Page 68 of His to Possess
He’s right. The sting is replaced by a rush of warmth, the gentlest of throbs. I purr into the cushion under my cheek on the cross. “It feels good.”
He makes a deep rumbling noise of approval, then strikes me again, on my ass this time. He uses more force, the sting sharper, but again he waits and lets me experience the way the sensation changes over time.
“A crop isn’t always intense,” he explains, landing a gentle smack right at the crease of my ass. “I’ll often use this as a warm-up. Or I’ll use it on those areas of the body that aren’t as well protected as your ass and thighs.” As if to demonstrate, he lands an equally gentle smack to the side of my breast. Then he slides the leather down my spine, across my ass, all the way to—
“Shit,” I squeak out as the crop comes into contact with my very wet center.
“Language, love. Be my good girl.” He smacks me there again, a little harder, right on my clit this time, and I can’t help but cry out. I manage not to swear, though, and he rewards me with a second strike to my clit.
“I wonder if I could make you come like this,” he murmurs, and a shudder runs through me. I don’t know if that sounds terrifying or amazing, but I’m already getting overwhelmed by the overload of sensation.
But he abandons my pussy, at least for now. He brings another smack to the top of my ass, this one harder than the others. “Of course, the crop can still be a formidable tool in the right hands. I can make it as gentle or as intense as I want.” He smacks me again, and I cry out. That onehurt. “I think we’ll stick with intense for now.”
I wonder if he’s testing me, if he’s trying to determine just how far I’m willing to go. I realize that he’ll have to push it a lot farther if he’s expecting me to give in. The way he’s using the crop now definitely hurts, way worse than his palm, but I don’t care. In fact…
“Harder, sir.”
He pauses. “You want it harder?”
I nod against the cushion. This is probably crazy. It’s my first time. He’s already shown me way more than I ever could have imagined. But somehow, it’s not enough. I don’t really understand this desire, but I know I want more.
“Yes, please, sir.”
I hear the crop hit the wooden floor, then he’s standing next to me, tugging on my hair to make me look at him. He studies my face and I can see that his eyes are dilated, hot sparks of desire flashing in their blue depths.
“You want more pain? You want it more intense?”
“I do,” I whisper, even as I wonder if I’m insane. I shouldn’t want more, should I? This is all so new to me. Shouldn’t I just be satisfied with what we’ve done so far? But now that the crop is no longer kissing my skin, the desire for something more grows even more intense. I don’t question it—I just beg.
“Make it hurt more, sir,” I say, holding his gaze even as my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I can’t believe I’m being this forward. At the same time, nothing has ever felt more natural.
He shakes his head, looking awed. “You’re sure?’ he demands. “You’re not just saying this to please me?”
I stare into his blue eyes. “I’m sure. I want it.” I swallow. “AndI want to please you. I want you to feel as good as I do right now.”
“Fuck,” he mutters, closing his eyes. Then he’s kissing me again, stealing the very breath from my lungs. “You’re fucking perfect, Lilah.”
I whimper when he stops kissing me but he gives me a gentle smack with his palm on my ass, so I try to concentrate on the heat that radiates from that spot as he steps away. He’s back only a moment later, holding something I can’t see.
“What do you think I have in my hand?” he asks, voice more controlled now. He sounds so dominating, so completely alpha. It makes my knees feel weak. “What kind of implement do you think I’m going to use on you next?”
The simulated scene we saw at Club Wyld runs through my mind, and I have to swallow hard to get past the rush of fear?
“A whip?”
He chuckles softly. “No, love. A whip is quite intense. Though a good Dom can make any implement intense or gentle.” He brushes his lips along the base of my neck. “I could make my whip feel as sweet as a kiss across your skin. Would you like that?”
I shiver into his touch. “Yes.”
“Mmm,” he says, kissing my neck again. “Someday.”
The idea that I might have a someday with Philip is so exciting I nearly miss his next words. “But no whips tonight,” he continues. “Tonight I want to use my favorite tool. Can you guess what it is? Listen.”
I strain to hear over my pounding heart and there it is—a metallic jingle. “A belt?” I gasp out.
“A belt.” The leather snaps in his hands, the sound shockingly loud in the still room. “It will leave such lovely marks on this gorgeous ass.”
“Oh my god.”
