Page 107 of What About Love

She nodded and inhaled deeply.

“Better?” he asked after a few cycles in and out.

“Yes, thanks for the pointer.”

Amused by the hint of acerbity in her words, he suppressed a chuckle but not his grin. Still, he warned, “Watch the tone, little bit. You’re getting the flogger next. Don’t give me more ammunition.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“That you can sass me with a clamp on your nipple is impressive. Either that, or I need to tighten it further.”

Her hair tumbled around her shoulders when she shook her head in denial. This time, his low laughter broke free. He moved on, bending to catch the remaining tip in his mouth, sucking it into a hard jutting peak. As with the first, he tightened it until the clamped held her glistening pink flesh in a firm pinch. He gave the connecting chain a small tug afterward, watching as a shudder rushed through her body.

Damn. She was a natural.

Well pleased, he rewarded her with more kisses and a bit of teasing between her drenched nether lips. He reveled in the sweet sounds that came from her throat. When her body was virtually humming with arousal, he eased back, removing his lips and playful fingers.

Almost ready to begin, he quickly performed one more task of preparation. With speed born of experience, he quickly restrained her ankles. He passed on the shackles provided, opting for soft Velcro cuffs instead, which he looped through the bars to hold her legs apart.

Rising, he took a step back, taking a moment to admire her gorgeous body splayed open and vulnerable. His cock ached to have her, and he gripped it through his leathers. Soon.

Reaching into his back pocket, he removed the flogger he warned her about. Her eyes dipped to his hands, watching as he unfurled it. She didn’t flinch when he flicked his wrist and sent the tails dancing across her belly with a soft slap. The next hit a little higher, the third falling right below her breasts.

Panting, her tongue swept out to wet her dry lips.

Changing his angle, he brought the suede tails upward along the full lower curves. He did this lightly, knowing the blow would set them in motion and increase the bite of the clamps. Angie cried out, arching into the next blow rather than away.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, concentrating the strokes on both breasts a moment longer, before moving on.

With expert control gained through years of experience, he hit what he targeted. The next stroke brushing her flat sexy belly then falling across each hip. He passed her forward jutting mound, where she plainly wanted it to land next, focusing on her spread thighs instead. Striking the tender inner aspect with a measured hand, he skillfully painted her skin a pretty rosy pink.

“You’re doing so well, baby. Once I heat your lovely round ass, you’ll have your debt paid.”

“But—” she began, hesitantly biting her lower lip.

He stepped close, his hand gliding over her heated skin. “What is it? Did I miss something, perhaps?”

“You know you did, sir,” she breathed unsteadily.

“Are you saying you want me to whip your pussy?” As he posed the question, he gently stroked the smooth lips between her thighs.

She nodded.

“Nods are so easily misinterpreted during a scene. Ask for what you want, baby?”

“God, yes,” she cried out. “I want you to whip my pussy.”

He lightly slapped her splayed lips to which she yelped in surprise. She was so hot and trembling with need, and it transitioned into a low throaty moan.

“What is the proper reply to your dom?”

“God, yes, sir!” was her answer through a recognizable fog of arousal. She was close to flying yet again.

He smiled. “I was looking for ‘yes, sir, flog my pussy,’ but that’s close enough. First things first though.”

With his cock pressed so hard against his fly, he was certain to have permanent teeth marks from his zipper, he left the cell and moved behind her. In a sidearm throw, he angled the tails at her ass cheeks pressed against the vertical bars. For the first time since beginning, he lent enough effort to the blow for it to be considered punishment. He almost wished he was an observer because her reaction was exquisite—head thrown back, lips parted, heaving breasts sending the nipple chain swaying back and forth, her back and pelvis bowing out beautifully as much as her restraints would allow.

Ready to see this done and sink into her, he laid down an even twenty strokes from the crest of both cheeks to a mid-thigh, turning her skin from creamy white to pink, to a dusky rose. Once done, he ran his hand over the rounded globes, checking the heat. Warm, not hot without marks that would linger past the hour—she was perfect.

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