Page 48 of Blackmail
No, as in no I won’t tell him to stop. He pulls away, though. There’s a pause before he moves again.
The still air in the room seems saturated with tension as he takes his time, deliberately touching every inch of me. There’s a teasing fingertip at my hole, there and gone far too fast for me to push myself back against it the way I want.
“Dammit, don’t do this to me.” Which I realize, like my no before, could be taken either way. There’s a sizzle up my spine at the realization.
He’s stroking my inner thighs now, though, hitting a ticklish spot behind my knee that has me moaning like the whore I am, and also giggling like someone I’ve never been. I’m writhing. Moaning. Desperate for more.
God, I can feel my heart thumping and pounding against the desk.
Speaking of thumping and pounding. “Are you going to fuck me?”
His lips caress my ass before his teeth sink into my flesh. “Is that what you want?”
Just to be contrary, I throw him another “No.”
“No is not the magic word, Simon.”
Oh, God. I’m just… I’m a giant ball of need right now. Desperation. My ass is tingling with the memory of his hand coming down on me until my skin burned. Of his thick cock pounding me until I couldn’t feel anything else.
I want that again. I want the heat. The oblivion. I know I shouldn’t, but I fucking do.
The only answer I hear from Sebastian is a harsh exhale. Then the jingle of his belt, which he coils up and lays on the desk beside me.
“I want you to use that on me.” I swear to God I don’t even know what’s coming out of my mouth anymore. Somehow, my sense of self-preservation has left the damn building.
He reaches for the belt. “You want me to use this? On you?”
“Yes. Just…not on my back. Please.” I haven’t allowed anyone to whip me since the night my father caught me and Elijah in that old barn. Haven’t actually let anyone use anything to beat me until now.
“Please what?”
“Please, Sebastian.” Those two words make my skin tingle.
When the first bite of leather comes down on my ass, the breath whooshes from my body. I spend the next several minutes trying to get it back as he lays a series of stripes on one side and then the other. Then at the tops of my thighs. Heat and a pleasant buzzing race over my skin.
It’s like this every time with him. The world washes into a heady, floaty place as I sink into the sensation.
I’m not sure when he stops. I lose count of the strikes. Only the press of his lubed fingers into my ass, stretching me so roughly, reach my consciousness. Each time he brushes my prostate someone moans and whines. That someone might be me.
Maybe I really do have the devil in me, because the next thing that flies out of my mouth is “No. Don’t.”
The fingers withdraw. His hand palms the back of my neck. Breath fans my ear. “Do you want me to stop, Simon?”
“Don’t do this. I changed my mind.” I wiggle and squirm. My entire body pulses with the excitement and the so-wrong-it’s-rightness of this moment.
Please, please don’t stop.
“I think you’re being a tease. Is that what this is? You’re teasing me?”
“No, no. I don’t want to. Please don’t fuck me.” I’m so, so careful not to say stop.
We need a better safe word. Except no, we fucking don’t. That would imply we’re doing this again.
This is the last time.
I swear.
Finally, his fingers slide inside me again. My agonized groan is made louder by its accompanying sigh of relief.
