oh, she'll beg alright. But not yet. First, I want to take my time exploring every inch of that gorgeous body… with my whip.”
I reach for the leather tawse in my bag. It’s not quite the bullwhip I would have preferred, but there simply isn’t enough room within the confines of this cabin to wield it. Of course, I’d known that coming in. Even with a fantasy there have to be compromises, it seems.
Still, I relish the feel of the implement in my hand and what I’m about to do with it. The girl’s eyes widen as she tracks my movement, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. We still don’t have a name for her, but right now, that just adds to the fantasy. We’ll torture it out of her later, but currently, I like the anonymity.
"Please," she whimpers, her voice enticingly hoarse. “You don't have to do this."
I chuckle darkly, letting my demons out to play. "Oh sweetheart, I know I don't have to. But Iwantto. You have no idea how much!”
With a flick of my wrist, the tawse’s forked tongue kisses her skin, leaving a faint pink mark across her ribs. She yelps, more in surprise than pain, since despite everything in the very detailed file we’ve been given about this woman and her pain threshold, I’m not the kind of person to go all in without building things from my own experience. Striking again, harder this time, I watch her reactions carefully, the way her body jerks against the ropes.
"That's it," Gray murmurs, moving a little further away to give me a clear range to brandish my weapon of choice. "Make her dance for us, Erik.”
I oblige, falling into a rhythm. Each strike elicits a new sound from her - gasps, whimpers, and eventually low moans, which she seems to be fighting to hold back. Her skin blooms with colors and patterns, a blank canvas of sensation.
I pause, shaking out my whip hand and adjusting my rock-hard cock which is becoming uncomfortable within the confines of my jeans, even though I already undid the buttons.
Cain takes the opportunity to explore for himself, his hands roaming across her body, pinching and teasing. "Look how wet she's getting," he growls, swiping one thick finger through her folds. "Our little slut is loving this."
I stop for a moment, my breathing heavy as I admire my handiwork; getting off on the flushed skin, crisscrossed with double pink welts from the tawse. Her eyes are glazed, tears clinging to her lashes. But there’s no denying the way her hips rock, subtly seeking friction.
"Is that true, pet?" I ask, gripping her chin and forcing her to meet my gaze. "Are you enjoying being our plaything?"
She shakes her head frantically, but her body betrays her. Sliding my own hand between her thighs, I find her slick and swollen.
