Dirty Bad Secrets(40)

I leaned over him, my body pressed to his back to hold him in position. It was perfect leverage, the perfect angle to hit him hard.

I didn’t count how many he took. I didn’t even care. There was only the thrill of his body beneath me, a thrill that made my clit throb ever so sweetly. I rested my cheek against his clammy shoulder, soaking up his pain as he grunted and jerked beneath me.

“Tell me it hurts, pretty boy,” I whispered. “Tell me you’re fucking sorry.”

He didn’t utter a word, letting out only a long low growl as the strap curled around his thigh.

“I spent three years of my life kneeling before a man who wouldn’t bend for me,” I breathed. “Don’t think I’m about to do the same again. I left that weak pathetic Faye in Italy, Andy, and no matter how hard you fucking push me she’s never coming back. I’m not going to break for a man who won’t show me the same courtesy, not ever fucking again.”

I dropped the strap and caught my breath, my chest rising in unison with his underneath me and I felt so fucking horny.

“I’m done,” I said. “Done with your shit, done with his shit, done with everything. I’m here for my fifty, and I’m not going anywhere. You’ll have to fucking deal with it.”

“This isn’t even fucking about me, is it? What the hell happened to you out there, Faye? What’s with the crazy fucking bloodlust?” He strained his head to meet my eyes. “I think it’s about time you started fucking talking.”

“You’re in no position to tell me what it’s time for.” He flinched as I ran my fingers across the welts on his ass. “I like you like this, you know. We could work like this.”

“Don’t count on that,” he snapped. “This isn’t how I fucking play.”

“So you keep saying,” I whispered. “But look at where we are. Look at where we’ve ended up. Maybe this could be our way, Andy. If only you could see how beautiful you are like this, it really does suit you.”

“Are you fucking done?” he said, pulling at the chain.

I let out a low laugh. “Not even fucking close.”

I got to my feet, stepping away for a clearer vantage point. My fucking God, he was magnificent. The muscles in his shoulders were tight from the strain of holding position, but his legs had all but given up the ghost. His thighs were twitchy and veined with adrenaline, a fight or flight reaction that had no-fucking-where to go. He was far from broken, and so fucking far from submissive that the very idea itself was laughable, but fuck was he hot like this. He deserved it. He fucking deserved all of it.

His thighs were criss-crossed red on pink, and his ass was purpling nicely. The cut was still open, dribbling a line of blood down his battered skin. Fucking gorgeous. I took a deep breath and positioned myself between his legs, running my hands up over the welted flesh to follow the glorious curve of his hips as it dipped into his waist.

“I’d love to fuck you like this, pretty boy,” I said. “Grease up a nice big fucking dildo and plough your ass so deep you’d cry like a baby.” I thrust my crotch against his bruises, and he cursed expletives under his breath. “I could take it slow if you asked nicely,” I said grinding into him. “It could feel so fucking good if you let it. All you have to do is break for me.”

He twisted his neck to glare daggers at me over his shoulder. “No fucking chance, Faye. I’m no fucking submissive. Get on with what you’re fucking doing, or let me out of these fucking cuffs.”

“Spoilsport.” I dropped to my knees and spread him wide enough to see the dirty little ring of his asshole. He clenched tight before my eyes, and I smiled to myself. “Just a taste, then,” I whispered. “I bet you taste so fucking good.”

He groaned as my tongue found the spot. I dug at him, squirming my way just inside the tight ring of muscle. He wouldn’t let me in far, but it didn’t matter. He was bound and sore and vulnerable, and fucking delicious.

“More,” I murmured. “Open up for me, pretty boy.”

“No,” he hissed. “If you want to play anal we’ll do it the other way around. Let me out and I’ll show you how fucking good it can feel.”

“Nice try,” I laughed. “But not today, Andy. Not fucking today. In fact, I could keep you here all week, couldn’t I? As long as I fed you, and you had a bucket to shit in. I’d even clean your peachy little arsehole for you, my darling.”

“Stop being fucking stupid and get on with it. You’re fucking boring me.”

“Boring? Moi? Tut fucking tut, pretty boy.” I peppered his skin with soft kisses, loving how the ridged flesh felt against my lips. “I want to see you bleed,” I whispered, no longer sure if I was talking to him or myself. I slid my fingers between my legs, and my clit was so tender it sent wonderful sparks dancing down my thighs. Lust was a heady swirl behind my eyes, demanding more. I picked out a particularly raised welt on his ass, at the juncture of several well placed cane stripes. The purpling was so pronounced, so close to breaking through. It would take just a little coaxing, a little more beautiful pain. I clamped my mouth onto the sweet spot and sucked and his legs came back to life, straightening out as he registered what I was doing. I slipped a hand under to his cock, and he calmed as I worked it, long slow jerks of pleasure to counteract the pain. I opened wide, sucking tender flesh into my mouth, and he groaned, how he fucking groaned. I heard his first proper wail as I bit down, a genuine cry that set my clit on fucking fire. I pulled away with puffy lips, and the result was perfection. My teeth marks pooled with blood, my smudged lipstick framed them like a work of art. “That will last more than a fucking week,” I said.