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)
Her back and arm muscles were tight and burning, nearly every inch of skin from knees to shoulders throbbing.
Crack, crack.
Two more, in quick succession. The sensation was huge and hot and she wasn’t sure if it was pain or pleasure anymore, because when he struck her, her breasts bounced, pussy clenched, and even as she wanted to run from the pain she was already fighting the urge to demand more. To demand he be faster, not make her wait even one second to feel it again.
Hands slid under her torso, helping her to straighten.
Alena blinked, momentarily confused as she saw the people gathered around them. They’d attracted an audience.
Then Alexander’s lips brushed her ear. “You’re very beautiful. Well done.”
Several moments later the cuffs were gone and her cloak was settled on her shoulders. Alena reached up to pull it closed, more out of fear of it sliding off than modesty, but Alexander caught her hand.
“No. Let them see.”
Well-abused breasts and thighs on display, ass aching, Alena followed her Dom out of the dungeon.
* * *
When her ass made contact with the firm floor pillow, Alena moaned.
“Remove the cloak and roll onto your stomach.”
The words were not exactly clinical, but they were far more dispassionate than his expression.
His face was stark, a muscle in his jaw flexing as his attention shifted from her face to her body.
He wanted her, and the struggle to master that arousal was playing out on his face.
She shrugged, the cloak falling away.
“On your stomach.”
She paused, caught in a moment of indecision. The scene was over; this was aftercare, which meant the power exchange should start to shift back, to equalize. In practice, he was still giving orders, and her first instinct was to obey.
Time to take back some of her power.
“Alexander?”
A rather plaintive sounding question wasn’t the strong statement she’d hoped for, but she’d used his name.
His gaze returned to her face, and his expression softened, became tender. He crouched and reached out to touch her, but paused, fingers only a centimeter from her cheek.
“May I?”
Alena nodded. His tenderness made her feel soft and vulnerable. When his fingers brushed her cheek she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. It was, at least for her, a poignant moment completely at odds with the way her well-beaten ass and breasts throbbed.
This man was dangerous, and not for the reasons she’d thought coming into the job.
Alexander was dangerous because his perversions fit nicely with her own taboo desires, she was ferociously attracted to him, and above all he was a very good Dom.
She needed to get through aftercare, make sure that tomorrow night he’d partner with her again, then take a frigid shower and reassess.
Alexander pinched her chin with thumb and the side of his forefinger, bringing her back to the moment. She blinked her eyes open, focusing on his face.
She should lean in and kiss him.
She should not kiss him. That was a very bad idea.
She loved bad ideas.
“Lay back. Face up to start, if you prefer.”
She was glad he was no longer restricting himself to single syllable words. Ironically, now she was the one who felt mute.
Alena stretched out across three pillows, the cloak under her like a blanket. When she moved her legs, her attention shifted to her sex. She was so wet that her labia were sliding against one another.
Lace wouldn’t show dampness the way satin or cotton did, meaning he didn’t have to know exactly how wet he’d made her.
Alexander dropped onto one knee and leaned in, examining her breasts. He touched her with the tip of one finger, the bare minimum contact needed for him to shift the flesh and assess.
The tender moment had passed. This was clinical. He was inspecting her.
It was demeaning and crude to be treated like a horse who’d been ridden hard and was now being checked before being turned out for the night.
She should hate it. This sort of objectification wasn’t something she enjoyed.
But her pussy was pulsing, the slight pressure from her panties against her labia a tantalizingly feather-light sensation. Enough to keep her painfully aware of her sex, but not enough to provide real stimulation.
Alena squeezed her knees together and nearly moaned.
Impact play scenes, rope bondage, even some role play, could all take place without sex or even nudity involved. In more private settings and munches, subs were often naked because it increased their feelings of vulnerability and heightened the power disparity, not as a prelude to sex.
She’d trained with a Dom who’d enjoyed topping her, used orgasms as a reward, but hadn’t ever made any sexual advances.
Even in her first proper scene, when novelty and uncertainty had heightened every sensation, she hadn’t felt this combination of soft submission and aching need.
What would it be like if they changed the rules? If she added penetration and sexual options to their play?