Page 32 of What About Love

“You have beautiful skin. Smooth and flawless.” One hand dropped lower, stroking first, one lower cheek than the other. “It’s nothing compared to this ass”—his fingers flexed, as if testing the suppleness—“which is simply stunning.”

Angie quivered, his touch igniting a fire in her body. She bit her lip, successfully suppressing the moan that threatened to burst free, but she had no control of her hips which thrust forward reflexively, nudging the padded cross.

“Did Master Dan use a flogger on these gorgeous cheeks?”

“Yes, sir, he used two, suede and nylon.” The breathy quality of her voice could not be mistaken for anything other than what it was—desire.

“An excellent start for a novice.” His head bent and she felt his lips brush softly across her shoulder. His whispered breath followed, making her shiver. “Your body’s vibrating with need after only a few light touches. A taste of my lash will have you soaring.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw him twist, his long arm easily reaching into his bag without leaving her. He withdrew an ominous-looking multi-tailed whip.

She tensed.

Missing nothing, he squeezed her hip. “Trust me, Angie.”

A fraction of a second later, the lash trailed over her bottom. Prepared for much worse than the paddle, a ragged low cry escaped her lips despite the sensation being soft and light.

“Relax,” he murmured as the leather connected again. There was no bite or sting. Instead, the leather strips landed gently then curled around her curves like massaging fingers.

Her head fell back. The long fall of her hair sweeping down her back as T methodically lashed her ass and down her thighs with the heavenly flogger. Alive with sensation, a moan rose from her chest. As if he’d been waiting for a cue from her, his hand sank into her hair, coiling it around and around his wrist, baring her back once again. Without releasing his firm hold, the flogger fell higher, connecting lightly along the base of her ribs.

She’d witnessed a similar scene each of the past two nights, thinking it must be painful to take a lashing across the back and shoulders, but she was wrong. There was no pain, only pleasure, at least in the way T was doing it.

Under his control, his focus solely on her, his lash caressed her naked body, making her feel—really feel—sensations she’d never experienced before. She was beginning to understand why this was so compelling, why some of her friends craved it like a drug, pursuing it, reveling in it, submitting to its power.

Angie didn’t want him to stop, ever. She felt alive, her body vibrating as he’d said it would, her taut, achy nipples rubbing against the cross with every stroke, her pussy drenched with need. The strokes fell across her ass once again, meeting her lowermost cheeks this time, the thud of the tails driving her arousal even higher.

“T, please.”

“Please what, baby?” His voice rasped in reply, not breaking the pattern of his strokes.

“I need—”

“Ask for what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“I need to come.”

“Mmm... try again. This time be specific and ask with respect.”

The lash zipped harder, bringing her up on her toes, not with biting pain, rather with intensity as the muscles of her thighs, buttocks, and those deep within her pussy rippled and contracted.

“Touch me, sir. Please, make me come.”

His fingers grazed her mound, and she shivered. It felt good but was in no way what she wanted, what she needed. She whimpered with frustration.

“I told you in the beginning, if you wanted more, you’d have to ask for it.” Long, broad fingers slid upward and splayed over her belly while his lash continued its slow sensual torment. “This was a limit we set, Angie. I need to be clear where you want my touch.” There was a pause as he waited, the wide pads of his fingertips flexing on the slight curve of her lower belly. At length, he repeated, “Ask, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Please, slip your hand between my thighs and touch my clit. I need to come so badly, sir.”

“Just on your clit?”

“On me and inside me, sir. Just touch me, please.”

“There’s a good girl.” The lash stopped and her whimper of disappointment was unmistakably clear. “Spread your legs.”

Her feet immediately moved apart, and she canted her hips forward, pressing against the hand that could bring her relief. His hand slid down and two fingers dipped between her thighs. “Wider, Angie. Let me in.”

Mindless with need, she didn’t think. She responded, planting her feet as wide as her shoulders. Her reward was the slow glide of his fingers through her wetness. At the same time, the lash resumed falling across her ass.

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