Page 171 of Bad Attitude
He leans in, licking once, twice, over my nipple. That’s both better and worse. I whimper.
There’s a click and a whir, and the ropes slacken off an inch, maybe two. Enough for me to ease my wrists, not more than that.
“Spread your legs for me,” he says.
My eyes flick open wide. He’s still holding the flogger. “No… Please.”
“What’s the package?”
I can’t answer. I don’t know what he wants me to say.
“Your resistance is so cute.” He looks at me as though I’m a recalcitrant puppy. “Spread your legs, as far as they’ll go, or I’ll get the spreader bar out and it’ll be ten times worse.”
The softness of his voice is the worst part. It’s like he’s fully in his element, and I don’t doubt for a moment that he’ll do what he says. There’s no point resisting, not when I’m so vulnerable to him.
Wincing, I ease my feet apart. Shoulder width is all I can manage before the ropes are once again pullingmy wrists uncomfortably high.
“Good girl,” he says. “Just like that. Now, keep them open. Do I need to threaten you again?”
I give him a half shake of my head, glaring at him in silence.
He starts spinning that damn flogger. My eyes close, not so I can feel it more, but so I don’t have to watch.
I still jerk when the ends flick over my pussy, a gasp slipping out. It stings, more sensitive than anywhere, and I’m grateful that he’s being gentle. At least, I think he is. He hit my ass harder, but this still jolts more. I try to count the impacts, if only to distract myself, but lose track after a dozen. By then, I’m sobbing. It’s not pain, it’s the sheer helplessness of it, the intensity of it. Every inch of my skin is thrumming, like all of me at once demands my attention.
The flogger hits the mat with a heavy thud that pulls my focus back to him, my eyes snapping open. What’s next on his sadistic menu?
“Are you awake to me, little hellcat?” His hand drops between my legs, and I’m not quick enough to press my thighs closed. I’m not even sure Iwantto.
His fingers glide between my folds, spreading my wetness around. And I’m so fucking wet. I hadn’t even realized how much, until he touched me there.
“Oh, you are,” he says. “Good. Now we can begin.”
A moan is the only answer I can give.
Thirty-Three
Raven
Aclick, then from behind me comes the whir of the motor. The rope lengthens and my wrists lower. I gasp as my shoulders ease, letting out a shuddering breath.
“On your knees.”
My legs are bending before I can even think of resisting him, and he helps with a hand on top of my head, pushing me down. My weight pulls on my arms again, and the bastard uses this as a gauge, stopping the motor when my knees touch the mat. I’m forced to kneel up, wrists still pulled high, as helpless as I was while standing.
And more vulnerable in other ways.
“What’s the package?”
At this point I might even tell him if I could, even though I’m not sure it would change anything.
No, fuck that. He’s not getting anything out of me.
“I love your stubbornness,” he says, unbuttoninghis jeans. The length of him presses hard against the denim, drawing my eyes. A thin trail of hair runs from his navel on down, and I remember licking along it one time. It’s a discordant feeling: on the one hand, I really hate him right now; on the other, I’ve had my tongue all over his body, and this man is so gorgeous I’m happy to gaze.
It’s messing with my head, an unwelcome distraction before the punishments resume.
He pulls the fly open, buttons releasing one by one with a staccato ripple, and his cock is freed. It’s as mouth-watering as the rest of him, but I know he’s only going to use it to add to my torment.
