“I understand,” I say.
“What do you do if I tell you to do something you don’t want?”
“Trust you,” I say.
“If you get scared?”
“I talk to you,” I laugh.
“What if I don’t address your fears?”
“You would, though,” I say. “I trust you, Gray. I want this.”
“Okay,” he says with a sweet smile as he pulls me up. He rinses my hair, but then kisses me. “Dry off and lie face down on the bed.”
“Okay!” I say happily. I get out and do as I am told.
I am lying on my belly for no more than a few minutes when Grayson joins me. “You want to see what I like to do?” he asks. “Experience what it would be like to be mine?”
“Yes,” I say softly.
“No safe word. No way out. Just patience and trust,” he says as he gently rubs my ass.
“I want to know.”
Grayson smacks my ass hard, and my skin burns, but I just sigh. He does it again and again, getting harder with every smack. The pain makes me relax, but as he increases intensity, I struggle to stay quiet.
“Fuck,” I groan when he smacks my ass again.
“You ready, pretty girl?” Grayson asks, gently rubbing my ass.
“For what?”
“Paddle or belt. Pick.”
“Paddle.”
“Belt it is,” he says, snapping the leather across my ass. I don’t scream. No, I moan. It’s loud, broken, and I love it. The next hit slaps across my lower back, and he chuckles when I whimper. Thighs. Ass. Mid-back. The belt slaps across my back over andover again. My body is tense, and I am in tears, but I can feel it building. I say nothing, praying he doesn’t stop.
“My sweet little masochist. Are you going to come?” Grayson asks, hitting me harder. “Tell me.”
Smack.
“Say it, Milly. You love the way I hurt you.”
Smack.
“Yes,” I moan
“Say it,” Grayson growls.
Smack
“Yes! Please, hurt me. I love it. Please,” I yell at him. Instead of continuing, Grayson suddenly flips me to my back. I’m confused until he dips his head and wraps his arms around my thighs. His teeth clamp down on my clit, and he sucks. A scream rips from my chest, and my hips buck. An orgasm explodes out of me, but he’s not done.
Grayson continues to bite, suck, and lick my now ultra-sensitive clit until I am crying. It’s not just regular tears, it’s sobbing and moaning. I’m begging him to stop, but we both know I don’t mean it. I’d happily die under this man’s mouth.
“Please! I can’t,” I cry. “Oh, God. No. Fuck. Please stop. No, no, no. Not again. Fuck. Gray, please. Oh fuck. I’m coming. Oh, please stop. I’m coming.”
