I'm not here for courtesy
Ronan pushes up from the couch and his hand hovers above the top of my head.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
My breathing is shaky, but I manage to answer, “Yes, Ronan.”
“I’m going to touch you now, and we’re going to start,” he says. “Unless you’re not comfortable yet and want to talk some more.”
“I’m ready.” The longer I drag this out, the more likely I am to completely back out and go home alone and unsatisfied. He raises that eyebrow at me again and I shiver.
“I’m ready, Ronan,” I whisper.
He drops his hand onto my head and cards his fingers through my hair, then he fists the strands and tugs. I fall to the floor ungracefully, and he drags me to the other side of the room where he hauls me back to my feet and shoulders me into the wall. I land with anoomph.
I wasn’t expecting this.
Or him.
“Don’t move,” he says, and I don’t. Whether it’s because my body wants to obey or because I’m frozen in place, I don’t know.
He steps away and comes back with cuffs, but they’re not leather like I’m used to. They’re metal, and they’re cold around my wrists. He loops a rope through their rings and throws it through the hoop that hangs from the ceiling. My arms stretch above my head as he pulls the rope taut, until I’m almost on my toes.
Ronan lets me struggle to regain my balance, waiting until I have, then he comes closer and slides his hand over the obvious bulge between my legs. I’m hard already and he hasn’t even done anything. I must look like an amateur.
He pops the button on my pants and tugs the zipper then shoves my pants down my legs. They’re tight and I’m sweaty, and they catch around my knees, making me lose my balance. The cuffs cut into my wrists and my dick leaks. This is really happening. I’ve dreamt so long about this moment, this man, and now it’s here.
“Do you want to watch?” he asks, dragging his fingers up my sides and over my eyelids. They flutter at the touch and close.
I don’t know if I do.
“Maybe for a little bit,” Ronan answers for me. I take it like an order and force my eyes open. He’s standing in front of me, and he looks so docile and trustworthy, but we both know the truth. He’s here to hurt me. And I’m here to like it.
He steps away and opens the cabinets again, digging around in the toys until he produces a heavy looking flogger. The tails are thick and have chevrons cut into the ends. It looks like it’s going to hurt me, and my cock jerks. I expect him to start on my back. That’s where everyone always starts.
The back.
The ass.
Sometimes the legs.
But that’s not what Ronan does. He pulls the flogger to the side and lays a sharp strike across my chest. The air breezes across my face, smelling of disinfectant and leather, and the tails bite into my skin like dozens of sharp little daggers. I gasp and arch into him, dropping my head back, and he strikes me again.
My nipples burn and my chest is warm as he swings. He’s not close to breaking the surface, but the blood pools beneath my skin—hot and needy, pumping through my veins. He drags the flogger down my chest and twirls the falls over the head of my leaking cock.
I gasp and jump, and he locks his eyes on mine and hits me there. The thick Vs of leather feel like razors against the delicate underside of my shaft, and I cry out, jerking in my bonds. He chuckles and hits me again.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks. It’s a check in, a standard, common courtesy, but I’m not here for courtesy. I’m here because I want to be flayed apart. Destroyed. Consumed. Beaten. My orgasm is trying to crawl out of my pores and I shake my head rapidly.
“Don’t stop.”
He swings again and hits me, the thud of the falls hard and heavy against my erection, and every muscle inside me tightens. He hasn’t told me I can’t come—that wasn’t something we discussed—so I don’t bother trying to stop it when my balls empty.
Cum spurts out of my dick, spattering into the ends of the flogger and slicking down my shaft. My cock jerks violently, and he doesn’t stop hitting me, over and over until my cheeks are wet with tears and spittle from my blubbering.
My cheeks flush, and I’m ashamed that I’ve come so soon. He’s barely gotten started and I’m spouting off like a high schooler, but Ronan makes no mention of it. He merely tosses the flogger onto the floor and pulls a black leather glove out of his pocket. He makes a show of putting it on, forcing one finger at a time into the tight material and flexing his hand once it’s on. The leather crinkles around his knuckles and he reaches down and fists my cock, squeezing tight and jerking me until I’m hard again.He digs his thumb into my slit, pushing down and spreading the skin apart. I’m hot and sensitive and I sniffle, unable to form a single word. I’m hurting but I’m in heaven and my cock is…
I don’t even know.
