and grabbed her hair, pulled hard. He whispered in her ear, “This is going to hurt, sweetheart.” Then he reached around her and grabbed her nipples and pinched hard enough to make her yelp.
He kept pinching, his fingers so damn strong, hard and hurting. She panted out the pain, dizzy with it, making her squirm as much as she could in her bonds, the chain pulling against her pussy lips, her clit. Some part of her was unable to believe he could pinch so hard with just his fingers. She groaned. He pinched harder.
“God fucking damn it!” she yelled, and heard his chuckle before he released her sore flesh.
“That’s it,” he said in her ear once more. “Breathe. Ride it out.”
She did as he said, pulling in a long breath, then another.
He was in front of her when she opened her eyes. He held a long rubber flogger in his hands. She flinched. Rubber fucking hurt . Yet her pulse hummed in eager anticipation of the pain.
He stepped back and began a quickly building rhythm over her thighs, her breasts, the tender undersides of her arms. The rubber was a biting sting on her flesh. She was moaning, gasping, yelping. He kept at it, the pain building until it was something more than sensation, her body producing endorphins at an alarming rate, making her fly. Then the lovely brain chemicals started to bottom out and it was just her alone with the pain. She screamed it out, and still he kept at it.
Her vision dimmed, went black.
When she opened her eyes he was pressed up against her, his big body warming her. He had a gentle hand on her cheek, a bottle of water at her mouth.
“I’ve got you. Drink, pretty girl. You’re doing great. Amazing.”
She took a few swallows.
He swept her hair back, looked into her eyes. ‘Shall I take you down?”
“No. Please, Finn. Sir.”
He watched her, his pale brows furrowed. He pressed his fingers into her wrist, feeling for her pulse, she knew, trying to be certain she was okay.
“I can take more,” she told him. “I want it.”
After a few moments he nodded. Then he bent to release her ankles from the shackles. He stood and kissed her mouth, pulled away before she’d had enough.
She needed more. Needed him.
Please…
He went back to work on her with a suede flogger this time. It was sting and thud at the same time, he hit her so hard. Her body was absorbing the pain, turning it into pleasure again, the chemicals flooding her mind. She watched him, the bow and flex of muscle in his massive arms. The concentration on his face—the face that had become beautiful to her.
Finn.
God, she needed him.
The flogger hit her over and over. Pain and pain, Pleasure upon pleasure. And it became more than the physical sensation, but an extension of his strength, his body, his domination itself. Her head was filling up. But no, it wasn’t her head, it was her chest. Her heart.
She shook her head, tried to shake away the tears, but a sob escaped her lips.
“Finn…”
Then he was taking her down from the cross, carrying her to a big chair, where he held her in his lap, wrapped a blanket around her and held her tight. She tried to push away from him, ashamed of the tears.
“No, Finn. Stop. Please,” she begged.
“Rosie, I have you. Shh. Still yourself.”
“I can’t…I can’t do this. Please. I am not a crying kind of girl.”
“It’s okay,” he soothed.
“It is not okay. I am not okay. Fuck.”
She wasn’t. She didn’t want to need him so damn much. Not even in this realm, where he was her Dominant. No. Not hers. Only hers for now.
The tears went rolled down her cheeks.
God fucking damn it.
Chapter Eight
She was shaking in his lap, no matter how tightly he held her, whispered to her. It was tearing him up.
He’d had subs who cried during play, but not like this. Or maybe it was that he felt so much a part of her…a part of what they were doing together.
He stroked her silky hair, her smooth cheek, wiped the tears away with his thumb. He
He kept pinching, his fingers so damn strong, hard and hurting. She panted out the pain, dizzy with it, making her squirm as much as she could in her bonds, the chain pulling against her pussy lips, her clit. Some part of her was unable to believe he could pinch so hard with just his fingers. She groaned. He pinched harder.
“God fucking damn it!” she yelled, and heard his chuckle before he released her sore flesh.
“That’s it,” he said in her ear once more. “Breathe. Ride it out.”
She did as he said, pulling in a long breath, then another.
He was in front of her when she opened her eyes. He held a long rubber flogger in his hands. She flinched. Rubber fucking hurt . Yet her pulse hummed in eager anticipation of the pain.
He stepped back and began a quickly building rhythm over her thighs, her breasts, the tender undersides of her arms. The rubber was a biting sting on her flesh. She was moaning, gasping, yelping. He kept at it, the pain building until it was something more than sensation, her body producing endorphins at an alarming rate, making her fly. Then the lovely brain chemicals started to bottom out and it was just her alone with the pain. She screamed it out, and still he kept at it.
Her vision dimmed, went black.
When she opened her eyes he was pressed up against her, his big body warming her. He had a gentle hand on her cheek, a bottle of water at her mouth.
“I’ve got you. Drink, pretty girl. You’re doing great. Amazing.”
She took a few swallows.
He swept her hair back, looked into her eyes. ‘Shall I take you down?”
“No. Please, Finn. Sir.”
He watched her, his pale brows furrowed. He pressed his fingers into her wrist, feeling for her pulse, she knew, trying to be certain she was okay.
“I can take more,” she told him. “I want it.”
After a few moments he nodded. Then he bent to release her ankles from the shackles. He stood and kissed her mouth, pulled away before she’d had enough.
She needed more. Needed him.
Please…
He went back to work on her with a suede flogger this time. It was sting and thud at the same time, he hit her so hard. Her body was absorbing the pain, turning it into pleasure again, the chemicals flooding her mind. She watched him, the bow and flex of muscle in his massive arms. The concentration on his face—the face that had become beautiful to her.
Finn.
God, she needed him.
The flogger hit her over and over. Pain and pain, Pleasure upon pleasure. And it became more than the physical sensation, but an extension of his strength, his body, his domination itself. Her head was filling up. But no, it wasn’t her head, it was her chest. Her heart.
She shook her head, tried to shake away the tears, but a sob escaped her lips.
“Finn…”
Then he was taking her down from the cross, carrying her to a big chair, where he held her in his lap, wrapped a blanket around her and held her tight. She tried to push away from him, ashamed of the tears.
“No, Finn. Stop. Please,” she begged.
“Rosie, I have you. Shh. Still yourself.”
“I can’t…I can’t do this. Please. I am not a crying kind of girl.”
“It’s okay,” he soothed.
“It is not okay. I am not okay. Fuck.”
She wasn’t. She didn’t want to need him so damn much. Not even in this realm, where he was her Dominant. No. Not hers. Only hers for now.
The tears went rolled down her cheeks.
God fucking damn it.
Chapter Eight
She was shaking in his lap, no matter how tightly he held her, whispered to her. It was tearing him up.
He’d had subs who cried during play, but not like this. Or maybe it was that he felt so much a part of her…a part of what they were doing together.
He stroked her silky hair, her smooth cheek, wiped the tears away with his thumb. He
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