Sweet Temptation (Sweet #4)(74)

He lifted her legs, supporting her as she hung by the leather ties around her wrists. Even as he lifted, he spread her, baring her pu**y to his avid gaze.

“You have the prettiest pu**y,” he murmured, his mouth just a breath away from her most intimate flesh. “So small and feminine. I love to watch my dick open you up, see you stretched so tight around me that I wonder if you can take all of me.”

He looped her legs over his shoulders, and slid one hand to the soft folds between them. He ran a finger down her slit and back up again. At the top, he delved inward, finding the hood of flesh that sheltered her clit. He traced the edge, flaring it outward before finally touching the pulsing button.

She closed her eyes and threw back her head, her hands straining at her bonds. And then his mouth found her. Hot, damp and urgent. He tongued her, licking lower down to her entrance and then back up again to swirl around her clit.

Using his fingers, he parted her flesh and began lapping, his rough tongue setting fire to her insides. Over and over again he licked, teasing and torturous.

He found her opening and teased the rim. Circling, his tongue flicked with the lightest of brushes. And then he latched on, sucking hard as if he wanted to taste everything she had to offer.

It was simply too much. She exploded into his mouth and he never let up. Her anguished cry echoed across the room. Her legs trembled and quaked against his head, and still he wouldn’t let up.

Slowly and tenderly, her worked her down from her orgasm, licking and soothing her pulsing flesh. When he finally released her, she sagged like a deflated balloon.

Her pulse raced, and she heaved for air as he collected one of the many whips from the wall. This was no silken flogger meant to titillate more than bring pain.

He doubled it over then brushed it under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Do you want a safe word, Angelina? Do you want to be able to quit?”

She shook her head. “I trust you.”

“Then you’re a fool,” he bit out.

“You’ll know when to stop,” she said resolutely, so much conviction shining in her voice that she throbbed. “You’ll know when I can’t take any more.”

His eyes flickered, and his mouth drew into a grim line. With those words she had ceded complete and utter power to him. He was solely responsible for her well-being.

“So be it.”

He walked soundlessly behind her, and she closed her eyes, waiting for that first lash. It was always the worst. Unexpected and shocking. Afterward she’d know what to expect.

The whip sliced through the air, and only a faint whistle alerted her a split second before fire blistered across her back.

She clamped her lips shut against the cry that threatened to burst out. Heat raced across her flesh, leaving a sharp ache in its wake. After the initial bloom of pain, pleasure blossomed and radiated through her abdomen.

Her ni**les tightened and her pu**y pulsed in anticipation. This was her sweet. Her sugar rush to end all rushes. Pain was a high for her that could never be explained. Only experienced.

The second lash came harder, surprising her with its intensity. She gasped and then held on to the sensation, not wanting it to fade away.

When he took too long to administer the third lash, she moaned her disappointment. His hand tangled in her hair and he yanked her head back, his lips pressing against her temple.

“I’m in charge here, Angel. Not you. I call the shots. This isn’t about your pleasure or pain. It’s mine. You’re mine. You just have to stand here and take it.”

He released her hair then backed away again. She swallowed rapidly, trying to quell the rise of anticipation that threatened to overwhelm her.

Breathe. She had to remember to breathe.

Her body jerked, the leather straps digging into her wrists as she reacted to the third lash. Tears swamped her eyes, and she breathed raggedly through her open mouth. Oh God. Red. So much red. It gathered in her periphery and the room swirled around her.

Four. Five. Six. The lashes fell, the sound sharp. She twisted and writhed, but she endured without a sound.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

A low hum settled in her ears and she floated, no longer feeling the strain on her wrists. She was enveloped by warmth, soft and comforting. She smiled even as she closed her eyes in anticipation of the next lash.

This. This is what she craved. The high after the pain. The edge and then toppling over. It was dreamy, smooth, more exotic than anything else she’d ever experienced.

He walked around the front and she opened her eyes. He was nude, his c**k stiff and distended. Beautiful. So beautiful. His body was sculpted and molded as if someone had lovingly crafted him by hand. His hair hung wild to his shoulders, unruly, like him. Savage.

She saw a kindred soul when she looked into his eyes. Could he see one in hers? Did he recognize her?

The whip came up and flicked across her belly, not as hard as he’d struck her back, but the shock sent her flinching away. Before she could process the sensation, he flipped his wrist and the whip stung across her right breast, perilously close to her nipple. Then her left breast.

She found herself pushing forward, wanting the contact, her ni**les surging, tightening, wanting to feel the kiss of the whip.

He feathered welts in a distinct pattern across her chest and abdomen but always missing her ni**les. She panted and then sucked air through her nose. She needed. God, she needed.