I can sense when Zeth figures I’ve had enough pleasure. Seconds after I realize it’s probably coming soon, the cane makes a zipping sound as it rips through the air. A burst of pain explodes in my head as the wood connects with the back of my thighs, just below the curve of my ass cheek.
“Ahhh! Shhhh…” I bite back the curse word begging to be screamed out loud, digging my fingers into the pile of the carpet.
“How about that?” Zeth whispers into my ear. His breath on the skin of my neck sends a wave of heat rippling over my skin.
I want to say seven. I want to say seven so bad, but I don’t. “Six,” I pant.
Zeth makes a grunting sound—the sound of his approval. He runs his fingertips down my cheek, down my neck, over my shoulder and down my back as he walks around me. “Open your legs wider for me, Sloane.”
I wince as I place my knees farther apart, doing as he asks. I can’t fight the powerful urge to push back against him as Zeth sinks to his knees and presses himself between my legs. He’s so hard. So hard, pushing his cock forward so it’s rubbing against my clit. He curves himself over me and begins to kiss my back, one vertebra at a time.
“Oh, god. Fuck.” I want him to slide himself into me. I want to feel him inside me as deep as he can go, filling me, stretching me, owning me, but instead Zeth pulls back and uses the cane again. A seven. This time it’s a seven.
“Ahhh! Zeth! Motherffff—” It’s getting harder to choke back the cursing. It feels like I’m winded. Like I’ve fallen on my ass and it’s knocked every last bit of oxygen out of me.
“Eight? Or seven?” Zeth asks. I can hear the labored twist in his own voice, like he’s short of breath himself.
“Seven. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I half laugh, my body still quivering.
“Oh, good god, girl. You have no idea how much.” He leans forward so his cock is pressing urgently against my pussy again, but now he wraps his arm around my body, reaching for my clit. “Are you not enjoying it, Sloane? Because it feels to me as though you might be.”
He’s right. This may be totally outside my comfort zone, but the anticipation of the pain, followed by the reality of it, is driving me crazy. And the burn…the burn is so fucking beautiful. Each time the cane lashes into my skin, I’m practically torn in two trying to escape it, and trying to lean into it at the same time.
“I—I—”
“Say it, Sloane.” He leans back and the cane comes again—fireworks detonating through my body. Wave after wave of pain, surging and pulsing through me, riding high on my heartbeat. My throat tightens.
“Sloane. Say it.”
“Yes. I do. I…I like it.”
The cane comes again. This time I can’t stop myself from screaming. “What was that, Sloane?” Zeth asks, hissing through his teeth.
“Eight! That was an eight!”
I hear the sound of something clattering across the other side of the room, and then Zeth is slamming himself into me, his cock thrusting deep and hard and fast.
“Fuck, Sloane. Your ass is so red. I want to spank it.”
“Please. Please.” That’s all I can get out. I want him to spank it. I want to feel throbbing, stinging, smarting ache charge through me as he slams himself inside me, over and over again.
“Shit.” Zeth uses his palm on me. A loud crack fills the room as his hand connects, the pain less bright than with the cane but still enough to make me scream.
Every muscle in my body is locked tight and singing with sensation as Zeth fucks me. He fucks me so hard I can literally feel my orgasm building with each and every thrust, the tension hitting me like a punch to the gut. Over, and over, and over, and then…
“I can’t—oh, fffffffuck. Zeth, I can’t—”
Zeth covers my body with his own, still pounding himself into me. He reaches up my body and takes a hold of my nipple, and he pinches, hard. At the same time, I feel his teeth bite down into the skin of my shoulder, sending a wall of raw energy slamming through me.
I scream. I scream violently as I come, my throat feeling like it’s being torn to shreds. I don’t scream his name, or ask him to stop. It’s just sound, splintering out of me—the purest of releases.
Zeth roars as he comes, too. Up until now he’s been holding his own body weight, but he goes boneless as he climaxes, his arms and legs quitting on him. The result is instant and bone crushing. We both go down, him on top of me.
“Fuck. Sorry,” he apologizes, gulping in air. He shifts slightly, dragging himself to the side. It clearly costs him energy he doesn’t have when he reaches up and unties the blindfold from around my eyes. We’re face to face, then, staring at each other, noses only a couple of inches apart. His cheeks are slightly red from exertion, his lips parted. He looks so freaking angelic—dark hair tousled everywhere—that it’s almost hard to believe he’s the little deviant that just flayed my ass raw. I start laughing first. Zeth joins me a second later. He kisses me roughly, pretending to growl.