Page 33 of Safe Word

‘Be a good girl and come for me, Scarlett,’ he growled, the sound grating low and raw, its edges torn with his own rising need.

My gaze locked onto him, and the sight only tuned up what was building inside me.

His hand moved faster as he pleasured himself, the tip of him glistening in the dim light. The thumb of his other hand stayed poised over the ring, controlling the vibrations with cruel efficiency, dialling them up and down as if he were attuned to the exact rhythm of my body. I couldn’t tear my eyes away – every stroke of his hand sent a filthy thrill through me – a raw pulse that tightened between my hips. It was a need so violent, so sharp and liquid that it dragged a moan from my throat that had nothing – and everything – to do with the sensation the clip was causing.

He stopped. Fist stilling around his cock.

A slow click echoed – once – until the ring silenced the pulsing torment between my legs.

Air was a luxury.

Oh no…

The pause was worse than the rhythm.

‘What did I say?’ Soft as smoke. Twice as lethal.

I bit down on a whimper, eyes fluttering shut until I could feel my own tongue again. ‘Not to make a sound.’

He rose like something ancient – like a god unburied from the earth.

On his way, his hand dipped into the duffel, fingers closing around something I couldn’t see.

When he stepped towards me, the item stayed hidden behind his thigh.

My gut turned to ice.

Then to heat.

He stopped so close I could smell the leather in his hand.

Those obsidian contacts didn’t just hide him – they consumed him – consumed me.

‘Did you make a sound?’ he asked.

My lips parted, my breath trembling out.

‘Yes.’

Crack!

Round, tightly bound leather tails lashed across the swell of my thigh like a burning kiss that made my spine jolt.

Bright and wild, pain flared, then twisted into heat.

His hand curled around my chin, tilting my face up until I could see my own breath fogging the surface of his mask.

And I realised… it wasn’t the lash that stunned me – it was the hunger it left behind.

Sensations tangled until I couldn’t tell them apart: the sting, the heat, desire, desperation.

My thighs pressed together, but it was useless against the chains.

God…

I wanted more.

He dragged the flogger down my front this time, knowing exactly what he’d done – and what I was holding back. It moved slowly, letting each tail slither over my nipples like a caress – teasing and featherlight before falling softly to his side.