Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
She has taken refuge in her defiance, staring at me with those bright eyes that contain so much rebellion. I love how she manages to retain that facet of her personality. No matter what I do to her, she refuses to ever truly submit. It should irritate me. It does, when she is making a scene. But right now, in this private moment, I feel my cock rising. She is wildly attractive to me, to the extent that paying attention to punishment is difficult. What I want to do is mate her so thoroughly she forgets what misbehavior is.
“Are you going to stay in position if I put you in it? Or will you get up and run about and force me to tie you down?”
I see her face redden at the mention of being tied down. It seems I will be restraining my reluctant human mate this evening, and likely every evening if she persists in this reckless misbehavior.
I pick her up, and of course she begins to fight immediately. I wonder if we will ever have sex that does not begin with some kind of struggle. I feel her squirming against me, her hips gyrating and grinding with the excitement she cannot help even when she is quite furious.
She’s gorgeous.
I must be careful.
Even when my ardor rises to a level that feels almost uncontainable, and every instinct I have tells me to throw her down and fuck every hole I can find on her body, filling it with seed in the hopes of producing a whelpling with her eyes and my wings, I have to hold back.
She will never understand how very tender I am with her. Whenever I am rough with her, I am also restraining myself. A multitude of dark impulses swim beneath my skin. None of them are allowed to touch her. I keep them to myself, and I filter them through my adoration for her.
“You’re such a fucking asshole,” she curses from the bed where I have pinned her down in front of me, pulling those scraps of fabric away from her beautiful body. I can smell her arousal already. I think she resents the way her body betrays her. But mine betrays me too. We are both fighting our instincts so we can get what we need.
What she needs right now is the discipline that gives her permission to submit.
“On your knees, human.”
I use the tone I use with those who come before me for serious chastisement. This is not a request, it is a command — and even she cannot resist it. Raine drops to her knees, never taking her eyes off mine. Usually they drop their gaze now. They stare at the floor and force me to force them to look at me.
Raine isn’t submissive. She’s never going to be. I know that about her, and I love her just as much as I would if she were. But not being submissive doesn’t mean she can’t be obedient, and loyal, and perhaps, one day, even loving.
“I’d do it again,” she says.
“I know.”
There is a brief moment of connection between us, in which she must surely feel my acceptance of her wildness. Taming her will only ever be temporary, but it will happen from time to time — and it will happen now.
“Climb up on the bed and bend over it. It is time you were punished.”
“I’m never going to do that. I’m never going to help you beat me for something I didn’t do wrong in the first place.”
My lips compress with what could be, perhaps should be frustration. In truth, I am holding back a smirk. She is the worst little creature, and I need to be stern with her.
Of course, I have to pick her up and enjoy her squirming all over again as she wriggles against me, cursing and fighting all the way to the bed.
“You could make this easier on yourself,” I remind her. “You could apologize for your terrible behavior and offer to make amends.”
“HA!” She laughs without laughing.
I can’t let this have the air of play about it. I have to make it very clear that she is in trouble and being punished.
It is for that reason I choose to use a lash I know she finds painful. One that will leave welts and make her squeal in pain.
“When I tell you to behave yourself, you behave yourself. There is no alternative. I will not tolerate your misbehavior, Raine. I am your master. You belong to me. And when you disobey me, I will make you pay.”
Each of the last words of that sentence is punctuated by a harsh, whipping stroke of the lash that leaves a big welt. I know this will hurt for quite some time. She will feel it when she walks, and she will not sit comfortably for a long time.