Page 42 of Interview with a Sadist
My cock jumps again, my balls tightening at the admission.
“You want me to choke you?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“You want me to hit you with more than just a flogger?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to spit in your mouth, drag you across the floor, wrap your hair around my fist and pull until your neck feels like it might snap?”
Her eyes widen. “God, yes.”
“You want me to fucking hurt you?”
“Yes,please.”
I raise one of her arms and slam it against the floor again. “Goddamn it. You don’t know what you’re saying, Bree.”
“Then fucking show me,” she bellows, causing me to freeze, a deep furrow in my brow as I’m overtaken by shock. “I don’t want to hold back anymore. I don’t want to hear anymore. You want my consent? You have it. You said you owned everything in this room including me, then fucking own me. Do it, Nolan. Show me everything and let me decide for myself if I can’t handle it. I don’t know why I need the things I’m craving, but I know you’re the only person I trust to show me what this is. I don’t want to meet another supposed Dom and spend time figuring out who they are and if I trust them. It’syou, Nolan. I wantyouto do it, and I don’t want to wait another fucking second. Please. For the first time in my life, I’m able to be honest with myself and say this out loud—I need it, Nolan. Whateveritis, Ineed it. All of it.”
My heart pounds so hard it rattles my insides. Blood rushes through my veins, filling my ears with noise as I stare at her. She’s so fucking beautiful, so new, so delicate. I could break her if I do too much … and she wants to be broken. No, she wantsmeto break her. She has chosen me.Me—the monster, the Dominant, the sadist.
So be it.
ChapterTwenty-Five
~ NOLAN ~
With Bree’s hands pinned above her head, I let down any remaining walls I still had raised before this moment. Hearing her tell me she made a choice about who she wants to introduce her to pain crumbled every barrier I had left, and now my desires are free to reign. Now I no longer have to think. There is no plan that gets hammered out before I act—no, I’m my best when I improvise.
I let my eyes roam over Bree’s body, taking mental snapshots of the places on her that I want to touch—the places I want to turn red. Her black shirt is still intact, blocking my view, and I’ve never hated fabric more. I need unfettered access to her skin, so I bring her hands close together above her head so I can hold both of them with one of my hands, while I use the other to tear at her clothes. Adrenaline fills me to the brim as I untuck the shirt from her skirt and pull it up enough to finally see her navel.
“Fuck,” I whisper. Her skin is so beautiful it hurts me to see it. My desire to mark her becomes so intense that it’s actually a pain in my stomach that pulls a groan from my throat.
I pull Bree’s shirt up until it bunches underneath her chin, before snatching her bra off, the fabric tearing in multiple spots as the clasp goes bouncing somewhere unknown. She lets out a yelp from either excitement or fear, and I slam the torn bra over her mouth.
“Don't say anything,” I command, leaning forward until my mouth is directly next to her ear. “I’m only going to say this once, so don't forget it. Your safe word is and always will begoddess, just like last time. Nod if you understand.”
She nods, and I sit up, straddling her. “Good girl,” I say, before I reach back and slap her across the chest, instantly reddening her exposed breast. Bree chirps behind the makeshift gag of her bra, and I close my eyes to soak it in. The sound of her fearful moan excites me in a way I can’t explain. I’m an addict gifted with a fix after far too long without it. My entire body comes to life as the fog of Dom space entangles me, giving me the ultimate god complex.
“You are music to my fucking ears,” I say, before slapping her chest again, hitting both tits with one swing this time. Bree chirps again, but this one sounds more pleasure-filled, which makes me even harder.
“That’s it, Princess,” I say, staring down at my prey. “Embrace it. Let the pain consume you. Give in to it. Bathe in it and let it soothe you. Relax and trust me. Your body is mine and I will make sure the bruises remind you tomorrow.”
I smack Bree across the chest a third time, and when she screams, I lunge forward and press my mouth against hers, swallowing the sound escaping her throat through the fabric of the bra in her mouth.
“You taste so fucking good,” I whisper into her mouth, the bra working like a filter to my words. “I've wanted you since the first second I ever saw you, and now I’m going to show you who I am, Princess. Stay here and don’t move. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she replies, her words muffled by her bra, but I don’t remove it as I get up and walk into the bedroom, leaving Bree on the living room floor with her shirt under her chin and her bra in her mouth.
I walk into my closet and head straight for the cabinet inside, where I grab a condom, nipple clamps, handcuffs, and a wand vibrator, which has become my favorite tag team partner. Real men understand that toys are not your enemy. When your ego is removed from the equation, sex toys are the enhancement of a lifetime, because no matter how much I wiggle around, my cock can’t vibrate. But, it can fuck with every thick inch I’ve been gifted with while this wand massages her clit without needing to catch its breath. This wand is my best friend, and when I combine it with toys that cause pain, there’s no stopping us. My toys and I are the most awesome gang in the world, and we’re about to cause chaos once again.
When I step back into the living room, I’m ecstatic to find Bree in the exact same place I left her—her hands still above her head, her bra firmly in place between her jaws. She’s obedient, and I fucking love it. I kneel next to her, pulling her up with one hand and removing the bra with the other until she’s sitting upright, staring at me with hunger in her blue eyes. The look on her face has a stranglehold on me, and I end up kissing her without intending to. The softness of her lips and the warmth of her mouth send me reeling, making my cock ache with hardness.
“God, what is it about you?” I ask once we pull away. She doesn’t respond with words, but I feel the passion floating off of her, combining with my own. I kiss her again, but as our mouths dance this time, I use my hands to position her arms behind her back, where I secure the cuffs.
Part of me expects her to pull away when they click closed, but she doesn’t. Bree simply watches me, trusting my every move and waiting patiently. She may have gone her entire life without acting on her desires, but she was made to be a submissive. It’s stitched into the fabric of her skin and shows itself in the way she looks at me—waiting, wanting.
