“You can think in the morning. I’m gonna fuck you, and then we’re gonna sleep.”
I don’t get the sense that I have a say in the former, but the latter… “No fucking way am I sleeping.”
“We’ll see about that. Drop the towel and kneel.”
My nostrils flare as I release my death-grip on the towel and sink to my knees, filled with a restless sort of anger. Max circles me, like he always does, his eyes appreciatively drinking in every inch of me.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs. “So fuckingmine. Get up on the bed.”
He disappears into the closet, and I know that when he emerges, it’ll be with a bunch of strange BDSM gear that he keeps tucked away. I can’t stop him from fucking me, but I can certainly halt my own enjoyment of our activities, which is precisely what I intend to do.
I follow his instructions, climbing onto the bed. Since he didn’t specify a position, I sit with my arms crossed over my chest, hiding my breasts, and my legs hanging over the side, toes brushing the floor.
Despite myself, an anticipatory heat starts to fill my veins. I know what’s coming next, and even though I don’twantto want it, my body isn’t exactly getting the memo. I’m getting turned on by thethoughtof what Max will do to me alone.
He emerges and, just as expected, he’s holding an armful of things I don’t recognize and don’t evenwantto put a name to.
“You get one chance for this to go the easy way, Flame,” he says. “Tell me you want me to fuck you and that you’ll go to sleep afterwords.”
I eye the many elaborate straps and toys in his arms, suppressing the shiver that threatens to course up my spine. “Do whatever you want,” I manage to say. “It’s not going to change anything. I need space to think. I can’t stop you from invading that, but a diversion isn’t going to change my plans.”
“We’ll see about that. Give me your hands.”
“No.”
He pauses. Slowly,soslowly, arches an eyebrow. “You want to try that again?”
“No!” I snap. All of the frustration, irritation, and confusion that’s been building inside of me all day reaches a fever pitch. “Idon’twant to try that again. I’m not a doll you can position and do with as you please—I’m a fuckinghuman being. You can certainlytryto use the deal we struck to control me, but you will never,evertruly own me.”
“Alright.” He pauses for a beat, glancing me over. Then, his hand shoots out, swift as a serpent’s strike, and his fingers circle my wrist. I try to yank away, but he’s too strong, too determined, and far too fast. He uses his grip to flip me onto my front, where he wrenches my arms behind my back. I feel something cool slip over them,leather cuffs,and then, his weight disappears. I try to get my knees under me, to rear up, to tug my way out of the restraints, but a sharp jerk on my ankles flattens me on the bed.
I kick my feet and release a groan of frustration—I even manage to dislodge a foot—but more leather follows. This time, the cuffs are attached to a spreader bar, which holds me almost completely immobile.
“I think there’s a lesson to be learned here,” Max says. “If you’d asked to talk over your thoughtswith me,then I wouldn’t have moved forward withmyplans. Likewise, if you’d decidednotto resist, I wouldn’t have bound you this tightly. All of my reactions are a result of your actions. If you want different outcomes, change your behavior.”
“I fuckingdespiseyou,” I seethe, to which Max only responds with a dark chuckle.
“You’re about to hate me a whole lot more, then, because I’m going to punish the hell out of your perfect ass before fucking you until you’re incoherent.”
“Fine,” I hiss. “Do whatever it takes to make your perverted fucking brain happy.”
“I will. It’s going to end in you, screaming my name and coming as many times as I tell you to come, and then cuddling up to me and falling asleep.”
He says this like it’s a foregone conclusion, and it makes me want to scream again, but instead, I seal my lips. If he’s looking for a reaction, my best bet is to completely deprive him of one.
I hear a slight rustle as he picks something up. Then, azzzof some sadistic implement cuts through the air, before a hard impact lands on my ass. The hit isn’t horrifically painful—it stimulates the flesh it thunks down on rather than hurts, and it sends a shiver coursing up my spine.
“This is a flogger,” Max tells me. “Nine tails. It can feel quite pleasant—” he demonstrates this with a softer hit on my other ass cheek, whichalmostmakes me arch and moan in enjoyment, “—or it can be extremely fucking painful.”
The next hit is sharp, hard, and like he promised, ithurts.Badly.I bury my face in the mattress to suppress a cry of pain, determined not to give him a reaction.
He doesn’t seem to mind. He brings the flogger down on my ass, over and over again. For every few moderate, warming hits, he delivers one so sharp it makes me want toscream. Instead, I bury my face in the bedspread, choke down my cries, and try to ignore the languid heat that begins spreading through my body, starting from my burning ass and traveling through my core, my nipples, and worming its way through my veins.
Max keeps goinglongafter my burning ass becomes too much to bear. He’s relentless, not stopping to rest his arms or even ask me how I’m doing. Slowly, inch by inch, the rage starts to seep out of me. Something that feels suspiciously like submission overtakes my solar plexus, and after a while, I relax.
Max murmurs something under his breath. He gives me one last hit, the hardest yet, and then I hear him drop the flogger. We’re both breathing hard, me more so than him.
He slowly rests his cool hand on my ass, and it feels like heaven over the sensitized flesh. I press my sweaty forehead against the sheets, breathing deeply and reaching for some semblance of composure.
