His words build heat under my skin, and I try to squirm, and I can’t. The flogger falls across my skin, not hard enough to hurt. It’s a solid pressure that leaves warmth behind as he moves it across me. It falls on my shoulders and my chest, slowly, rhythmically moving lower. Across my breasts, and the sudden bite on my nipples leaves me breathless. But he doesn’t stop, moving lower, the strands wrapping around my ribs. Harder, a little snap, just enough to let me know how much control he has and that he’s absolutely in control of how hard that flogger falls.
Slow, dragging strokes across my hips. So close to my pussy, the strands brush the outside. Matthew lets the flogger fall harder on my legs, and I have no idea if he’s going to go back to my pussy. I’m fully exposed to him, and if he wants to use it on me, he can. I won’t be able to stop him.
I realize that I’m wet at the thought. I’m completely in his hands, and…that’s okay. It doesn’t matter that I can’t see, I can feel the pulse of that between us. Every brush of that leather is an expression of trust between us. I’m choosing to give him the ability to hurt me, and he’s choosing to show me that even though he can, he won’t. He’s showing me that he can see what I need, even if in that moment, it’s pain. That he’ll give me what I need even if it’s something that I wouldn’t choose.
The flogger snaps across my thighs, and I gasp. The pain throbs, fading into the heat that’s rising all over my body, that’s growing in my core where I’m starting to ache. The flogger keeps moving, with harder strokes, and I never know where it’s going to land. Shoulder. Breast. Hip. Stomach. Knee.
A finger brushes my pussy and I try and fail to move my hips closer. “You’re wet,” he says and I can hear the smile. “I like that. Do you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Open,” he says, and his finger touches my lips. I can taste myself on my tongue and my mind goes blank. Fiery arousal burns down my spine and I moan, trying to move, trying to get some relief. But there is none, especially since his clever fingers are at my pussy again, teasing, circling my clit, dipping inside to brush my G-spot. “Please,” I say.
My answer is the flogger starting up again, and even though I know the blows are harder, it doesn’t feel that way. Lines of heat and pleasure spiral from my skin wherever it lands, drawing in close and adding to the pressure of my rising orgasm. I never thought I’d be here, ready to come and he’s barely touched me.
“Sir, I need to come.” My words are more breath than voice.
“You will,” he says.
My hands curl into fists. “Please.”
The flogger makes the journey down my body again, and I’m going to come, I’m not going to be able to stop it. Not after he’s turned me on like this, teased me. He pauses at my hips. “You have permission to come,” he says, voice rough. And then the flogger lands directly on my clit. Pain and pleasure burst through me together and I cry out, coming. It falls again, and again, and I sag against the restraints, the pleasure rendering me helpless.
I hear a thud, and then feel Matthew’s fingers. I jump. “Sensitive,” he laughs. “I should have used this on you earlier.”
There’s the soft hiss of fabric and the clinking of his belt and the sound of a condom foil. And then I feel his skin on mine, inch for inch. His cock is rock hard, pinned between our bodies. Matthew is covering my body with his, and he twists our fingers together. “Do you feel that?”
“What?” I ask, swallowing, “Sir?”
“For this moment, you’re mine.” His lips are at my ear and his voice is so soft it makes me shiver. “You’re wearing my cuffs, you’re bound to my cross, and you’re under my body. There’s nowhere to go. I can do what I like to you, and right now, I’m going to fuck you until you’re screaming. And then, maybe, I’ll fuck you some more.”
He slips inside me and my breath is suddenly short, and I become aware of what he’s saying. I can feel the cuffs on my wrists and the straps on my skin. I can feel how vulnerable I am on this X, and I can feel the way he’s pining me down. He’s everywhere, even inside me, and I can’t escape. Calm spreads through me like a ripple, thoughts slowing, and I suddenly feel like I can breathe. I’m not afraid, and I don’t want to get away. This feeling can’t possibly be wrong, and even though I know I have zero power, I don’t care. I’d give it all to him again. This doesn’t feel like submitting, it feels like the way things should be. It’s like a light has gone on in my head, and all the things he’s been saying coalesce in a way that makes sense.