Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(50)

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. He pressed a finger inside, past slick swollen tissues, making her core bloom with heat. His thumb settled beside her clit—and it was vibrating.

Oh, my God. The fine vibration continued, steadily and far too effective. Her clit hardened and swelled even as her pussy clamped down around his invading finger.

He bent and took one nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

Each lick and suck made her insides clench around him.

He slid his finger out, back in, repeating, each movement deliberate and slow. The tiny vibe attached to his thumb settled directly on top of her clit.

Her hips jerked, pressing forward. Anticipation stilled her breathing until nothing existed except his lips on her breast, the exquisite thrumming sensation on her clit, and the slow, merciless thrusting of his finger.

Sweat broke out on her skin. Her muscles grew taut. Her legs trembled. Please, just a bit more… She whimpered.

Reaching around her, he closed his free hand over her flogged bottom.

The shocking pain erupted into a surging, boiling pleasure—and ignited everything inside her. Driven up and up by the vibrations, by his touch, the waves of incredible release rippled upward and outward through her entire body, filling her so full of sensation that she could only hang from the chains and shake.

“There’s a good girl.” The smoky voice crooned in her ear as Holt held her against his hard body.

As her breathing eased, and her heart slowed, he drew back slightly. “Hey, Raoul, could I have an extra hand here?”

“Easy, sweetheart,” Holt murmured, his words so calm, she could let herself relax into a happy lethargy.

Her arms were released and lowered…and her legs gave out. Someone’s arm caught her around her waist and held her up. A blanket was wrapped around her.

“I’ve got her. Thanks, Raoul.”

“It was my pleasure, my friend.” The voice had a Hispanic accent.

“Down you go, pet.” Holt helped her to a sitting position on the floor, half-leaning against the rock wall. The floor was made of rocks, too. Pretty rocks. Not as bumpy as they’d looked…

Holt snorted. “Time to come back to reality.” An unyielding hand under her chin lifted her head. “Drink some of this for me, sweetie.” He put a straw between her lips.

She sucked some of the cool liquid, and the flavor of lemony-lime filled her mouth. She’d never tasted anything so wonderful. “Mmm.”

“Good girl. Hold still a second.” After wiping off her sweat-damp face, he gave her the straw again.

After a few more swallows, she felt the world steady. Kind of. She looked up at him.

He smiled. “Think you can hold the bottle?”

“Uh-huh. Thank you.”

“No, baby. Thank you.” Cupping her cheek, he kissed her gently and put the bottle in her hand. “Sit there and drink. I need to pack and clean up the area.”

“I can—”

“If you move, I’ll restrain you and put you back on the ground.”

She blinked at him, heard the implacable note, and muttered, “I think I’ll sit here and drink this stuff.”

“Good choice.”

*

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Somehow, she’d ended up in the main clubroom, lying on the couch with her back against Holt’s chest. His right arm and shoulder were under her head, and he’d turned so he could look down at her. She felt his chest rise and fall with his slow breathing. His left hand rested on her stomach.

He hadn’t let her get dressed.

Her clothes were stacked on top of his toy bag at the other end of the couch. She was wrapped in a blanket—and what had felt amazingly soft and comfy when it first went around her began to feel scratchy. Only, the fabric wasn’t the cause. Her skin had been…tenderized. She frowned. “How long were we in there?”

“Mmm, maybe close to two hours.”

She stiffened. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Whoa. She looked around the dark club. Only an occasional person strolled past. Almost everyone was gone.

“Since you’re tracking on all levels again, talk to me. How do you feel about what happened?” When she didn’t answer, he gave her a gentle squeeze, as she would a teddy bear. “How did being restrained make you feel?”

“I don’t…I don’t like to—”

He put her bottle of Gatorade in her hand and let her sip. “I know you’re not used to sharing your feelings, but this is part of BDSM, pet. Communication. Before, during if needed, and definitely after. Talk to me.”

“Boy, you’re stubborn,” she muttered and got another teddy-bear squeeze as if he could press the answers out of her.

She’d rather not think about how much she liked what he’d done to her. But he’d spent two hours just on her. She owed him the truth.

What had it felt like when he’d chained her arms over her head and her legs to the floor? “The restraints were scary and somehow sexy and—I know it’s weird—but having them on felt almost safe. Or not safe, exactly, but…it was kind of freeing, in a way. Maybe because I didn’t have to worry about doing anything…because I couldn’t.”

The kiss on top of her head made the space around her heart feel all warm.