Page 48 of Saint
“Well, fuck me!” Noah says on a low exhaled breath.
And I plan to.
“That, my boy, is my intention,” he growls in my ear before biting hard on my lobe, and my groan bounces off the bare brick walls.
I’m aware of Saint removing his clothes, but my gaze is on every detail of the room. It’s his own dungeon. Why haven’t we been in here before? It’s got everything a room at the club has, it even has a shower in the far corner. I immediately think of the scene we saw last, and my now-free cock throbs and fills with blood, pulsing its way to an erection.
“Come here.” Saint crooks his finger, and I obey. He pulls me against his body, my back to his chest, and he kisses my neck. “We haven’t been here before because I knew once I had you in here, we wouldn’t need to go to the club. But your need for humiliation, and your desire to show off would never be satisfied up here. Plus, we’re boyfriends when we’re together, not everything is a scene, even if it feels like one. You’re still learning so much about us, the lifestyle, and most of all yourself. But as you want to experience things that many even in the community find distasteful, we have up here to allow you to try it. Not tonight though. Tonight, I’m going to show you how spanking for pleasure feels.”
“Oh, fuck!” My mouth goes dry as he walks me over to a wood and leather piece of furniture. It’s like a small vaulting horse we had at school, but with extra steps on each side. It’s a beautiful object, and I know that if it’s Saint’s, it will be the highest quality. It’s a spanking bench, I’ve done my research on Google, finding websites and forums, learning the standard pieces of BDSM equipment. It’s not hard to imagine myself draped over it, my limbs strapped down, and my arse totally at the mercy of Saint and his hand, or hell, a paddle, a crop. I know I can’t be caned again, and I doubt Saint will want to do that to me either. Not after that night.
“I promise you are going to fly after this, boy.” Saint’s soft fingertips stroke over my cheek to my jaw and down my throat to my shoulder. “How do you feel?”
“Excited, cautious, wired. Everything, I feel everything,” I answer honestly. It’s obviously the right thing to say because Saint’s beautiful smile spreads broadly across his face, making my heart swell with love for him.
“Good boy.” He kisses me softly. “On you get.”
The leather is softer than it looks, and my knees sink into the padding hidden by the red leather. I lean over the bench, letting Saint attach the cuffs to my wrists and ankles. He kisses down each vertebra protruding from my spine and a peace settles in me. That it’s not just my body he’s in control of; it’s my heart and soul.
“All I want you to do, boy, is feel. Let every touch and stroke sink deep inside you. I want to hear you…every sound that comes out of your mouth is mine. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Sir,” I pant out, my body ready for all he can give me. I wasn’t ready for his hand to be stroking over mybum, caressing each cheek so tenderly. It makes my skin sing, bringing the nerve endings to the surface.
The first strike isn’t painful, nor the subsequent ones. It’s the consistency, the repetition as each smack lands on an already burning patch of skin that has me crying out. But it isn’t to stop or even slow down. No, the word being chanted from my lips is more. I want more. Time ceases to exist as I feel my body beginning to soar, and my cries turn into sobs as I reach a space I’ve only heard of.
I open my eyes. I’m wrapped in Saint’s arms, a blanket covering my shoulders and torso, Saint’s lips are on my forehead, and I feel them morph from a kiss to a smile. “Welcome back, baby,” he whispers gently. “How was that?”
I stare at him as I try to put into words how I feel. The burn on my arse still has my skin feeling alive, buzzing as adrenaline courses through my body. His arms around me have me centred. I feel loved and possessed. It’s all too much. Tears build, threatening to spill as I draw air deeply into my lungs. “It was intense, thrilling. I feel alive. You made me fly. I didn’t know that would happen. I don’t even remember you stopping.”
“Don’t you remember crying out as you orgasmed?” Saint asks with a trace of humour in his voice.
“I came? No, I don’t remember that.” I flush, heat burning my face this time. “I’m sorry, Sir. I…You…Was I allowed to come?” I don’t think I have it in me to be punished.
The faint humour now becomes a deep chuckle. “You don’t have to worry, boy. Watching you come as you soared into subspace was the greatest feeling in the world for me.”
“We didn’t fuck,” I tell him. “You wanted to fuck me over the bench.” It isn’t a question. I know he wouldn’t do that.
“No, we didn’t. And I still do. Not tonight. Tonight, seeing how late it is, we are going to shower. I’m going to clean you up, then rub some arnica lotion over your bum. It’s going to be sore for a few days, but my love, it is a total turn on for me watching you sit cautiously. I love knowing that the bruises were put there by me, that you gave yourself to me.” He sits up straighter in a comfortable leather chair I hadn’t even noticed when we walked in. “You’re incredible, Noah. I still find it hard to believe you came to find me, to ask for a job. That takes balls. You had no idea what I would say. I mean, where would you have gone if I’d said no?”
It's my turn to chuckle. “I wasn’t going to let you turn me down. I would’ve worked for free. I’ve been following your work for years. I didn’t have a backup plan because I know my work is good enough.”
“You’re a cocky bastard.” He kisses me, more thoroughly this time. His lips part mine, allowing his tongue to slip inside my mouth. I hum before letting my tongue join in. It doesn’t take me long to straddle his thighs and grind against him, my naked body against his leather trousers. I can feel his dick hardening as I rock over him. This kiss is delicious, and I never want it to end, but as his hands grasp my cheeks, I let out a huff of discomfort. It doesn’t take me long to absorb and relish the pain from his fingers and nails. My dick is so hard, my body craving to be impaled on his huge dick, I fumble down to his waistband and pop the button and wrangle the zip down. We’re still kissing when his hips tip up, giving me the space I need to pull his trousers down and over his bum. With a little shimmying, I can get them down to mid-thigh. His dick springs free, slapping against his firm stomach.
I break away from the kiss to look down at its glory. “Fuck, I love your cock.”
“Then maybe you should sit on it,” Saint growls at me, the pitch of his voice making me shiver. He leans over the side of the chair and grabs something. He shows me a bottle of lube. “Up on your knees, let me get you ready.”
“Not too much, I want the burn.”
“Such a pain slut.”
“You know it.” I kneel up, my arse out, giving him access to my hole.
I gasp as his first finger breaches my ring, the thick digit doesn’t mess around and thrusts inside me. Saint moans. “You’re so fucking tight.” He pumps his finger in and out, then it’s gone, and I mewl at the loss.
Then there’s two. I try to ride them, but Saint’s too firm grip on my sore arse has me stopping. “Patience, boy.”
I obey, but don’t have to wait long. I know he wants this as much as I do, that he likes the resistance as much as I love the burn. “Enough.”
