Page 61 of The Devil’s Feather

“A good corset would be delicious on you. Pick some out later. And yes, I can close this one. Tightlaced, it is about a four-inch reduction.”

I kissed his back, between his shoulder blades, on the scars. “Flatterer. You’re so solid, I’m surprised you can reduce that much.”

Working from the top down and the bottom up, I pulled the loops from the center to line the edges up parallel. As expected, even with the corset’s hip spring, Rafael’s body resisted compression. I threw my weight into the sturdy laces, pulling as hard as I could. Slowly, the edges came together, and the corset closed. I kept the tension to tie the knot and tucked the ends.

“Whew, got me working up a sweat, and I haven’t even taken a swing at you yet.” I circled him, admiring my handiwork.

The waspie—more of a vee with a squared-off hip shelf than a true hourglass, since it was designed for his body—accentuated the slenderness of his waist to the extreme, making his upper body look even more imposing. It cupped his hips like a lover, skimming just above his pubic bone in the front. My pussy pulsed, fluttering to life. God, what I wouldn’t give to see him naked and hard right now. As if he heard my thoughts, his cock stirred.

Fueled by the sight, I grabbed the same cuffs as before and hoisted his arms over his head.

I stretched to my tiptoes to whisper, “I’m going to hit you until you’re nice and hard, then I’m going to sit back and touch myself while you come in your pants.”

Rafael groaned, and his cock jumped, tenting the fabric of his pants. “I like this game. Use that big one,” he nodded toward the largest of my dildos on the shelf.

I slapped his face, following through with my body weight. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

His head snapped to the side, chains rattling, and laughed with wild abandon. “Vicious. Who knew you had that in you?”

I slapped the other cheek. He grinned, teeth pinked by the slight trickle of blood where I’d split his lip.

“Shit, I didn’t realize I’d hit you that hard. Are you ok?”

Rafael tongued the cut. “You call that hard, little girl?”

“Why did I only now realize that you’re a fucking brat, too?”

I snatched the first implement within reach off the rack: a brutal-looking wood paddle with air holes and rounded metal studs. It whistled in a lower voice than the cane as it struck Rafael’s shoulders.

He leaned his head back. “Are you trying to tickle me? Use both hands and swing it like a bat.”

So I did and got a mildly satisfying grunt out of him. I swung again and again. Each time the paddle connected hard enough to sway him in the chains, he hummed with approval. Welts came up fast, and the divots left by the studs darkened with bruising. He was right about my needing conditioning; as I worked him over, I tired rapidly.

Rafael showed no signs of reaching his limit. I circled to his front. He tracked my every movement with eyes so intense they were almost otherworldly.

“If I bring your arms down and give you enough slack, can you step through and put your hands behind your back without me having to unlock you?”

He rattled the chains. “Just fucking do it.”

I smacked his corseted belly with the paddle hard enough to elicit another grunt. He did as I asked with surprising agility.

I locked the cuffs together again behind his back and pulled a padded mat out in front of him. “Get on your knees.”

He bared his teeth. “Make me.”

Of course. I circled behind him and kicked the back of his knee. His leg buckled, but he corrected his balance immediately. Damn! I rooted through the rack of implements, trading the paddle for a baton. He watched with bright curiosity.

When poking him in the back of the knee with the long end didn’t work, I hauled off and swung it. Rafael grunted. His legs quivered, but he did not go down.

“Fuck you for never skipping leg day.” I took up a two-handed grip and swung again, harder.

I swung again before he corrected, and this time he went down. Rafael laughed as his knees hit the mat. His erection never wavered. That fierce sexual delight emboldened me to leap right over leaning in and go for the deep dive—20,000 Leagues Under the Pervert Sea.

I traded the baton for a riding crop, using it to tilt his chin up. “How does your cock feel?”

“Heavy,” Rafael said slowly.

My clit pulsed at the sensual timber of his voice. “And your balls?”