Page 50 of In His Cuffs

“Spread your legs.”

“My body feels as if it’s rubber,” she admitted.

He helped her to move, and she was nervous to have the clamps removed. Without any fuss, he removed them and dropped the mean little pieces alongside the tawse. That would teach her to underestimate him again.

“I think you’ve earned an orgasm.”

He laid her down and raised her legs over his shoulders. He placed a pillow under her hips then licked her cunt.

“Mr Tomlinson!”

He pinched her labia where the clamps had been affixed. The flesh was tender and his touch drove her mad. She whimpered and squirmed, but he wouldn’t be deterred.

The leather couch beneath her raw legs and buttocks magnified the agony.

He finger fucked her, licked her, sucked her, pinched her and, when she couldn’t take any more, slid a finger up her tightest hole.

She shattered from the inside out, coming with a hoarse cry as she shamelessly lifted her hips and begged for more.

He obliged, plunging his tongue in her hot moistness then licking her clit.

“I’m going to come again,” she warned him.

He increased his motions and brought her off, leaving her feeling as if she had nothing more to give.

“Let’s get you in the shower so I can see to your bruises.”

Her whole body was sensitised. Her pussy throbbed. The back of her legs and buttocks still felt aflame from his tawse.

His attention to her body wasn’t the worst of it. The way he read her desires—then met them—had pushed her beyond where she’d ever gone before. She hadn’t known she could take that much pain.

What he demanded from her emotionally was something else—he allowed her no secrets. He’d sensed there was something wrong with her when she fired off a smartass reply earlier. His ability to see her upset and hurt disturbed her.

She’d never met anyone like him, and she knew the experience would change her. She hoped she’d survive it.

He scooped her from the couch.

“You can’t do this,” she protested, grabbing on tightly.

“Because?”

“I’m too heavy.”

He looked at her. “I want you to be clear on this, Maggie, I’ve got you. In all ways.”

The reassurance frightened her more than anything.

Upstairs, he deposited her on the bed while he turned on the shower. When he returned for her, he was naked. His cock was glorious in its arousal. She wanted it in her with a desperation she’d never had before. “I am certain I can walk on my own,” she told him.

“I think you’ll do as you’re told.”

He carried her into the shower and detached the showerhead to cool off her body. Afterwards, he wrapped her in a towel then carried her back to the bedroom where he rubbed arnica into her reddened spots.

“You may have one or two bruises.”

“From the way it felt, I expected more than that.”

“The weekend is young,” he said.

He pulled on a pair of thin workout pants, a clean T-shirt and sandals.

“You won’t need clothing,” he told her as she headed for her closet. “I’ll adjust the temperature so you’re comfortable.”

“That seems…awkward.”

“Natural,” he challenged. “And it’s how a Dom behaves,” he said, his feet shoulder-width apart and his arms folded across his chest. “You can fight me all you want, but I will win.”

She scowled at him. Hanging out in the nude seemed different to her than when they were sceneing.

“Stay there.” He went into his closet and came back with a strip of lilac-coloured leather.

“What’s that?” she asked unnecessarily.

“A reinforcement of your role,” he told her. “It means what we say it does, nothing more.”

“And to you?”

“It will keep you in the right frame of mind.”

“The naked kind.”

He inclined his head. They were having a disagreement, and they both seemed to know it.

“You can take it off at any time and put your clothing back on.”

David had softened his tone, and she responded to that.

She’d donned a collar for her night at the Den. That had been for kicks, nothing more. It amazed her how much more laden this felt.

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