God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2)(57)

Anticipation and thrill mix together, warring inside me until I think I’ll throw up.

My breath catches when the noise stops and I feel him hovering over me, watching me silently, expectantly.

Then something cold touches my stomach and slides down to the waist of my panties.

“C-Creighton?”

“I love it when you call my name in that scared little voice. It turns me on.”

A whole-body shiver slashes through me because I have no doubt that my fear is his catalyst and that he gets off on it and my pain.

Still sliding the cold—now warmer—thing over my stomach, he bunches my panties with his fist, pulling them against my clit.

My body arches off the bed as inexplicable pleasure washes through me. How could the helplessness and the darkness turn me on this much?

I’m so sensitive that a mere rub of my clothes is enough to send me into overstimulation.

A slitting sound brings me out of my reverie.

Air hits my core as my panties are removed. And then something plastic is placed at my mouth.

“Suck.”

I part my lips at his command and wrap them around what feels like a ball.

“Good girl.”

My movements become more enthusiastic at his praise, and I suck and lick as if it were his cock.

Too soon, Creighton pulls out whatever he put in my mouth and runs it down my clit, between my folds. He teases, rubbing and sliding it through my wetness until I’m writhing.

Then he thrusts it inside me. I jerk as the object—a sex toy, I assume—fills me. And then a slow humming starts in my core and against my clit.

A shiver goes through me at the tame stimulation, almost like a tender touch, which Creighton is too cold to ever offer.

“We’ll play a game.” He glides the tip of the object he first touched me with over the hard tips of my nipples. “If you don’t come by the end of your five punishment strokes, I’ll let you go. If you do come, however…you’re mine to devour.”

I gulp, but it turns to a full-on shriek when his first slap lands on my tender breasts.

Fire spreads across my skin and eats me up from the inside out. The place where he struck me burns and tingles in a chaotic mayhem.

It’s a crop, I think. He’s punishing me with a crop.

Holy shit. I didn’t sign up for this.

Or did I?

Creighton has always been transparent about who he is and what his tendencies are. He’s never once said he’d offer me normal or vanilla.

Hell, he even bluntly announced that he doesn’t date, doesn’t believe in the whole relationship charade, and has deviant tastes.

Singular cravings.

Violent tendencies.

With time, I’ve figured out he’s a natural Dom and an unabashed sadist who’s brought out the masochist in me.

In a way, I’ve been falling into that rhythm, into his abnormality. I like the freedom that loss of control offers.

I relish the feeling of not having to count my every step, be a perfect mafia princess and everyone’s favorite person.

I crave the depravity and freedom he offers in a ‘take it or leave it’ deal.

But maybe I overestimated my pain tolerance abilities.

When the second slap comes, tears soak the blindfold and stream down my cheeks. The safe word is at the tip of my tongue.

I can end this.

If I choose to, I’ll end this.

The third strike hits me with something completely different than excruciating pain. The vibration in my core and clit heightens until it’s everything I feel.

By the fourth stroke, a moan and a sob tear from the back of my throat.

Pleasure pools between my legs and I try to clench them together, but that only tightens the binds around my ankles.

A foreign itch starts in my core, burning, waiting, throbbing for release.

I want to come.

I want to come.

I want to come.

I’ve never experienced this type of stimulation before and I think it’ll be the death of me. That, somehow, I’ll faint right here, right now with the need to just come.

“Creigh…p-please…please…” I don’t recognize my voice or the lust in it.

I don’t recognize the need rippling, aching, contracting in my core.

He runs his crop over my hard nipples and I shudder.

“This is supposed to be a punishment, little purple, remember? And yet your cunt is dripping a pool on the mattress. So messy.”

“Please…please…”

“Please what?” He teases the tips of my excruciatingly painful and stimulated breasts. “Let you come?”

Unable to find words, I nod frantically.

“But that’s a privilege exclusive to good girls, and you haven’t been one tonight, Annika. Do not come.”

The crop swishes in the air before it slaps my nipples again.

I’m a goner.

The wave that slashes through me is so different from any other orgasm I’ve experienced before. The power of it nearly blinds me.

It’s a mixture of pain, pleasure, sobs, moans, and an unending throbbing ache.

It’s a symphony of contracting muscles and a flooding arousal.

My nails dig into the rope for dear life as I fall on and on with no landing in sight.

A low, dark tutting sound surrounds me.