Page 27 of Born Savage

The brutal crack in sound was jarring, the action stunning. He was spanking me. What? Shock tore through me with lightning speed while I remained in limbo, uncertain what to do or how to react.

When he smacked my bottom again, the instant ache tingled my extremities while driving a pool of fire into my core.

“Stop.” My demand seemed pointless with his firm hold even as he pressed his fingers against the small of my back to keep me in position. Every crack of his hand brought a thorough wave of vibrations, all electrified. All keeping me wet.

Soon, I was panting in response, trying desperately to find a way to escape. Every move brought a harder smack. Soon, my skin ached, but that was nothing in comparison to the wave of raw heat sweeping through every cell and muscle.

I’d experienced pain before, but this was a wash of intrusive agony that couldn’t be easily explained. Especially since my pussy continued throbbing.

His actions weren’t gentle by any means, one smack after another keeping me reeling with emotions.

“Never try and escape me,” he warned. “Never.”

A threat or a promise of more? I wasn’t certain I minded either way. He continued the horrific insult to the tough woman I’d become, leaving a slow, even burn spreading across my skin.

I could only imagine the discoloration, redness blotching my skin, but that’s what he wanted. A reminder. While annoying, what bothered me was with every clap of his palm, agony mixed with pleasure, the effect lingering in anticipation of more.

And the brutal Savage gave it to me, one coming after another until I was unable to hold back a strangled cry. Why was no one coming to my rescue? Were his men so inured to the cries of a woman they didn’t bother checking the reason for the sound?

No, they knew better than to challenge their leader.

Every time I squirmed, the ache deepened, bolting into tight, dark, and wet spaces. As the punishment continued, I found my ass pressed out for his hand. Amongst the haze I wasn’t certain if he’d moved me or I’d done so myself. The thought was intolerable.

When he slowed, finally pulling his hand away, I was thankful it was over. He didn’t back away, allowing me to breathe; he pressed his hand between my legs instead and cupped my wetness.

His fingers worked magic, swirling around my clit several times before he pinched the tender tissue. As he likely wanted, I yelped, smashing my hands on the wall.

“Tell me you’ll obey.” When he dipped his fingers into my tight channel, the raw slice of rapture was so unexpected I couldn’t utter a response. When he stopped cold, I knew why.

I held my breath, uncertain if I was fearful or maybe hopeful that once he realized I was a virgin he would stop. The only problem? I didn’t want him to. He was supposed to be my first. I could sense that. I could feel it as if knowing I needed air to breathe. No matter how toxic the substance, I couldn’t live without it.

“Don’t stop,” I said so quietly I wasn’t certain he’d heard me.

Until he exhaled, moving his fingers more gently this time. With no words spoken he drove them in and out, taking his time while the ache in my pussy muscles relaxed. And my mind returned to the fragile yet powerful cravings I’d experienced. Had I bled as I’d been told I’d do? Did it bother him?

For some reason, I didn’t think so. He was more controlled, taking his time finger fucking me, only picking up speed when my breathing became erratic.

A single crack of his hand once again brought me free of the dense fog.

“Tell me you will obey me.” The clear authority in his voice was as startling as the moment.

“Yes. I’ll obey you.” With my back arched, I sensed he thought I’d be begging for more. Maybe I was.

He wasn’t finished disciplining me yet, his hand moving from one side to the other several times. I was breathless. I was dazed. Juice trickled down the insides of both thighs, the scent overpowering. He thrust his fingers in once again, moving in a driving force leaving me aching all over.

Even though I wanted to fight him with all I had, his hand on my back made movement impossible. His dominance over me was unpredictable and I was in no position to do anything but tolerate the filthy act of humiliation. Every time I wiggled my hips, he took that to mean I was asking for more.

And he gave it to me, long and painful smacks leaving me yearning for more. Everything about the man left me in a suspended state of animation. His searing touch creating a burning deep that lingered long after he pulled his hand free. His soothing touch when he brushed his callused fingertips against my skin.

Even the aura of power and danger surrounding him. The Savage was an impenetrable force.

I accepted his punishment, but only in knowing there would be pleasure. I lost myself in his hold over me, forgetting who I was or why I’d ventured into the city in the first place. That’s how much power he seemed to have over me.

And I didn’t like it one bit.

This time as he dipped his fingers inside, spreading them wide open, I threw my head back. Only there was no sound other than the rapid beating of my heart.

He pressed all four fingers inside, spreading my pussy muscles in a way that had never been done before. I was losing control over my actions. My emotions. Even my thoughts.