Fuck, those words shouldn’t turn her on but as her clit throbbed, and her pussy grew even more wet there was no denying that they did.
When the plug was fully seated inside her, Curt turned on the vibrator. She nearly came then and there. It was only his hard slap to her pussy that stopped the impending orgasm. She cried out, stunned by the heavy smack on her sensitive clit.
Then he started smacking her ass. Heavy, hard smacks that were fast then slow. She clenched her hands around the chains of the sling, needing something to hold onto but also scared that otherwise she’d be tempted to reach down and what? Push him away? Pull him closer? She wasn’t entirely sure.
The sharp pain of his spanking kept her from falling over the edge into bliss. Just. But it was a hard fight. Tears ran down her face, her whole body shaking from the mix of pleasure and pain. Then the vibrator stopped and Curt pulled back, moving around so he stood behind her. He leaned down.
“Look at everyone watching you, darlin’. Look at them all admiring what belongs to me.”
She stared out at the crowd and saw the way they watched, riveted. Some of the tension she hadn’t realized she still carried left her.
Curt reached down and pulled lightly at the nipple clamps. She cried out, arching her back. “Poor baby,” he crooned. “I bet you need to come, don’t you?”
“Yes, please, Sir.”
He massaged her shoulders, rubbing away some knots. Then he pulled her hands away from where she still clung to the chains, clicking his tongue as he saw her red palms, the indentations from the chains. “You’re holding onto the straps too tightly. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“You just clamped my nipples and spanked me,” she said with disbelief.
“That’s different. That was on purpose.” He placed her hands down by her sides.
“Not ideal, but I don’t want your hands above your head. You keep them there, though, hear me?”
She nodded, her eyes widening as he picked up the crop. Oh hell.
Curt could tell that Jenna was worried, but he was keeping a close eye on her. If that trepidation turned to true fear he would slow things down. But she was doing so well, if he stopped now he would be doing her a disservice. She was brave. Strong and beautiful and his. And he was so damn proud of her. He swung the crop, taking care to get the fleshiest part of her ass. She gasped, cried out. Two more strikes and he switched on the butterfly vibrator. She arched back with a scream. Another few strikes. Damn that was beautiful. The next few landed and he knew he couldn’t wait much longer. He needed her.
But first he had to make certain of something. He moved to stand next to her head, pushing some strands of hair off her face. “Jenna, do you still feel guilty?”
“What?” she almost slurred her words. She was close to subs
pace. He turned off the vibrating butterfly.
“This is punishment for not talking to me, for keeping things from me. But once I’ve finished, there is no more guilt. No more worry. Understand? But that doesn’t mean you’ll do it again, will you?”
She shook her head, staring up at him with wide, blue eyes. “No. Never. I’m yours.”
He kissed her. Hard. “You are. Five more.”
He moved between her legs, smacking the crop down hard and fast, wanting this over, needing to be inside her. Then he placed the crop down and undid his pants. He drew them and his boxers off then grasped her around the hips and swung her toward him, slowly pushing his way into her pussy. She was wet and ready for him.
“Curt. Curt.”
He didn’t correct her. He liked hearing his name from her lips.
“Please, please,” she cried out. Damn, she looked gorgeous. Her eyes were wide and glazed, her face flushed, a light sheen of sweat covered her skin.
“I love you, Jenna Jasons. You’re mine. Now and always.” He drew out then in. Faster and faster. Then he switched on the vibrator, needing to feel her come with him, around him. “Come, baby. Come now.”
It only took a few seconds before she let out a scream and came. He tried to hold off, wanting to make it last, but all too soon he crashed over as well.
Fuck yeah.
***
“Woah, there.” Curt grabbed the door as it swung back, nearly hitting the person who was trying to maneuver her way through on crutches. He gave Melody a firm look. “What do you think you’re doing? Why didn’t you ask someone to hold the door for you?”
“I’m fine. I can get through the damned door,” she snapped. The plaster on her foot was bright pink today, not the deep emerald green he’d last seen.