Page 110 of Claimed By Blood

“Get it wet,” Vane orders, taking a step around me. He lets the crop sing through the air, testing it, before tracing the tip down the length of my spine.

Anticipation—headier than any drug—buzzes through me at that simple touch.

“Pinch your nipples.”

I do.

“Harder.”

The sting zings through my blood.

“Harder.”

God, it’s starting to hurt, but he hasn’t told me to release them.

“Harder, princess.”

The crop traces a new line along one ass cheek and I moan helplessly around the toy.

“Good girl. Release them.”

I cry out, the sound muffled, as the blood flows back to my breasts at the same time Vane gives me my first experimental swat. I don’t feel the sting at first, but then it’s there, battling with the sensation of blood rushing back to my nipples to consume me.

He pauses, waiting for me to spit out the toy and safe word.

I don’t. My body is confused, but my mind is filled with a pleasant, lust-filled fog. For the first time in hours, my mind is blessedly still. All I can think about is what he’ll do next and pray for someone to deal with the wetness that’s now trailing down my thighs like water.

And between us, the bond winds tighter and tighter.

“It’s only going to get harder,” Vane warns. “You put yourself in serious danger yesterday.”

True to his word, the next thwack of the crop on my opposite cheek stings even more fiercely than the first. He follows it up with a third, and then a fourth, pausing and increasing the force each time.

“I think you can handle it,” he mutters, almost to himself.

He returns to my front and tugs the toy from my mouth, crouching before me. It pops free, coated in an embarrassing amount of drool, and he wastes no time in sliding it between my legs, rubbing it over my clit once. Twice.

But not a third time.

My shaky breaths must have warned him that once more was all I would need to come. Then the pressure at my entrance starts.

“You can’t come until I tell you to,” Vane orders.

“Yes, Vane,” I whisper, automatically.

I don’t bother telling him the situation might be out of my hands. He pumps the toy into my pussy slowly, drawing it out, and my body stretches delightfully as the ridges scrape over that hidden spot inside of me. It seems to take forever to go in, but when he nestles it securely against my lower lips, I whimper.

Then he turns it on.

As soon as the tiny ring latches onto my clit and sucks, I lose the ability to think. The toy starts to slip away, and Vane shakes his head admonishingly before pressing it back into place.

“Hold it there,” he growls. “If you let your treat fall out, I’ll have to punish you even harder.”

I can hear him, but I can barely process his words, let alone respond. I clench my pelvic floor, trying as hard as I can to keep the toy inside of me as he releases it and moves back around until he’s facing my side.

The ridges on the bulbous end give me some traction, but the sucker conspires against me, making my inner walls spasm.

Then the crop comes down for real.

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