In Flight (Up in the Air #1)(31)

He gave me an approving smile that was all teeth, followed by a sharp slap on the ass.

“Don’t move,” he told me, moving to the closest bedside table.

My eyes widened. I don’t know what I had expected when he said cut, but the sight of a knife in this room of pain sent a streak of panic through me.

How far would he go? How far would I let him go?

He laughed wickedly at the look on my face. “It’s just for cutting clothes. I would never cut your skin. The thought is abhorrent to me. I just want to blister it a little.”

He came back to me, grabbing the front of my bra and tugging it out from my br**sts, cutting it in one clean motion, directly between the cups. His gaze was glued to my small, rosy ni**les, and I felt them getting impossibly tighter by the second. He pinched them one by one, softly, then harder, finally giving them a firm pinch.

“How sensitive are they? Did you like the first touch better, or the last?” He pinched them harder still, and I moaned. “Or the fourth time?” he asked.

I swallowed. It was an easy answer for me. I just couldn’t seem to get the words out. I cleared my throat. “The fourth.”

“Good. I have something for you.” He walked back to the side table, reaching inside and taking out some sort of light silver chain.

He was back in front of me, fastening some kind of clamp onto both of my ni**les before I even had a clue what they were.

“Nipple clamps. Are they too tight?”

I shook my head, looking down at them. Each nipple was pinched by a small, peach colored clamp, the silver chain connected between them. He wrapped the chain around the back of my neck, fastening it there. The sight of that thin chain, and those hungry little clamps, and the feel, god, the feel, was so erotic that I had to press my thighs together to try to stop the rush of liquid there.

He sliced each side of my thong, removing it and stuffing it in his pocket.

“Climb on the bed,” he ordered me, his voice low and hoarse. I did so. “Climb over to that ramp until your knees are touching it. Yes, right there.”

I felt him climbing up right behind me. Just as my knees touched the ramp, his hand applied a firm pressure to the nape of my neck, pushing until I was face down on the ramp. My cheek lay on the broad end of the riding crop he had left there. My face was low, my ass lifted. Perfect spanking position, I thought.

“This isn’t your knee,” I told him.

He laughed, and it was a very pleased noise. “It is not. My lap isn’t a safe place for you at the moment. We’ll get to that, though, I promise.” As he spoke, I felt him slipping a rope over my ankle. He tightened it firmly, but it wasn’t at all uncomfortable.

“The more you struggle, the more these will chafe. Keep that in mind.” He secured my other ankle and my wrists with swift, economical movements.

He climbed back to a position behind me and the ramp. He leaned over me then, his torso pressing into my back, his groin against my butt. I wiggled, and a hard hand swatted me lightly.

“Hold still,” he told me, slipping the crop out from under my cheek. He lifted his weight completely off of me. I moaned at the loss. He swatted me with his hand for that, too.

There was a long pause while I waited for him, breath held.

“Do you have anything to say before I begin?” he asked me.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cavendish,” I told him, my tone repentant. Instinctively, I arched my back.

He made a delicious little humming noise in his throat and began to work. The first slap of the leather was more startling than painful, but the slaps got harder as he warmed up. As I had expected, I felt the pain, but my reaction to it wasn’t a negative one. I moaned and wriggled helplessly when the crop hit lower, closer to my sex. He began to slap the crop against me hard and fast.

Abruptly, he stopped. I had received only twenty slaps, distributed all over my butt and the backs of my thighs.

I arched and muttered a protest then and I could hear his breathing, harsh and uneven, behind me. I rubbed my clamped ni**les against the soft material of the ramp, liking the harsh bite of sensation it caused.

James remained still behind me for long moments.

“I need to stop there. I don’t want you too sore to lie on your back when I take you. Fuck. I can see the liquid running down your legs.” I felt his fingers stroking my thighs, sliding through the moisture there.

“We need to do a few things before I f**k you. I have a health exam on the table over there. I’ve been tested. All the results are clean. Do you want to see it? It’s available for you. I want to bury my c**k in you bare, if you’ll allow. You said you’re on the pill, right?”

I nodded. “I am. I’ll take your word for it. If I thought you would lie about something like that, I wouldn’t be letting you tie me up and pound the V-card out of me, now would I?”

He laughed, a happy sound, and I felt him kiss my cheek from behind in a surprisingly sweet gesture.

He slid the ramp from underneath me with no warning, knocking it right off the bed. I fell to the bed with a soft little whoosh.

He had my ankles free in the next instant, gripping them with his hands. He pushed me up higher on the bed, and in a shocking movement flipped me onto my back with just that contact. My arms twisted above my head, confining me even more. He had my legs spread wide when he tied them this time, and if I’d thought they were tight before, I’d been mistaken. I couldn’t move them at all now. No more wiggling for me.