Page 140 of Architecti
“That’s right.Now tell Daddy where your toys are.”
My grin deepens, knowing that even though I shouldn’t use sex as a distraction, thisiswhat we both need tonight.
“Top drawer,” I cock my head towards the bedroom.
“Don’t move.That pussy is mine.I want it on display for me when I return.”
She takes a few minutes, but when she strides back in, she’s topless, her breasts round and firm.I am desperate to put my mouth around them and suck one of her pink nipples between my teeth.The thought makes my mouth water with the aching need to taste her.
I drop my gaze lower.She still wears her leather trousers, but now a strap-on is secured in place with a vibe ring for my clit.In her hand, she carries a flogger, a paddle, and knot of rope.
She steps between my legs and places the toys on the table then grips my chin hard, forcing me to look at her.Her posture and movements still hold that simmering heat, the cloying mix of lust and the burn of anger beneath it.It drives me wild, like I hope tonight is going to be.
“Safe word,” she says.
“Satan.”
“You are mine, Lucy, do you understand?”
I hesitate too long.
Her hand rears back and slaps my pussy.I squeal and shunt backwards up the table.She holds my chin tighter, making the sting instantly morph into something silky.The moan that spills from my lips is raw.It affects her.Midnight’s lips part, her eyes flash.
Her fingers clasp my jaw hard enough I’m certain they’re going to leave bruises.It’s wrong; I should tell her to ease up.
But I like it.
Iwantthe marks.I want more of them.Want her to mark my body hard enough that even when this is over and we part ways, I’ll always carry a piece of her.
Which is why I am very careful what I say next, knowing the reaction it will elicit.
“Mybodyis yours, Daddy.”
Her nostrils flare, frustration written in her expression.She slaps my pussy again, and I half scream, half moan as sharp tingles spread from my clit deep into my core.
She flips me over so my chest is pressed to the table, my arse in the air for her.Then she loops the rope around one wrist, chucks it over the table and ties my other wrist.She throws the rope under the table and picks it up, the other side knotting me in place, keeping me pinned to the table.
“Whores give their bodies.Is that what you are?”she snarls over my back.
She doesn’t stop to ask me to move, just kicks my ankles out, displaying both my holes and my soaking pussy.My toes struggle to touch the floor.I’m barely able to keep myself in place.It makes my heart race, my breath short and a bolt of pleasure rush between my thighs.
The flogger comes down hard on my cheeks.It’s the lightest sting but still makes me tremble.
I crane my head as she swishes her wrist this way and that, making sounds only someone practiced with one can.The kind of whistle and crack of leather that’s both threatening and sexy simultaneously.I squeal in anticipation.
Whip.Whip.
She cracks the flogger on each side.I moan, my legs wriggling on the table.I can’t see behind me and not knowing what’s coming makes my heart rate spike.A warm, wet tongue swipes from my clit all the way to my arse.
“Oh gods,” I cry out.
A clatter startles me.Through the crack in the table, I spot the flogger, and I brace instantly.The paddle comes down on my now-sensitive cheeks.
Once.Twice.Three times.
I scream as the sting burns viciously hot.My hard nipples rub against the table.There are too many sensations.
Her tongue assaults my clit with lavish licks and laps, the sensitive bundle of nerves already engorged.
