Page 24 of Red Flagged
Her breath hitched, lips parting just slightly as I used the crop to trace along her jaw. She bit her bottom lip, hard enough to whiten under the pressure, then released it with a shaky exhale. “Dis-moi,” she murmured. “Tell me how to please you.”
Her thighs shifted slightly, that subtle squirm of anticipation and nerves that drove me absolutely feral. She wanted instruction; craved it and let it turn her on. Not because she didn’t know what I liked—no, she knew exactly how to unravel me—but because this was her surrender. Not simply offering herself, butbeggingfor direction.
Aurélie clasped her hands behind her back, but kept her eyes locked on mine, glassy and desperate.
“Tell me what to do, mon amour. Je veux être parfait pour toi.”
I want to be perfect for you.
“The shirt,” I quipped, tapping her shoulder with the crop. “Take it off.”
She peeled it over her head with slow, practiced grace until she kneeled in nothing but those sinful red lace panties. Her breasts looked full and flawless. Sweat beaded on her temples and collarbone, hair clinging to it. She was a goddamn walking wet dream.
“Good girl,” I praised, circling her slowly, like a predator stalking prey. “You’re a bratty little vixen to everyone else.” I let the tip of the crop drag down her spine, grinning as she shivered. “But so good for me. Always so eager to be ruined.”
When I reached her back, I paused. My gaze landed on the ink just above the curve of her ass, lined up perfectly with the hem of her panties. With her hair falling around her shoulders and down her back, she looked like sin incarnate.
fait au paradis
Made in Heaven.
“So fucking slutty for me, baby, sitting here like this,” I growled. “Made in Heaven. Corrupted by me.”
I wrapped my hand in that wild golden mane, tugging gently until she gasped and rose to her feet. Her spine bowed under the pressure of my grip, breasts heaving, body arching like sheneededto be handled. I guided her toward the bed with a hand gripping the back of her neck.
“On,” I ordered, and she climbed up obediently, settling down on her heels so my chest was flush with her back. “Down.” One hard press between her shoulder blades had her folding in half, face buried in the mattress. Her back arched, ass high and on display like she was offering herself up as a sacrifice.
Aurélie whimpered when I leaned over her, letting my breath ghost along her spine, then whispered, “Hands.” She offered them behind her, wrists crossed like the most tempting sacrifice.
I looked down at her like this, open and ready for me, those red panties a violent slash against all that perfect golden skin. My cock throbbed at the sight.
She was soaked,drippingthrough the lace down her thighs. I hooked my fingers under the waistband, tugging the fabric back until it stretched taut against her swollen clit, dragging slowly just to make her squirm. She gasped, thighs trembling, and I felt the heat and arousal soaking the crotch of her panties before I finally ripped them down, the ruined lace snapping at her thighs as it came away in my fist.
My voice broke as I growled, “So wet for me, you fucking drenched them.”
I tugged my leather belt free from my jeans in one smooth pull, the hiss of it sliding through the loop cutting through the silence like a threat. From this angle, I had the perfect view—her sweet little cunt on full display, clenching like it missed me and her ass begging me to mark it.
Setting the crop down on the bed, I bound her wrists behind her back, slow and deliberate, cinching it tight so she could feel it—feel me—with every movement. Then I stepped back and gave the belt a sharp tug, just enough to jolt her upright. She gasped and collapsed backward into me, her body weight slamming into my chest like it belonged there.
I caught her without hesitation, arms locking around her middle. She was breathless, pliant, head tipping to the side so her temple rested against my throat.
"Fuck," I whispered, lips brushing her hair. "Auri."
She whimpered. Not a word, just a sound, raw and soft and cracked open with need. Her hips writhed slowly, grinding back against me like she couldn’tnotmove, like she needed friction to keep breathing. I groaned, flexing my hips forward into her ass.
“Only let me fall if you’re the one catching me, baby,” she pleaded.
My whole bodyseized. “Always.”
I lifted her easily, hands gripping her waist, and placed her exactly where I wanted her—kneeling on the floor between my legs like a blessing disguised as a threat. Then I reached back for the crop, running the tip under her chin until she looked up at me.
I could’ve said anything to her, but she needed to betamed, bent to the edge of madness and held there until she forgot who she was without me. She deserved to be seen, known, and revered by someone who wouldn’t flinch in the face of adversity.
So yes, I could’ve said anything, but it couldn’t be justkneelorsubmit.
It needed to screamshow me you’re mine.
“Present yourself,” I ordered.
