Page 99 of Dare to Love Again

“Let’s hope so, for my sake. I have deviant plans for that mouth.”

And she looked forward to it; Finn’s imagination was limitless.

When his boots sounded with a dull thud on the straw-strewn floor, she got serious. A few moments passed and a swish and crack rent the air. Unable to help it, she jumped.

“Easy, lass. We’ll start slow.”

Another swish and the ten-inch leather tail at the end with its soft unwoven threads—which Finn called the cracker—brushed her butt. She knew this because he’d sat her down and let her hold and examine it weeks ago. He also taught her the proper names for every part, and even let her throw it, with his hand guiding hers. It made her feel more comfortable, but seeing the tightly braided strips of leather, and feeling the weight of it in her hand, had also freaked her out a little.

Finn didn’t push her. They visited the club, playing downstairs and up, twice a week, sometimes three, and were eagerly exploring each room and every flat and vertical surface in her house. But her growing fascination with the whip and her need to conquer her fear of it made her push him. He hadn’t set the scene, however, until she told him, and he agreed, she was ready.

More swishes and light whisks swept over her bottom. His aim was dead-on and had to be. With the suspension ropes, more binding her feet by her bottom and her hands crossed and tied at her lower back, there wasn’t much target left. But Finn found it, and repeated it on the other side, landing two more, one after the other. The sensation was more than a flogger and less than the sharpthwapfrom a crop.

Esme relaxed, feeling silly she fretted for nothing.

The whir of the hoist sounded again, and her body angled. Instead of horizontal, she was at a forty-five-degree angle to the floor, her head upright and well above her knees.

A crack preceded the three strokes he applied in descending order down her belly. She heard Finn move and felt the sting of leather on her inner thighs. Then he alternated blows in no pattern at all. Esme never knew where he’d strike next, whether soft or with a loud dramatic crack, and with an intense, though targeted sting.

Her brain shut down as her body hummed to life, no longer trying to predict where and when, only living in the moment and enjoying how.

Soon, she was flying, both in his ropes, as each blow made her swing and revolve, and in subspace as the pleasure chemicals soared through her body, making her drunk on her master’s control of every aspect of her and the scene.

Another swish, and heat bloomed in a line across her right breast. Her lips parted as the sting lingered long and melded with the next stroke that landed directly on her nipple. She cried out as the tip drew taut in reaction and a flood of wetness surged to her pussy.

“Use your safeword if you need to, lass,” Finn reminded her.

She didn’t need to, nor did she want to. Her body was alive with sensation and enough erotic pain to make her clit pulse with pleasure and her insides clench with a desire to be filled.

“Esme,” Finn called. “Are you with me?”

“Yes,” she choked out. “Please...”

“Please what,mo chuisle? Ask for what you want.”

“More...” she groaned.

He didn’t hesitate, moving around the room and repeating the hot licks of leather and fire on her left breast.

Esme jerked reflexively, arching her back as much as the binding and suspension would allow, offering her breasts for more of his whip. He gave it to her, but not where she wanted or expected. It landed, repeatedly. Sometimes soft; other times with more intensity, tickling, and biting, burning, and even soothing until the endorphins released and surged through her body. Three feet off the ground as she was, her soaring went to a whole other level.

It was sublime.

Vaguely, she heard a thump, another whir, then she tasted salt on her lips.

“Open,” he commanded for a second time in an hour.

Instead of a synthetic gag, warm, male flesh filled her mouth as his cock slid inside. Instinctively, her lips closed around him and she sucked, her tongue swirling along his smooth satiny skin. She rejoiced in the husky groans coming from above her and relaxed her jaw, taking more of his considerable length, drawing hard, hoping to give him as much pleasure as he’d given her.

Suddenly, he pulled out.

Esme’s cries of disappointment filled the air.

But he didn’t leave her for long. Spinning her in a half circle, he fit his hips between her bound thighs and drove into her. Being filled with Finn’s generous cock while still plugged was nearly too much and sent jolts of sensation through her body from her head hanging limply toward the floor, to her breasts dangling and swaying with each hard thrust, the peaks tightening with more pain than his black snack had come close to providing, and to her toes which curled up at the intense pleasure.

Attuned to her needs, Finn’s hands came around and cupped her breasts, massaging gently and then pinching the aching tips. She sobbed at all the sensations bombarding her at once, and he mercifully released her, but he was far from done. Using the ropes to guide her body, he pulled her to him as his cock drove inside.

Again and again, he pumped into her, setting up a hard, fast rhythm, nudging the plug at certain angles, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. His hand came around in front, slipped between her spread thighs, and his thumb and forefinger found her clit, rolling and pinching it firmly. This final added bit of sensual torment sent her hurtling toward climax.

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