The tip of his tongue sticks out and trails back up me the same way it went down, licking every goosebump in its path.
He makes it back to my neck, and draws his head back slightly. “I can see the veins in your neck throbbing. Your heartbeat is erratic and fast. Are you scared, amore?”
“A little,” I admit, though it’s a lie. I’m more than a little bit afraid. Not that I can tell him that because then he’ll stop.
He’s close to losing it, and I want to catch him when he does. So I tell a lie that I know will get me in trouble if he figures it out. Anything to get close to him.
“You know I can tell when you’re lying? Your jaw tics when you do.”
I drop my chin while making a fist for the blow I know is coming. And despite how prepared I am for it, I flinch anyway. This time it’s his belt that I feel right underneath my ass. Easton kisses my neck, and the sensation of him licking circles along the space beneath my ear distracts me from the pain from the hit.
I swallow as he yanks my panties, tugging until the front of them rubs against my clit.
“Mm. Four,” I let out around a shaky breath.
“Your little pussy is probably about to explode. Isn’t it?”
I nod.
Smack.
“Mm,” I whimper. “Five.”
Smack. Smack.
“S-six. Seven.” I groan.
“You didn’t say: Yes, Sir.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He uses both hands to grip the thin string that keeps my underwear together and pulls until they rip. “Just obey,” he continues while weeding the torn material from between my legs, the fabric still teasing my sex.
“Mm. Mm.”
Easton steps around me, bringing my panties to his nose. He inhales deeply, his eyes rolling back. “Do you know how good you smell, Arloe?”
I shake my head. “No, Sir.”
He fiddles with them, our gaze landing on the wet spot in the center of the crotch at the same time.
“Have you ever tasted yourself?”
“No, Sir.”
He drags his eyes to mine, his pupils appearing inky black in this dim lighting. My pussy muscles clench because I already know where this is going.
“Hold out your tongue and spread your legs.”
I do what he says, and he runs my arousal over my tongue. First, it’s sweet. I let out a moan, surprised at my own taste. I can see him grin, like he’s enjoying this more than me. He pushes the fabric onto my tongue harder, giving way to a more earthy taste of myself. I moan again, then he stuffs them further into my mouth, using them as a gag. Fear builds in my chest; silencing me can only mean it’s going to get harder. How can I use my safe word if I can’t speak?
But I remember that he told me to trust him, and I know that he’d never do anything to purposely hurt me. So I push my nerves away and stand in place, waiting for him to have his way with me.
Easton strokes the side of my face before grabbing my neck then dragging his hand down to my right breast. He slaps me there—hard.
“Eight,” I manage to mumble around the makeshift gag.
“Good girl.” He pecks my cheek while slipping a finger between my folds.
