Clubwhore (Devil's Renegade MC #1)(38)

“Too late for apologies. Maybe after this, you’ll think twice before you defy me.” His voice comes from behind me, and I crane my neck to try to see him, despite the blindfold.

“No, really. I swear. I’m ready.”

“That’s not how this works, Love. Disobedience has repercussions.”

“Please! Just talk to me! I don’t understand!” My plea is desperate, and genuine. I’m so confused with all of this. I deserve a second chance.

“We will talk. After I give you exactly what I promised.” He’s not retreating. This is going to happen. My breathing becomes ragged—panicky. I jump at the feel of his hand at my hip, but his touch is soft. He slides it up to cup my jaw as he walks around to face me.

“Shhh…” He pulls the blindfold from my face. I calm almost the moment my eyes adjust to the dimly lit room as his thumb rubs soft circles over my cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you because I simply want to, Love. I’m doing this to teach you a lesson.” His eyes are soft—patient as he continues to explain.

“Orgasm denial is very powerful, but beneficial for you. If you can learn to control it, you won’t need the pain. The reprieve from sexual release will be enough.”

He tips my head forward, placing a kiss at my hairline. Instead of feeling the gesture in my groin, the tender touch registers in my chest. “You didn’t even attempt to try, Love. If you had, I’d have shown you mercy. You don’t get pleasure from pain. That tells me you’d rather me hurt you than not touch you at all.”

He gives me another kiss, this one at the corner of my lips. Green eyes bore into mine—calm and considerate. His explanation is discerning and I cling to every word. “Not everyone is like me, Love. They won’t have limits. They won’t stop when they know you’ve had enough. So you have to understand how to control the urges. You have to fight against the desire, and use it to your advantage. I will teach you, but you have to listen to me. Do you understand?” A fat tear rolls down my cheek as I nod.

“An answer, Love.”

“I understand.” Disappointment swells in my gut. He’s going out of his way—devoting his time to helping me, and all I’ve done is waste it.

I close my eyes in an attempt to stop my flow of threatening tears. I’m thankful as he slides the blindfold back over my face—engulfing me in complete darkness once again.

“Now,” he starts, stepping around me—his voice once again hard and demanding. “I’m going to deliver on my promise. Then I’m going to fuck you. And you will not come, unless I tell you to. Understood?”

“Yes,” I manage, a sob already building in my throat. It breaks free of my lips when my body jerks with the impact of something hard. Pain—throbbing, sweltering pain envelops me. It’s quickly followed by another searing ache that lands just above the last one.

The loud crack that rumbles through the room doesn’t come from his hand. As promised, he’s spanking me hard. The thick leather belt is unforgiving as it lashes my vulnerable skin that was already too hypersensitive—making the pain that much worse.

This spanking hurts worse than all the others combined, but it doesn’t last nearly as long. After the sixth blow, my body tenses in anticipation for the next one that never comes. But I keep my guard up as I fight to control my breathing—my cries loud and broken.

Broken.

Exactly how I feel.

But much like my punishment, the crippling feeling in my chest doesn’t last long. The blindfold is ripped from me again as Bryce’s arms circle me—holding me tight to him…lifting my legs around his waist…embracing me as I sob into his neck.

“I got you, Love.” His lips rain kisses over my hair, as he repeats the words. “I got you.” And he does. He’s got me. He’s got my submission. My complete surrender.

“Look at me, Love. Let me see your pretty face.” Somehow I find the strength to pull my head from his chest and meet his eyes. They’re filled with adoration—praise and pride. “You are beautiful even when you cry.” My stomach constricts as I fight another sob at his admission.

“Shhh, Love. I don’t want you to cry anymore. Let me pleasure you. I want you to fall to pieces in my arms. And when you do, I swear I’ll be here to put you back together.”

His words shatter any walls I had left. The vise around my heart shatters. The most vital organ in my body thumps a steady, heavy rhythm against my chest—and in this beautiful moment, it beats solely for him.

He kisses me then—sensually, erotically and passionately. His tongue sweeps through my mouth—not leaving one inch untouched. He masks my scent with his own until he’s all I taste. One hand drags slowly across the curve of my hip. My skin tingles from his gentle caress as he hoists my leg higher up his waist.

I want to touch him. My hands burn with the need to trace the planes of his muscles…feel his warm skin beneath my fingers…claw the tattooed flesh that covers his arms. But I refuse to ask—my desire to be under his command and do only as he asks more crucial than my own selfish greed.

The thick, swollen head of his cock presses against the inflamed lips of my pussy. He works his way between them—rubbing his length against the slick folds and gaining access to my entrance that quivers on contact.

Slowly, he drives into me—pushing through the satiny, narrow passage that stretches to accommodate him. A wave of bliss ripples through me as he inches further until he’s seated deep inside me. His eyes disappear behind his heavy lids as a breathy sigh escapes his lips.

Unmoving, he closes his mouth and swallows—composing himself. When his lids lift slowly, striking emerald eyes stare back at me—dominant and salacious. His arm around my back tightens, as does the hand beneath my thigh—securing me to him.

Then he moves in long, stimulating strokes that awaken every nerve inside me. The thick, warm feel of his length sliding gracefully through my channel ignites the fuse of my impending orgasm. I greedily close my walls around him—my pussy tightening and pulsing involuntarily…acting out of pure instinct…trying to trap him inside me…refusing to release him without a fight.

He groans deep—the low vibrations tickling my stomach that’s flush against his. “You’re killing me, Love,” he growls, as he flexes his hips hard and impales me with a sharp thrust.

“You’re killing me,” I cry, when his cock rubs against that tiny scrap of velvety flesh tucked away deep inside me. I want to hold back. I don’t want to disappoint him anymore. But it’s been too long. I’m too desperate. And even though my mind is strong, my body is weak—threatening to release without my permission. Without his permission.

“Is that it, Love?” He thrusts hard once again, and my entire body pulses with the euphoric feeling. “Is that the sweet spot?”

“Yes!” My head falls back and my hands fist around the chains for leverage as I arch my back.

“Look at me.” I react instantly to his demand. My mouth parted, my eyes heavy as I meet his gaze that darkens when he speaks. “Come, Love.”

As he says the words, his cock surges inside me. Not just brushing across the spot that triggers my orgasm, but completely absorbing it—fusing the hard flesh of his length with the delicate, erogenous tissue.

My climax erupts—the irrevocable feeling bringing me to the brink of unconsciousness. Heavenly sensations like I’ve never experienced swim through me—splashing waves of carnal, wet heat to every pore…every fiber…every cell in my body.

I never knew how beautiful coming could be. But in this moment, I fully understand. I’m reveling in the aftershocks of my own release when he floods me with his. He showers me with bursts of searing hot liquid—once again masking the scent of my own arousal with his. He’s marking me—staking his claim. And I want him to.

Moments pass before he lifts my body from his. When his cock slides out of my sodden pussy, I shiver with the friction, then from the loss. Keeping me to his waist, he uncuffs me—catching my wrist in his hand before my leaden arm can fall. He folds it around his neck before doing the same with my other arm. Pain shoots from my shoulders, across my neck and down my back. I make some unintelligible noise of discomfort.

“Don’t worry, Love. I’ll take care of you.” My heart flips again, while the pain slightly subsides at his promise. There’s no doubt he’ll take care of me. Ever since I’ve known him, that’s all he’s done.

A burst of cold air surrounds me as he passes between the doors that lead inside the house. Even though I shiver, the wintry weather is welcome on my damp skin. His hand moves in large circles across my back—spreading the heat from his hand across my goose-bumped flesh.

My eyes follow the dark wood paneling of the hall as he carries me through the house. We come to a room near the front of the house I’d yet to explore. For some reason, I’d thought it was a closet. But the dusty smell of unused furniture fills the pitch black air. Another door is opened and a light comes on, illuminating a small bathroom.

A long mirror runs the length of the wall behind the sink, and I’m greeted with our reflection. Like a child, I’m curled around him. I look small in his arms—vulnerable and shy compared to him, who’s big, powerful and fully in control.