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“Are you out of your mind? It’s insane. You’re insane.” While I was still holding onto the handles as instructed, I was rocking the damn swing myself, still panting as the round of pain subsided.
But he issued two more cracks right in the middle of my pussy and I was lit up like a Christmas tree, gasping like a crazed animal. “That. Fucking. Hurts.”
“Yes, but good girls who obey and learn to trust are rewarded.” Almost instantly, he soothed the burning pain by dragging his tongue up and down the length of my pussy.
I’d be damned if the electricity rolling through me wasn’t insanely amazing, so much so if the leg restraints hadn’t been keeping me wide open, I would have pushed my legs as far open as possible. Oh, I couldn’t believe it.
Another few swipes of his rough tongue were followed by three more cracks to my pussy then two to my inner thighs.
This time, I couldn’t have held back a scream for anything. Almost instantly, he repeated the soothing moment, allowing the white-hot heat and my frazzled nerves to slide down the Richter scale. There was no chance I was enjoying this.
But I was.
He repeated the entire scenario at least three more times and I could feel the endorphins kicking in like athletes experienced. I couldn’t believe it but as the rush of excitement mixed with fire and adrenaline, I was positively euphoric.
I wasn’t even aware when he stopped, gently swinging my blissful body back and forth. I was in a beautiful lull, one I never wanted to come out of. My pussy ached and throbbed and the sensitivity level was off the charts.
Maybe he did know me a little bit better than I wanted to admit.
Maybe seconds, maybe minutes later, I heard a rustling sound and tried to decipher what I was hearing. The blackness covering my eyes no longer terrified me. I was simply in a beautiful vacuum where all time had stopped.
Somehow, I figured out what he was doing.
Removing his clothes.
Oh, my God. He was going to fuck me like this and I was thoroughly and completely excited. How could that be?
Another noise popped into my eardrums and it took me a bit longer to figure it out. He was lowering the swing just slightly, the noise something mechanical. He was ensuring he would be able to ravish my body.
I felt his hands on me seconds later, his huge hands cupping and squeezing my breasts. I was still tingling all over, still in a magnificent haze. But when he pinched my nipples, I was lit up like a firecracker again. But this time, the pain was entirely different. Deeper.
More sensual.
“Do not let go of the handles or you will be punished,” he said gruffly.
I tried to show him I was obeying by clenching the bars harder than before. “Yes, sir.” Respect. Ha. I’d never called my father sir in my life. But he’d never demanded it. Maybe because the man had always been too busy.
“You are a beautiful woman destined to be a submissive. My submissive. I won’t allow anyone else to touch you.”
Normally, I would be furious with any man for being so possessive but in this regard, my juices trickled faster, my mind a wonderful blur of being his need for ownership. Was he serious or was this nothing more than scene playing?
For now, I’d relax and enjoy.
And nearly explode with passion.
He continued pinching as he peppered kisses down my stomach. The sensations were already driving me wild, tickling just enough I couldn’t remain still. And lord, I had issues trying to obey him with my hands, longing to run my fingers through his thick hair.
But I needed to remind myself that for tonight if no other time, he was my master.
Still, there were fleeting thoughts that I was more of his prey than anything else. The thought was silly. Yes, we were competing in a sense, likely to remain enemies. However, there was something to be said for the enemies-to-lovers concept. Whew.
When he finally ran his fingers down my chest to my hips, I was trembling all over. The powerful man did have that effect on me, but part of it was all about the control he had over me at this moment. Yes, I was vulnerable, but he seemed right in that he’d known almost instinctively how much pain I needed.
And craved.
Did all women feel this way or was I a weirdo?
I would soon have that word stamped on my forehead.
