Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
“I ask for what I want. For what I need.”
He finished with her right stocking and started on the left. “Unusual.”
“My thigh highs, or that I ask for what I need?”
He finished with the second stocking and she lifted her foot so he could remove it.
When he stayed silent, she rose on her toes and pirouetted in place so she could see him. He was crouched, elbows on his knees, looking up at her.
The reversal of position might have held connotations of a reversal of roles, but there was no doubt who the Dom was. Alexander looked at her with the predatory gaze of a hunting bird, and the calm arrogance of a billionaire.
“You ask for what you need?” He raised one brow.
“Is that so unusual?”
“Some people. Many people…” Alexander picked up the flogger and stood. “…don’t know what they want.”
Alena started to turn back around, but he stopped her by reaching out and cupping her breast. He slid his thumb across her nipple, then palmed her breast, lifting it slightly.
With his other hand he raised the flogger, then smacked it down on the breast he held up.
Alena cried out, rising up on her toes as pain warmed her breast. One strand of the flogger had struck her nipple, and sensation zinged through her.
He bent bringing his face within inches of her abused breast. She couldn’t stop herself from arching her back, thrusting her nipple towards his mouth in a silent plea.
“Dangerous,” he all but growled. “I might bite, not suck.”
“You already bit me.”
“And it hurt?”
“Yes.” She strained forward. “Bite me, please, Sir.”
“Pain is what you want?”
She needed to say “no.” She should temper the moment, try and keep this light so she didn’t sink too deep into her own submission.
But he was touching her breast, her ass was smarting from the flogging, and her whole body felt warm and ripe, ready for him to use and abuse.
“I want it. I’m ready for it to hurt.” She licked her suddenly dry lips, and glanced at his face.
She met his gaze for just a moment, then submissively lowered her eyes. He rewarded her with a swipe of his thumb over her nipple.
He released the first breast only to cup the other. “What else do you want?”
Before she could speak, the flogger slapped down. With his hand under her tit, the flesh was forced to absorb the full impact of the strike.
She breathed through the sweet pain, nearly whimpering when he released her breast and stepped back.
With uneven breaths, she watched as his gaze roamed over her front, as if considering where to strike next.
He studied her the way a master sculptor examined a block of marble.
He raised his arm.
The flogger struck, in rapid succession, each thigh, then the upper outside edge of her thigh—her hip area, but not high enough to land on the part of the hip that was out of bounds thanks to the kidneys and other soft organs not protected by the ribcage. Back to thighs then breasts, hip area again, and breasts once more.
By the time he was done, Alena was gasping and no longer able to keep still. Between blows she would rise up on the balls of her feet, arch her back, twist side to side, or some combination of all three. She wasn’t trying to get away. The opposite.
She needed more.
Her whole body was warm and throbbing. The moments of waiting between the strikes were torture.
“Tell me what you need,” he commanded.
“Again. Don’t pause. Please, Sir. More.”
“More pain?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “If that’s what you want.” She blinked to focus her eyes on his face.
He looked grim, his jaw muscles clenched. Anger? No. His brow wasn’t furrowed, and his eyes were…hungry. Control. He was near the edge of his own control, clenching his teeth as he fought to hold himself in check.
She didn’t want him reserved. She wanted him wild, and it had nothing to do with why she was here. It had stopped being about the job, about the next move in the game, when he flogged her breast.
Bringing a Dom to the edge of their control stoked her own perverse desires.
He started up again, this time adding in blows to the outsides of her thighs, and striking her breasts less frequently.
“Hurt me, please,” she begged during a pause. “Make me feel it. I don’t want to think for a little while.”
His expression shifted to surprise for just a moment. Then it closed down again even as her rational internal voice was screaming at her to back up a proverbial step.
At least she hadn’t said all of what she’d been thinking. I don’t want to think about why I’m really here.
He raised the flogger and started to flick it through the air, moving only his wrist. Soon he had a good rhythm, the flogger making an infinity pattern.