I hit her again. And again. Her skin begins to pinken, the marks blooming under my control.
Then I flip the switch. This time, when the crop lands, she jolts, a gasp slipping from her lips, followed by a desperate moan, a sound that makes my cock twitch.
I don’t stop. Each shock sharpens her cries, each blow coaxes more. I drink in the sight of her trembling beneath me, her fists clenching against the cuffs, her body straining toward something she will never ask for.
Until I lower the crop between her thighs.
Her clit is already swollen and flushed. I flick it, and she bucks.
Then I strike it, just once, and her moan turns into something jagged and needy, like pain and pleasure tangled into one desperate scream.
I do it again. And again. Each cry breaking louder. Each jolt dragging her closer to the edge. UntilIdecide when she goes over it.
And not a second before.
My cock throbs to feel her wrapped around me, but that’ll wait. I’m not done with her yet.
I leave her trembling against the table and move to the dresser. My fingers work the combination on a bound leather case, anticipation crawling under my skin. When I take what I want from inside, her eyes go wide.
The sight of her fear and curiosity sends a dark satisfaction flooding through me.
“You have no idea what I’ve got planned for that tight cunt of yours.”
She squirms against the cuffs, hips shifting, glistening and spread for me like a feast. I click the vibrator on and press it to her clit, teasing circles until the tip slides inside. Her moans dissolve into panting whimpers as I push it deeper, feeding her more with each pass, watching her unravel.
She throws a glance back at me over her shoulder, hair sticking to her damp skin, breath stuttering.
I grab a fistful of it, dragging her head back, my mouth trailing across her ear. “You’re a perfect little toy, moya ptichka.”
“I’m not your toy.” Her eyes flash, denial dripping from every word, a last spark of insolence I want to taste.
“You’re whatever I decide you are.”
Before she can answer, I slam the vibrator deep until it’s seated in her. Her knees buckle, nails digging into the leather.
And then, slowly, I push my cock in beside it.
Her strangled gasp breaks into a moan. “Oh my God, what are you—oh f-f-fuck!”
“Such a filthy whore,” I growl, sinking deeper. “Taking everything I give you.”
My palm cracks across her ass, and she whimpers. I start to thrust, slow at first, then harder, keeping the toy where it is until she’s screaming her yeses into the leather, her body collapsing under the weight of it.
I don’t let up. I keep pounding into her while the vibrator thrums inside, pushing it deeper with my other hand, keeping her pinned open and helpless until she’s clawing at the table, trembling on the edge.
Her walls clench, taking me in deeper. Her cries sharpen, turning needier, more desperate.
“Oh God, yes, don’t stop.”
“Mm…” My voice drops to a low command against her neck. “Beg for it, ptichka. Tell me how badly you need my cock to finish you. Tell me how desperate you are.”
Her groan claws up her throat, and I sink in harder, grinding through the need.
“Beg,” I snap, my fingers curling in her hair. “Or I’ll leave you like this—tied up, aching, dripping—until you ask me properly.”
She gasps, hips jerking, but I hold her in place, still buried deep, with the toy pulsing alongside me.
“You want to come?” I roll my hips once, nice and slow, pushing into her. “Then let me hear it.” I give her another ruthless thrust. “Beg like a good girl.”
