Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 89228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
He paced out eight steps behind her and tested the weight of the whip's handle. Shaking out the fall, he let the six-foot thong ripple over the ground. His target, in all her magnificent nudity, shook wildly before him. Her arms stretched over her head, secured by wrist cuffs and rope, and the muscles in her back bounced beneath the unblemished canvas of her skin. The stunning sight took his breath away.
He delayed a moment to clear his mind and refill his lungs. Then he bent and locked his elbow, moving his arm upward and flowing the whip out behind him. At the twelve o'clock position, he relaxed his arm straight down and released the plaited leather through the air with a crack.
The fall landed with pinpoint accuracy, raising a pink bite just above her ass cheek. She flinched, and her violent thrashing slammed to a stop. Shock? It only lasted a heartbeat before she flung herself forward, caught by the rope, and cried out loudly and mournfully.
In the past, those pained howls would've hardened his cock into a burning steel rod. He would’ve imagined beating the shit out of the weak boy he’d once been and gotten off on it—as vile as that was. But his dick didn't jerk, his body pliant and cool, his mind completely focused on what she needed. Too many fears were coming at her all at once, probably faster, harder, and more intensely than anything she'd experienced. He wanted to shelter her from the onslaught. He wanted to see her eyes shine bright and protect that light. He wanted to free her.
A swallow lodged in his throat, and the handle shook in his hand. Where were these thoughts coming from? And what if he made her worse?
If the whip brought her unfathomable pain, she would avoid the outside more, unless she was able to engage with the pain and connect it with pleasure and arousal. It was the response he hoped for. Otherwise, this would end in disaster.
With his feet spaced shoulder-width apart and the grass tickling his toes, he shifted his left foot forward. Hips loose, left hand up and out for balance, he settled into a relaxed stance and waited for the shaking to stop.
For the span of a dozen pummeling heartbeats, his uncertainty shifted. His dominant hand warmed and strengthened as it held the whip selflessly for the first time. Until now, it had struck only because it felt good, because it satisfied a craving. He tightened his fingers around the stiff leather grip as Amber's panting cries surrounded him, begging wordlessly for his help.
He let the whip fly. Over and over, the lashes kissed her back, her ass, and her trembling legs. Whether he wanted to deliver a light sting or a muscle-bruising blow, his body knew what to do, his attention centering on her responses. The uncurling of her fingers, the loosening of her knees, the clench of her thighs, every answer contrasted with and complemented his strikes, each stumbling sigh playing different tones of the same melody. The song of unbidden surrender.
As the physical pain overpowered the emotional, her body liquefied. Nerves, muscles, and vocal chords, once stressed to their max, appeared to be softening, dissolving into a gentle sway of limbs and hushed moans.
His arm burned with exertion, his t-shirt soaked with sweat. He lowered the whip, catching his breath, and angled his head. The moon cast a globe of light on the glistening arousal slicking her inner thighs.
Pride lifted the corners of his mouth and expanded his lungs. He was the Master of a glowing red ass and a soaking pussy, of an agoraphobic who hung naked in the woods with a sigh on her lips. Damn straight, he owned that.
He set down the whip and approached her back, pausing close enough to let her feel his body heat without touching. Not one lash had broken the skin. He'd gone easy on her, though she probably wouldn't thank him for it. “What are you feeling, Amber?”
Her head rolled forward, and a shiver rippled her shoulders.
He walked a wide circle around to her front, slowly, confidently, his gait a habit of lethal charisma, as her heavy eyes tracked his movements. A kiss away, he cupped her face and raised her chin. “Tell me.”
She licked her lips, her eyelids half-mast. “I...I need...”
She'd better say him. He needed her to say it.
Holding her jaw with one hand, he dropped the other to a taut nipple, brushing it with a knuckle in teasing strokes. “What do you need?”
She arched her spine, pressing her heavy tit against his palm. Her eyes rose to his, brightening with unspoken thoughts, then drifted over his shoulder and widened. Her next inhale caught in her throat. “Take me inside.” She sucked in sharply, her jaw stiffening, her voice rushed. “Need to go back. Oh God. Now.”