Page 30 of Fearless
Her panties might as well not have been there.
God, it had been so long since a man had last done this to her. The long suckling pulls of his mouth and tongue drew her grinding down into the languid motion of his love-making. He tugged, he hummed, he rolled and pressed and bit until she was lost in it. She’d have gripped his head if only she could have got her hands free. She tried anyway, but the minute her stretching fingers grazed the short sandy hairs on the side of his head, he stopped, pulled back, and suddenly the bite of the last alligator clamp replaced his hungry mouth.
“Bad girl,” he growled, licking the taste of her from his lips. Which was impossible. Her underwear had been a barrier between them. He couldn’t possibly be tasting her the way the stormy blue of his eyes suggested.
“Mm!” Kitty bent almost double, her body’s ache for orgasm no longer a tickle, but a roar. Her nipples were in agony. Her clit, unaccustomed to the harshness of the clamp, threatened quickly to follow, but neither pain was enough to banish her need. It amplified it. She wanted more. More twists and pinches. More suckling pulls of his mouth. More bites of more clamps in whatever places he saw fit to affix them. And above and beyond all of that, she wanted him. The heat and the hardness of him touching her, skin to bare, burning skin.
He stood up, so close to her that his body dragged her in places. His hands caught her hips, his chest bumped the clamps on her breasts and set her near to sobbing. Or maybe that was her fault. The inadvertent touch made her jerk back, pulling the chain until the unbearable pain lancing through her nipples stopped everything. And still her clit pulsed and her panties flooded. Wanton, pulsating flows of lust that drenched her everywhere his mouth had been.
His was the smile of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. Catching the base of her ponytail, he turned her around and, with a not-so-gentle shove, bent her over the table. Her bound hands did not allow her to arrest her fall. She landed on her belly, her breasts and pussy both crying and throbbing even louder, overriding the discomfort, feeding off of the clatter of each clamp striking the table. Why had she kept her damned underwear on?
Her body knew this position and reacted with instant obedience, her legs spreading wide, her hips arching back, offering herself—pussy, ass, what he wanted, however he wanted it, if only she didn’t have the damned underwear in the way.
She would not have cared if he’d taken it down right then. More than anything, she ached for the brush of his fingers, slipping into the elastic waistband before baring her. The clip on her clit would have prevented it dropping too far. It was hooked to her, with little metal teeth she could feel in excruciating detail.
As it turned out, he didn’t need to remove it and it wasn’t the elastic of her waistband that he hooked his fingers into. It was the elastic to either side of her crotch, right before he dragged them to one side, baring her ass cheeks, the glistening folds of her puss, and the dusky rim of her anus.
“Mm!” Kitty locked her lips around the chain, afraid she might accidentally let go. If she did, all this would stop. He’d said there would be consequences that she wouldn’t like, and she believed him. And, oh, how she did not want this to stop. Not yet. Not even when she saw him reach for a bottle of clear lubricating gel.
She snapped her eyes shut, because seeing made her remember and she didn’t want any part of Ethen invading what was happening now. She wanted to feel, for once—just once—without also being afraid. A dollop of cold dropped into the crack between her ass cheeks, sliding down toward her anus before a swipe of his fingers helped it along.
“You know how to stop this,” he said, applying that lubrication all around her rim. “There will be no punishment or consequences if you do.” One finger invaded, sinking into her with delicious slowness. “I won’t be angry, and if you don’t want to stop everything, then we’ll leave out the parts that make you uncomfortable.”
Kitty spread her legs wider, pushing back her hips and impaling herself by centimeters on his finger.
“There’s a good girl,” was his chuckling reply. One finger became two, and then simple penetration became thrusts. There was no pain. Not even a little. He didn’t call her ugly names or take her dry so it would hurt as much as he could make it. He made it feel good, the way she remembered it feeling way back in the beginning when she first set foot in Black Light and a dom there offered to teach her all the things that up until that moment she’d only dreamed of. She could barely remember his face and his name not at all. When she tried, Ethen’s came to mind.
Burying her face into the table, Kitty banished him. She focused on the steady in and out of Noah’s fingers in her ass, and now his thumb, slipping down between the slick folds of her pussy to find entrance there too. He pumped her both ways, but only for a moment more. Then he patted her on the bottom and took his hand away. She mewed her disappointment, but his touch had already returned. Not his finger now, the blunted nose of the metal plug circled the rim of her ass, giving her ample time to guess what was coming next.
Another slow invasion, colder than his fingers with only a pinch of discomfort as the widest section pushed through her involuntary clench. Then it was in, seated deep and cool and weighted. She could really feel it—it had been so, so long.
Gripping the jeweled base, Noah twisted the plug inside her. He rocked it, pumped it, tangled his hand in her ponytail and pulled her head so far back that the chain between her mouth and nipples tightened, making the clamps bite harder.
“This is not a punishment,” Noah said, turning her mew of half-hearted protest into a startled, lusty grunt when he yanked the plug out of her, only to slam it back home again.
Kitty nearly came up off the table, but his grip on her hair, the size and weight of him behind her, and the slow, steady thrusts as he fucked her from behind, it all worked together to hold her pinned.
Eyes no longer closed, she stared at the wall straight ahead, seeing nothing, but feeling everything. From the pinch and pull as she was taken with her damn underwear still mostly on, to her near tear-inducing disappointment that it should be this metal thing inside of her instead of his rock-hard cock piston ramming in and out as he reinforced, “Bad submissives don’t get treated like this, only good girls. You’re a good girl, Kitty. You’ve been a good girl and you’re giving me a lot of pleasure. So I’m going to return that favor.”
One last deep pump, and the plug settled all the way into her singing body. She missed him the minute he let her go. Conversely, she didn’t miss him quite so much a half second later when she felt the flat head of the leather paddle caress a warning circle across her round ass. He took his time arranging her underwear, tucking the sides into the crack of her buttocks, pulling it up floss tight, until the fabric was cutting up through the folds of her needy pussy and all three clamps felt as if they were biting right through her.
“It’s been a while for me,” Noah said, and she could hear the smile in his voice even though his grip in her hair meant she could not twist back far enough to see it. “Come to think of it, I haven’t had the use of a woman’s body since Black Light. So, thank you for your submission, love. I’m really going to enjoy this.”
If he gave her a warmup first, it didn’t feel like it. From first smack to last, every swat of his paddle bit straight through her flesh and into her rapidly unraveling soul. The sting was unbearable and yet she welcomed it. It grew teeth more jagged than the clamps, and yet she refused to cry out. She bit the chain until it hurt, but she would not let go. Not because she did not want to cut his enjoyment short, but because she needed this too.
She needed the sting, the smart, the increasingly excruciating hurt that only grew more vindictive the faster and harder he spanked her. Because he wasn’t letting up; he wasn’t stopping. He didn’t pause to rub and he didn’t spread out his swats to find other places to bite. He focused all of that paddle’s attentions on the absolute swells of her bottom cheeks, above her thighs, in the only two places guaranteed to make sitting impossible later on. And she needed it to be like this.
Because she was an idiot.
Because she’d let herself live with a monster who’d used her, degraded her, stole everything she’d ever valued—her house, her car, all the money she made and even her job—away from her. Worse than that, she’d let him steal her dignity and her self-respect, leaving her this… this shell of a person she barely recognized and didn’t at all like. And for what? Because by the time she recognized him for the monster he was, his abuse had become familiar? Because it had become excusable?
Exactly when she broke down, Kitty didn’t know. But by the time he finally lay the paddle aside to rest the heat of his naked hand on her fiery ass, not rubbing to soothe, but squeezing each cheek to amplify the hurt, she was bawling too hard to control it.
“There’s a good girl.” He paused between squeezes to swat her again, this time measuring out pain with the flat of his bare hand. “Let it all out, love. Time to let that poison go.”
She cried when he put her panties back to right, and again when he took off the alligator clips. She cried even harder as the blood came rushing back into all those tender places, but not because it hurt—although it did, and dreadfully. She cried because it had been so long since anyone had cared enough to give her this, and because this—this thing between her and Noah, well… it wasn’t real. Who knew how long it would be before she’d have it again.
She had to hold onto this feeling—the fire and the hurt, the sadness and relief—to everything, including the strength she found in Noah’s arms as he pulled her up off the table and into his embrace. When her knees wouldn’t hold her, he sat, providing her with the comfort of his lap, holding her for what felt like hours.
