Page 82 of The Sadist and the Brat

He laughed, enjoying her. “Hardly any at all.”

“I’m going to need specifics,” she insisted.

“I’m afraid you’re just going to have to take my word for it.” He stared her down, watching the emotions flit over her face.Disbelief, outrage, wariness.Then finally, a grudging acceptance tinged with arousal and a delicious sheen of fear that made him want to devour her whole.

“You promise I’ll get to come?”

He swiped his finger over his heart. “Cross my heart.”

“Hope to die?” she shot back, a hint of sass in the curl of her lip. “Stick a needle in your eye?”

There she was, he thought with satisfaction. That was his Sadie. “I wouldn’t go that far. Now try not to wiggle, because if you do,” he warned gleefully, “it’s going to hurt.”

She froze, going almost comically still, and he chuckled. If she was able to maintain that level of stillness for more than a few seconds, he’d eat the other shoe.

He held her gaze for another moment, relishing the wariness and the fear in her eyes, letting her see the anticipation in his, then dropped his gaze to take in the rest of her.

She was a picture.

Her hair was a bright halo around her head, the strawberry-blonde a sharp contrast to the black leather ottoman. Her face was still damp with sweat, and though the tears had stopped, their silvery tracks were visible on her flushed cheeks. Her neck and chest were flushed, too, right down to her nipples. Despite her obvious arousal they were soft, the areolas puffy from the rug burn. He traced a finger around one gently, delicately, delighted when it puckered and reddened. She started to squirm in reaction, then froze once again.

“Nice catch,” he chuckled, and slid his hands to her thighs.

The ropes were pressed into her legs, snug against her soft skin. He glanced at the clock on the wall across the room, calculating the time she’d spent in bondage. He laid a hand on each of her feet, checking her skin temperature. She was warm, and her feet didn’t appear to be swelling—he could still see the delicate tendons running from her instep to her toes. Satisfied that her circulation wasn’t yet a concern, he gave her toes a reassuring squeeze and turned his attention to her pussy.

“Goddamn, that’s a pretty cunt,” he drawled, and continued to ignore his erection while he took in the sight before him. The delicate folds of her labia were trapped in the padded clamps and stretched wide, revealing the deep pink of her inner flesh. The delicate opening was bright red, and all of it gleamed. She was so wet there was a literal puddle on his ottoman. Even as he stared, entranced, her cunt pulsed, the muscles contracting in an unmistakable invitation.

One he was only too happy to accept.

He dropped his head, moving slowly to savor her reaction, and swirled the tip of his tongue around her clit.

She let out a high-pitched whine and jerked, yanking at the clips holding her pussy spread, and the whine morphed quickly into a short, sharp scream.

He glanced up, noted the color in her cheeks had deepened by several shades and that her breasts were bouncing in concert with her ragged breaths. “I guess that hurt, didn’t it?”

“How…did you guess?” she panted and managed a weak glare.

“Well, this isn’t my first rodeo. And that being the case,” he continued, “I’m guessing it also felt good.”

“Oh, God,” she wheezed.

“Is that a yes?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does,” he chided. “Your pleasure is my goal, Sadie.”

“It doesn’t feel like it at the moment.”

“And your pain,” he continued, lowering his head once again so his lips hovered over her clit, “is my pleasure.”

He waited a beat, savoring the tremor that raced through her, then sucked her clit into his mouth.

She spasmed under him, her whole body jerking against her restraints as she came. He kept still, feeling the pleasure and the pain zipping through her, hearing both in the broken cries that slipped from her lips. There were incoherent pleas for more, for less, curses and prayers in equal measure. She called his parentage into question, insulted his ancestors all the way back to the flood, and vowed such violent revenge that he wondered if he should wait until she was unconscious to untie her.

Her clit pulsed between his lips, under his tongue, but still he didn’t let go. He brought one hand up, wanting to feel the pulse and pull of her flesh, and when he slipped two fingers inside her she went off again. She was so slick he decided to add a third finger, stretching her wide and fucking her hard through the orgasm, his only regret that he was feeling the desperate clench of her pussy on his fingers instead of his dick.

As the orgasm faded, he lifted his head, wanting to see her face for this next part. He kept his fingers buried deep, brushing his beard back and forth over her clit to keep her stimulated, and with his free hand reached for the first clamp.

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