Page 98 of A New Days Don

Leather and cedar and–

Snap!

Pin pricks of pain shoot from my palms as several thin strands of black leather slap against my skin, pulling me instantaneously from the darkness creeping in.

Massimo smirks, and wetness drips against my ankle where it’s bent under me.

Oh.

“How was that, angelo mio?” He asks, his thumb rubbing the screaming nerves.

“G-good.” I stammer through a swirl of undiluted lust. Each swipe of his thumb reminds me of the adrenaline that spiked through me, leaving a gentle whispering kiss of bliss. I try to pull on the binds again. My body is begging to reach for Massimo, but they don’t give.

Massimo chuckles something dark, and I shoot him a glare, “What’s so funny?”

“You, struggling against your restraints.” He muses, pushing some of my hair back behind my ear. My hair elastic still around his wrist.

Why is that so hot?

Massimo grips my chin tightly, tilting my chin to face him before he presses a hard kiss against my lips.

Massimo

Mila sits, still fully clothed, her eyes wild with untamed desire. She looks sexy as hell like this, with my binds holding her hands together, forcing her to endure a whole other experience. Something I hope will make her forget what that asshole did to her and leave her with a better understanding of what her first time is all about.

Mila’s chest rises and falls on ragged, but not shallow or trembling, breaths. Her heartbeat pounds against her carotid, but not panicked. It beats wildly with arousal over the bit of attention I have given her. Her pupils are dilated, not pinpoints, and they calmly search my face as she tries to read and figure out what will happen next.

Miss Always in Control needs the reprieve from her everyday life. She may not realize it, but I do. She may have been resistant to it at first, but slowly, she has learned to let go of her tight grip on her everyday life and allow spontaneity in.

I see how relieved she gets in the way her body relaxes when she doesn’t have to make trivial decisions like what to eat because I have already chosen for her. The way the tension in her face softens after forcing her past her comfort zone. I see it right now, as she looks at me with trusting, cerulean eyes, accepting that she doesn’t get to know what happens next, but that I will ensure she loves every minute of it.

A wicked smile pulls at my lips when I take her bound hands and force them above her head as I lay her gently against the bed, careful not to hurt her shoulder. I fasten them to the headboard, and Mila tilts her head with confusion etched across her features. I know she will hate me for the next twenty minutes, but I want her to be dripping and open for me, so my cock doesn’t remind her of pain.

My hands may be responsible for taking her to the breaking point of what she can tolerate, but my cock never will. Her memory of pain from this day forward will belong to me. When she thinks of it, she will drip with desire for the pleasure that comes along with the sharp sensation.

I grip both sides of the shirt that she’s wearing and tear it apart. Her chest rises and falls in quick succession as I slowly kiss down her neck and cleavage. When I bite into the swollen flesh of her small breast, she yelps. I suck, bringing the blood to the surface and making her eyes roll to the back of her head, leaving her tit marked by me.

Mine.

Fuck. She looks so good with my mark on her milky skin, soon to be marks, on her body.

My cock throbs, aching against my zipper as precum drips from the tip. So. Fucking. Perfect.

If this were any other day, where I wasn’t currently staring down at a carefully dressed wound to my woman’s shoulder, then I would shred her bra from her body. Instead, today, I reach for a knife in my bedside table, covering the sharp edge with my thumb before slipping it under her bra, letting her feel the cool metal against her skin. Her pulse skitters with awareness of the danger that lurks, but her eyes stay trained on me, knowing that I wield the weapon and trusting I will never bring harm to her.

I nearly cum to the euphoria of her looking at me the way she does. On a ragged breath, I cut through the fabric, freeing her perky breasts then snap the straps so I can toss her bra away. I press the sharp edge against her chest, leaning forward to kiss her lips before whispering in an attempt to scare her, to push her past her comfort zone, “I could cut you so easily, your blood would drip so perfectly on my sheets.”

She doesn’t hesitate as she nods, with a lust-drunk smile on her lips, “You could, but you won’t.”

I have always been a strong man, but her certainty and belief in me pulls a whimper from deep within my chest. When I meet her gaze, I reply breathlessly, “I will protect you with my life.”

I make quick work of my shirt, cutting it from her body until she is left topless for me. Mila’s back arches off the bed with a desperate need for friction that I have been taking my sweet time in providing her. Just as her body asks, I oblige, stripping her pants and panties off her, followed by her socks.

Her bare body lies before me, and I don’t know what to look at. From head to toe, her skin is silky, every inch begging to be marked. My own arousal coils tight, and for a moment, I have to look away, to relax the basal instinct to cum. This isn’t about me. It’s about her and making sure she knows what true euphoria feels like.

“Mas, please,” she whines breathlessly as I caress down her waist. I reach for the cat of nine tails, and her eyes widen as I snap the ends against my hand, testing the pinpricks of pain so I know exactly how far to push her.

“You beg so beautifully,” I muse, caressing the ends of the whip up her hip and waist. Goosebumps rise and pepper her skin, hypnotizing me. I let the tails kiss her pussy lightly, and she gasps, her arousal coating the leather ends.