Page 55 of Mine To Break
He grimaced. “I didn’t think of that.”
“A man wouldn’t.” She scooped out a nice helping onto a dish and set it before him. But no silverware. Eyes narrowed, he watched her as she walked away, back toward the bed. She picked up something but kept it behind her back as she returned. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life.”
She brought her hand forward, holding what looked to be a medieval flail. Long leather straps cascaded off the end.
Instinctively, he tensed, but probably not for the reasons she might suspect. He didn’t really think she’d hurt him. But by God, he didn’t want her to use something on him that she’d used with that red-haired submissive on the show. The one who’d punked her.
“I don’tneedthis. I’m not a sadist. I don’t need your pain to find satisfaction. But I like to warm up a sub’s skin with a little light punishment. It makes the pleasure all the more explosive when we get to it.”
“You like it, then you’ll have it.” he growled out. “But answer me one thing first. Did you give this to Andy?”
Her eyes flared. Holding his gaze, she lifted the flail up to his face. A test of trust? He wasn’t sure. But he could smell the leather, and it brought back that visceral memory of his childhood. Riding horses. Peace. Finding beauty in the sunrises and the gentle lowing from the cattle.
“To my knowledge, no one’s skin has touched this, other than me petting it. Certainly never Andy. Patrick is a consummate horse master who uses only the best. He had this custom made ages ago but never used it, because he fell in love with his whip.” She trailed the leather straps over his shoulders. “Once I saw how soft the leather is, I couldn’t resist. Usually I’d go for a velvet flail on a beginner, but this is soft enough I think it might break you in real gentle like.”
The suede was butter soft and smelled so damned good. “I’ll let you do anything you want to me. I mean it. As long as whatever you use is for you and me alone.”
“Possessive,” she drawled, dragging the straps across his chest to the other shoulder. “I like that in a sub, to a point. So we’re going to play a little game. I want you to eat your cobbler while I lightly and playfully spank your delectable ass. And when you’ve finished your dessert, I’ll untie you and you can have your wicked way with me, any way you choose. Deal?”
“Deal,” he said immediately.
“No worries, no hesitation?”
“None. Not if I get to make love to you when you’re done. I’ll eat it so fast you won’t get more than a handful of strokes in.”
“Fair warning.” Though she didn’t sound concerned or disappointed at all. “Remember you can always tell me red or blackberry and walk.”
He waggled his eye brows, making her laugh. “And we still get sexy times?”
“Of course. But I’d really like you to try.”
Try? Fuck that shit. He’d conquer anything and everybody for a chance to make her smile. He leaned down, mouth hovering over the cobbler. “I should probably warn you that I was first runner up in the pie eating contest at the county fair two years in a row.”
She pressed against the backs of his thighs, draping herself over his back so that his bound hands touched her stomach. She leaned harder against him, giving him time to adjust his stance beneath her to take her weight. Leather trailed light over his skin, her fingers over his flanks. The strokes blended together, become one. Leather slid over his dick, making him shudder.
She let out a husky laugh that made his balls tighten. His dick twitched, already leaking. And she hadn’t even started hitting him yet.
“I should probably warn you, too.” She shifted to his left side, pressing against him so she could whisper in his ear. “Seeing you bent over like this is putting some very dirty thoughts in my head.”
“Yeah?” He ground out, squeezing his eyes shut as if that would stop the images from filling his head too. But it was too late. Having her against his back like that…
She squeezed his ass, the firm grip of her hands, her strength, making his stomach quiver. Leather strands tickled the back of his legs. He couldn’t help but remember the box of pony gear. The tail. Though it wasn’t a fake tail he was thinking about inside him.
“I’m not biting your hand or running away yet.”
“Eat your pie, soldier boy.” Her breath hot in his ear, she gave him the first stroke of the flail. He jumped, but it didn’t hurt. He’d just forgotten about it. “But know this. Someday, this ass is going to be mine.”
Every submissive she’d taken over the years, every scene she’d played, paled in comparison to this. Her fierce, protective soldier boy, tied up, willingly planting his face in cobbler while she spanked his ass. After giving her his vow and his name. After going to his knees. For her, and her alone.
She wrapped her left hand around his cock and gave him another stroke from the flail, slightly harder. Nothing that would truly hurt him, or even make him flinch, for fear of hurting his stomach. Lifting his head, he breathed hard, neck corded with effort of holding back his desire.
“Same rules as before, sugar. Don’t you dare come before that cobbler’s gone and I’m finished with you.”
Each time he started to make a dent in the cobbler, she distracted him with a good, hard pump to his cock. Or a slightly harder stroke to his ass. His skin was starting to turn just a hint of pink. New sensations would be flaring through his skin, nerve endings more sensitive and alive than ever. He wasn’t into the pain itself, but the thought that he’d endure it… That he’d allow her to tie him up, bend him over, and stick his ass up for her to play with…
That he’d be open to letting her peg him…
