Mile High (Up in the Air #2)(58)
mean little tails.
He softly caressed my upper thighs first, using his foot to part my legs, snaking that little feather in dangerously close to my wet core. I felt the feather drag a little through the moisture there, and heard James suck in a gasp. But there was still no pause as he pulled back the feather and struck with the whip in almost the same motion, as though they were two sides of the same object. I wondered, rather distantly, if they were.
He struck my thighs again and again, stopping abruptly, but I knew that if I had been counting, it would have timed the same as the feather.
My head fell back, and I sucked in harsh breaths when the light touch made contact with my br**sts. He caressed the fleshy globes for long moments, thankfully only briefly teasing at my tortured ni**les. When he began to whip me there, I shuddered, my body on the brink of release when he stopped.
He stared at me for the longest time, until I heard him unzip his pants.
I wanted to sob in relief just at the sound.
He moved to my back. “That’s enough of a lesson and a punishment, I think,” he said, his voice rough and affected. Just how I wanted it.
His smooth chest moved against my back as he leaned into me from behind. “Grip the chains more tightly,” he told me, his hard hands settling on my hips.
I obeyed eagerly.
“Arch your back. More.”
I felt the tip of his c**k at my entrance. It poised there for long moments, quivering against me. He entered me, but not how I wanted, not with a hard thrust, as I was wishing for. He worked his large length inside of me, inch by thick inch, working into my tight wet sheath agonizingly slowly. I wanted to cry. I wanted to beg.
His mouth moved to my ear. “Now you may beg me,” he whispered, as though reading my mind. I did beg, sobbing as I did so, the strap falling from my mouth, his permission acting as a floodgate. I begged with heartfelt feeling. He pulled out of me slowly when I’d finished. His mouth moved to the spot between my neck and shoulder, right on the tendon, that perfect sensitive spot, and he bit down savagely at the same moment that he plunged into me, hammering into me with the hardest, fastest thrust. It was a wonderful, brutal angle, my hips held immobile in his hands. I had no way to move with him or away from him, even my toes lifted slightly off the floor.
He bottomed out in me, reaching the end of me with a vicious twist of his hips.
He was making this perfect little noise low in his throat, deep but almost helpless, as though he couldn’t believe what was happening every time he slammed into the end of me. The third time he made that noise, I came, screaming.
He didn’t stop, still pounding , one hand snaking from my hip and up over my tortured breast. It hurt, my skin raw, but that pain seemed to jolt directly from my breast to deep inside my sex, where his stiff c**k still worked furiously.
The second release caught me like that, a mix of pleasure and pain, jolting through the parts of my body that he played like an instrument. I was perfectly tuned, but only to his expert touch.
His thrusts stuttered for a moment, the hand at my hip sliding forward from my hip and his finger began to circle my clit. He resumed his pace, the arm now anchored over me from waist to pelvis and his other hand still a vise on my breast. His hardness rocked into me with that furious pace.
He slammed, slammed, slammed, his breathing harsh and ragged enough that I could hear it over my own uncontrollable mewling.
“Come,” he ordered roughly.
I shuddered as the waves of pleasure took me for a third time. He allowed himself to come with me that time, and I felt him shuddering and pouring inside of me, making those sounds I loved deep in his throat.
His hard arms wrapped around my waist, his cheek touching the top of my head.
Was the tender lover back? I wanted that, had never wanted it more. I needed some reassurance that this coldness that had overtaken him wasn’t permanent. Only a night of it and I felt emotionally bereft.
But he released me quickly, pulling out of me, and I heard the chains clanking together as my arms went a little slack. It put me more solidly onto my feet, but my knees gave way almost instantly. The cuffs caught me right away, since he’d only lowered me a few inches.
“Get your balance back. Get some weight onto your feet,” James ordered, lowering the chain a few more inches.
I put more weight on my feet, catching my balance slowly, shifting from foot to foot until I felt like I could stand without aid. It took awhile.
He unwound the chains above me until I was taking all of my weight. He unlatched my cuffed hands. I didn’t have to hold my own weight for more than a split second before he swept me off my feet, cradling me like a child as he carried me across the room.
I stroked my cheek along his bare, sweaty chest. He felt divine. He smelled divine.
He laid me down on a firmly cushioned surface. It felt like being on an examination table at the doctors office. I hadn’t seen anything like it the last time I’d been in his playground, but I’d only been there once before, and I’d been more than a little distracted at the time
He drew my cuffed hands above my head, fastening them there. I tested the restraint. I didn’t even have an inch of slack. He fastened my feet to the bottom of the table, parted slightly. He used soft straps of some kind on each of my ankles, though I couldn’t have said what they were. I was still blindfolded, and it wasn’t anything he’d ever used on me before. I tested those restraints as well. There was no give at all. He definitely couldn’t f**k me in this position. My legs wouldn’t part far enough with the way I was bound.