Letting Go (Surrender Trilogy #1)(61)

She closed her eyes, his words washing over her like the sweetest of balms. He gave her peace. Reassurance. That she could be who she truly wanted to be with him. That he wouldn’t judge her nor would he be disappointed in her if she did back out. His tenderness only made her more determined that she’d take anything he dished out and beg for more.

She crawled onto the bed, her limbs shaking, her entire body quivering with need. Harsh, edgy craving. She wanted him—what he could give her—more than she’d wanted anything else in her life.

This was the first step in claiming her destiny. Of becoming the woman she’d always wanted to be. Of claiming the man she’d always wanted. Her past melted away. Thoughts of Carson fled. She loved him—would always love him—and this was no betrayal of her marriage.

Peace enveloped her in its tender embrace. Surrounding her, filling her heart. Much as Dash had in only a few short days. How could she have never known?

Because she’d never opened her eyes fully. She’d never looked at him, truly looked. And now that she’d finally seen him, she recognized him as the missing piece of her soul.

“Arms up,” Dash ordered.

She arranged her arms over her head, supporting herself on her forearms but holding her hands up for him to coil the rope around her wrists.

He wrapped the soft rope around one wrist and then stretched the rope to the post at the corner. Then he took another piece and repeated the process on the other side so both wrists were bound, the rope pulled tight so there was no give.

When he finished her hands, he went to the bottom of the bed and secured each ankle before stretching the rope to both posts, effectively rendering her motionless. There was no possible way for her to move.

Her thoughts were muddled, scrambled, and she searched for what he’d said was the next step. Then her breath caught. The plug. He’d said he was going to insert the plug and then flog her.

Her pulse accelerated the moment his hand slid over her bu**ocks, petting and caressing until she was twitching with need. Then he pulled away. She tried to look over her shoulder but it put too much strain on her shoulders so she faced ahead, waiting breathlessly for what came next.

His hand moved back to her behind, parting her cheeks and then she felt the cool shock of lubricant. He traced the seam, pausing at the entrance, smearing the gel over the opening. Then he pushed in with just a fingertip and her breath caught.

Her body protested the barest of penetrations, squeezing and rejecting his finger. But he persisted, exerting firm pressure until it slid inward to his knuckle. She gasped, jolted by the sudden breach.

He leaned down and kissed the plump cheek of her behind and then nipped her flesh with his teeth. Using her distraction, he slid in another finger, more lubricant easing its pathway.

He began to stroke, in and out, lubricating her passageway. After several long moments that drove her insane he withdrew his fingers and then squeezed more of the gel over the seam. Then she felt the blunt head of the plug probing gently at her tight ring. He pushed inward the barest amount before withdrawing it and pushing forward once more.

He slipped his free hand underneath to her belly and then down, through her folds to her tingling clit. He began stroking her, rubbing in a tight circle as he forced the plug deeper into her body.

Her pu**y was quivering with need, wet with desire, and she found herself trying to push back against the plug, wanting—needing—more.

“That’s it, darling,” he murmured. “Almost there. Embrace it. The pain will pass. Reach for it, hold on to it. Allow the pleasure to take over.”

His fingers slipped lower, rimming her vaginal opening while he pushed the plug even farther. It was now at its widest point, stretching her impossibly. The burn was intense but his fingers were working magic on her clit and pu**y. She was nearly mindless, restless and edgy, fighting off her impending orgasm because she knew without the intense buildup the plug would only hurt.

Just when she thought she couldn’t stand another minute, it was as if her body caved in, completely surrendered and allowed the plug access. His fingers left her clit and she breathed in deep, steadying breaths, sweat beading her forehead as shallow pants burst from her lips.

He kissed her bottom again and then pressed another kiss to the small of her back.

“Give yourself a moment to come down,” he said quietly. “I want you so on edge when I finally f**k your ass that you’ll be mindless with pleasure. I’m getting the flogger now. I want you to think about how the kiss of leather will feel on your skin. Don’t shy away from the pain. Embrace it. Because after the pain comes the pleasure. For many women, pain is the gateway to subspace. Once you reach that level, you’ll feel nothing but the sweetest of pleasures. I’ll get you there, Joss. Trust me to get us both there.”

She nodded, incapable of speech. She wanted his mark on her skin. Wanted to feel the fiery sensation of the leather slapping her skin. Everything she’d heard about, read about, fantasized about was about to happen.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of his movements. And then she heard the sharp smack of leather. Her eyes jerked open. The noise had jarred her from her dreamlike state, but there was no pain. It took her a moment to realize that he hadn’t struck her. Not yet.

She flinched when he touched the leather flap to her spine near the base of her skull and slowly slid it down her back to her bu**ocks where the plug split her cheeks. She held her breath, anticipating, waiting. But nothing happened.