She nods.
“Now, before we start, you need a safe word.”
“I don’t—”
“Trust me,bella,you’ll need one.”
Silence once again falls around us like a song. This is our song, our symphony, which echoes around us, playing to the movement of our chests as they rise and fall with every breath. Almost poetically. This is what I live for. The anticipation of what’s to come.
“Whisky,” she murmurs. A chuckle rumbles in my throat at her choice.
“Is there a reason you chose that word?”
She smiles shyly. The reflection of her face in the window makes me grin, something I’ve not done with a woman in a long while. There’s a lot I want to do with Raina that makes me wonder what hold this woman has on me. “It reminds me of when I first saw you drinking the whisky I poured. The way your lips glistened with the alcohol, and I wanted to—”
“Lick it off?” I quip, finishing her sentence, and she nods. Running my fingers over her bare shoulders, I trail my touch over her breasts, missing her nipples that have hardened beautifully. When I reach her hips, she gasps lightly. “Ticklish?”
An affirmative nod.
“Tell me,bella,that night, did you go home and touch yourself?”
A gasp, erotically charged, blazes through her and into me. As if we’re tethered to one another and any movement she makes, passes through me.
“Did you, Raina?”
12
Raina
“Did you, Raina?” His question hangs in the air, teasing me.
“Yes, Sir.” My answer is a raspy murmur. The heat of his body against my back has me leaning into him, needing the warmth.
“Did you think about how it would feel if my hands were stroking your skin?” As he voices the question, the tender and gentle way he’s touching me has my body pulsing, needing him to fill me. We’ve kissed, he’s had his fingers inside me and his lips on my pussy, but it feels as if we’ve been connected, melding to each other.
“Yes.” My whisper is hoarse. A harsh slap on my left breast has me yelping loudly.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir.”
A deep rumble stirs in his chest at my words. “Good girl, don’t forget where we are. Not even for a moment. Remember, Raina, I’ll hurt you because I want to. Because it pleases me. And because I’ll come harder when your cheeks are tear-stained, when your bottom lip is trembling, and your smooth, creamy skin is red and glowing.”
“I’ve thought about you since that first night. Every moment since, you’ve consumed my thoughts. You’ve gripped my mind,” I murmur.
“I know,bella.” He steps away from me then. The heat that cocooned me is gone and a shiver races down my spine. “Remember your safe word,” he warns. A sound from behind me has my senses alert. I can’t see him because I’m staring out the window, but I feel the shift of air in the room as he moves around. The swish of a whip hisses through the air. “Keep your eyes on the lights outside.” That’s all he says before the sting on my ass has me yelping.
Another bite comes and another. As much as I thought it would hurt, and fear would override my curiosity, it’s not. I find myself growing wetter with each thwack against my sensitive skin. I await the eleventh one, but it doesn’t come. Instead, his hands caress the now reddened and tingly flesh of my ass.
The view becomes blurry as the tears threaten my eyes. They pool on the edge of my lashes, but I don’t blink. The twinkling lights below us shimmer as he manipulates my body. I’ve never felt such desire from a mere touch. Let alone achy and needy from being spanked, whipped. Whatever he did to me it feels as if he’s lit a match and I’m slowly burning from the inside out. As if molten lava is slowly swirling deep in my core and he’s the only one who can extinguish it.
“Is your cunt wet for me?”
“Yes, Sir.” I nod, hoping with everything I am that he’ll touch me where I need it. That his fingers will find my clit and tug it, tweak it till I’m whimpering. That he’ll drive his cock so deep inside me I’ll forget my own name just from screaming his.
It’s quiet for a while, then I hear the crack of a bottle being opened, a glass being set on a surface, and the swish and swill of liquid being poured into it. Not long after, his order comes.
“Turn around, sit on the table, and spread your legs.” His voice sounds far away, and when I turn, I find him seated in a leather armchair, his legs spread and his bare torso bathed in the soft moonlight shining through the window. Dark eyes pierce me. They bore into me inquisitively as if I’m a caged animal in the zoo and he’s curious about me.