Page 31 of One Cut Deeper

“Ranay.” His voice is so ragged that I barely recognize it. “Don’t. Don’t let me…”

Don’t let me hurt you too much?

It sounds too close to making him beg for me to do something, and no good slave would ever make the Master beg. Never. The Master’s will and need always supersede the slave’s. I can’t be his slave if I can’t give him what he wants.

“Red,” I finally say, barely more than a whisper.

He rears back, his weight leaving me entirely. My sweaty skin instantly chills.

I force more volume into my voice despite the rawness in my throat, desperation tearing me apart. “Red, please! Red!”

With a jerk, one leg is freed, then the other. He shoves my knees back high and tight to my body and surges into me without hesitation. Too big, too hard, but I love it. I need it. He fights through the tightness of my body until he’s buried deep. With a grunt of satisfaction, he lowers his chest to mine, covering me head to toe with his body, his hands wrapped around my wrists.

For a moment, he lies there on top of me, as if he needs the connection too. One body. One heart. One mind. But then he starts to pull out of me, making me squirm and clutch at him with my thighs in an attempt to keep him.

He laughs wickedly. “You might have given me your safeword, but I’m still the Master, am I not?”

I bite my lip as inch after glorious inch slides out of me, but I don’t voice any argument. Especially when he unbuckles my hands. I immediately reach toward his chest, determined to tug on that delightful ring he so thoughtfully provided for my entertainment.

Capturing both of my hands in one of his, he leans back and somehow manages to flip me over beneath him, as quickly and easily as he took me to the floor in the kitchen.

“That’s better.” He fists his hand in my hair and pulls me back, while giving my ass a sharp enough slap that I scramble to my hands and knees. Keeping my neck arched, he slides into me, bearing down on my back so I have to work to keep us both up off the mattress. “I said rough and mean, didn’t I?”

“And violent,” I remind him with a gasp. “Is this violent?”

He chuckles against my ear. “Not yet.”

This position always makes sex more intense for me. I feel it more, like it makes my clit stand out better, adding to the whole stimulation. And damn him for somehow sensing it, because he keeps his pace slow and deep, deliberately tugging my hair and shifting me around until I gasp each time he thrusts into me.

But that isn’t enough for him. Now that he found that sweet spot, he uses his forearm to drive my shoulders down to the mattress. He grips my nape with his hand, pinning my neck, completely immobilizing me. Ass high, head trapped, it’s exactly how he used my mouth this morning.

He pushes deep, so deep I try to get away. I can’t help it. He’s just too damned big, especially in this position. The pressure inside me makes me groan and instinctively recoil. I can’t go anywhere, though. Not with his weight on my back. I flail with my hands, suddenly realizing that at some point he freed them, but I can’t get an effective blow, not behind me.

I settle on digging my nails into his thighs.

In response, he drops his weight fully on me. Forcing him deeper. His thrusts are no longer pleasure but pain, striking that internal barrier inside me so hard I whimper.

“There it is.”

He pulls back and thrusts again, so hard, so deep, like he’s trying to push my ass up over my head and flip me in a somersault. Each blow thuds inside me, reverberating through my body to explode in my skull. I came so many times already I don’t think it’s physically possible to do it again. Without dying. Surely this is going to kill me.

A sweet haze weighs me down, filling me up, rolling and ebbing like the sea with each thrust. I’ve never been so full, so completely sated. He fills every corner of my mind and heart and soul.

Even if I never climax again the rest of my life, I will smile every time I think about this night. The night I gave myself to him.

Forever.

His thrusts become uneven, his breath rasping in and out of his lungs. Now I have his sweat, his breath, his body and finally his pleasure as he lets out a roar of ultimate possession.

No, there it is. Smiling, I let go and slide into darkness. There’s the sound he makes when he comes.

11

He bathes me like I’m completely helpless, holding my head up out of the water, lifting me out and cradling me on his lap while he dries me. And I let him. I need the care, because if left to my own will, I would’ve simply passed out in his bed until New Year’s Day. I certainly want to sleep that long, and it’s probably going to take days before the bruises fade.

The bites look awful, swollen and angry and dark.

I’ve never seen anything more wondrous on my little subbie body in my entire life. I’d love to snap a few pictures and share them with my online friends. They’d get it. In fact, they’d probably die with jealous admiration.

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