He took the other flogger from under her chin. Ivy closed her eyes at the relief.
“And a matching pair.” He opened one clothespin and set it around her areola.
“Fuck.” The damned things hurt.
He took the other clothespin, smiling like the Dom that had his submissive exactly where he wanted her and placed it on her other breast.
Hot damn, they pinched. She’d much prefer nipple clamps.
“Look at my pretty sub.” He trailed his fingers between her breasts, down along her hips, stopping where she wanted them most. “I’m going to see if I can flog off these clothespins.”
Sometimes, she regretted telling Gabe she liked kink. Sometimes. Not now. This is exactly what she wanted.
He stood back and threw the floggers. They figured eight through the air in a beautiful pattern too fast to follow.
Her breath hitched in her throat. And the strands landed on the top of her breasts.
She screamed in delight, in pleasure.
And they came down hard again, the tips hitting the clothespin on her left breast.
“Close enough.” He marched over and took the clothespin off her nipple.
“Dammit!” The blood rushed back painfully to her nipple.
“Nothing you can’t take, Princess.” Gabe tugged and rolled her nipple in his fingers. He fisted his hand in her hair, half in praise and half too roughly for that and stepped back.
Her heart danced as the floggers flew. She closed her eyes as the tips landed on her breast.
He struck again.
The leather burned now where it landed, her skin on fire. She knew she was soaked between her legs.
“Sir!” The leather stripe landed right on the tip of the clothespin.
“Got it.” The satisfied look on his face sent a shudder of delight through her.
“Ready? I want to hear, ‘thank you, Sir,’ as soon as I take this off.”
Ivy nodded.
He ripped the clothespin off her nipple.
“Fuck! Thank you, Sir.” Her pussy clenched as drool slid down her face.
“Good girl,” Gabe said, his hand cupping the back of her neck.
He took the clothespin off her tongue. Ivy swallowed, exhaling.
Gabe massaged her shoulders and kissed her hungrily, his lips gobbling hers.
The taste of him, against the heated, pleasured pain on her back, left her wanting.
“I’m going to uncuff you now, and then I want you to stand by the table.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her tongue taking a moment to form the words.
He freed her right wrist, took it between his strong hands, and massaged it. “Good, Princess?”
