Page 62 of Deal with the Devil
And no matter how good his touch feels, it’s wrong. He’s sick and twisted and it doesn’t matter if he knows how to fondle me just the way I like.
“Such a beautiful ass,” he says, squeezing the supple flesh. “It’s a shame to mark it.”
“Diavolo!” I cry out in protest.
But he’s no longer listening—the first strike lands across my ass, the sting sharp vibrating straight through me.
I bite back a whimper, determined not to give him the satisfaction.
It doesn’t matter to him either way; the leather kisses my skin in brutal fashion only for him to bring it back down seconds later.
He’s folded the belt in half, ensuring the brutal leather is what makes contact each and every time.
It comes down for a second lash. Instant heat erupts across my ass cheeks, fiery pain engulfing me whole. I jerk in place, still trying to free myself, ignoring how the hot pain battles with the even hotter fire inside me.
I hold out as long as I can. Strikes three and four arrive with equal precision. The leather collides with my soft, delicate skin and leaves it prickling with heat. His hand strokes the reddened, swollen area like he’s attempting to soothe me.
Some twisted contradiction where he’s both punisher and soother.
By the fifth swat of the belt, I’m no longer able to hold back the whimpers. Cries escape my throat, my breaths coming in between.
My ass stings, already sore. Then his massaging hands return to blur the lines that have already become so hazy I can’t even fight back anymore.
His firm, knowing touch feels like heaven after hell. It sends quakes of confusing pleasure through me as he gropes my ass and then his fingers slip to my panties. He rubs at the thin material covering my pussy, stimulating me in the worst ways.
“Are you going to obey me, Portia?" he asks, his voice huskier and more strained than I’ve ever heard it.
“I hate you!” I gasp.
But even as the words leave my lips, I'm horrified to realize they feel less true than they did minutes ago. My body is betraying me, responding to his dominance in ways that make my cheeks burn with shame.
The belt returns in swift and vicious fashion, slamming into my bare ass and eliciting a sharp cry from me.
The moment feels endless as he demands my obedience and I cling to the last shred of stubbornness I have left. I searchfor the small blip of pleasure from his fingers on my pussy and concentrate on that and only that.
The leather strikes and I writhe in his lap. My pussy throbs, nerve endings firing off to drown out the stinging pain.
He knows this as he pauses every few lashes, his fingers toying with me. He rubs me in a way that creates friction between his fingers and my panties.
…that leave me soaked in record time.
“Tell me how you want me to touch you, dolcezza,” he says throatily. “Do you want the pleasure or do you want the pain? Will you be my good girl or do you want to keep being bad?”
I keen in answer, my head reeling.
I can’t think straight like this, bent over his lap with his fingers on my pussy and my ass on fire.
The threat of the belt looms.
“Well?” he presses, sliding my panties to the side. He touches my slick lips so gently, so teasingly that my whole body shudders. “Do you want to be good or bad? Tell me now.”
“I’ll… I’ll be good!” I find myself answering.
The voice almost doesn’t even sound like my own. It’s as if I’m suddenly under a spell, my pussy throbbing.
It’s been weeks since I’ve felt Rafael’s touch and now a dark need I didn’t know I had has been awakened.
…but this isn’t Rafael! This is Il Diavolo!
