His Gift 3(12)

“The firefighters found me in the stairwell, huddled in the corner. All I could say was that it was my fault, my fault. They took me away and put out the fire, but everything had burned to ash. My family. Everything.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“How old were you?”

“Four and a half.”

My face contorted in grief. Imagining Jake as a little boy running through the fire and smoke, finally fleeing… I couldn’t get the image out of my mind.

He breathed in and out again, the vapor of his breath misting the mirror.

“It was my fault they died,” he said. “I tried to save them but I couldn’t find her quick enough. I couldn’t see—”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I said.

Suddenly he slammed his fist into the mirror. It cracked into a spiderweb of fractures where his hand had hit it.

“They’re dead!” he yelled. His voice filled the room and when he turned on me there was a fury in his eyes that chilled me to the core. “Dead!”

My breaths hitched but I didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything I could say.





Chapter Eight



For the next few days, Jake didn’t speak to me again about his family, and I didn’t bring it up.

He left me during the days to paint, and tied me up at night in the mirrored room. When he tied me up, I remembered not to call him Jake. His father’s name.

He never took my virginity, but oh! The other things he did to me scorched my body and sent me into gasping orgasms.

The first night after he told me his story, he bound me not with handcuffs, but with a long silk tie that he wound around my entire body. I was immobilized on the bed, and he rolled me over, sinking his tongue deep into me until I shuddered and shook, my thighs clenched around his head.

The second night he tied me down on my back. I didn’t know what he was going to do until the first drips of red candlewax fell onto my chest. I screamed. I writhed. The pain was almost too much, but somehow it went right around and soon I was screaming with pleasure as the red hot wax ran down my thighs.

My screams had been too much for Jake, too. I’d barely managed to catch my breath when he pulled his cock out of his pants. He didn’t even need to stroke it, just gripped it hard at the base as he came all over my chest. His white cum shot out and dripped over my skin, mixing with the red wax as he panted, leaning over me. I swore he was going to kiss me then, but he didn’t.

He never once kissed me on the mouth.

***

I thought that had been the worst of it. That somehow I’d exhausted his imagination of painful pleasures.

How wrong. How utterly wrong.

The next time he tied me up, it was upright. My arms held me swinging and my toes barely touched the sheets. I was hanging like a fly caught in a spiderweb. And Jake was the spider.

When he brought out the crop I almost fainted. Not that it would have mattered much, I suppose. He would have slapped me to bring me around. But I couldn’t stop staring at what he held in his hand.

A thin leather strap at the end of a knotted rod. It probably shouldn’t have looked so scary, but after having my skin spanked pink I was ready to run.

Jake trailed the crop down along my side down to my hip. The leather felt cool, almost welcome against the burning of my skin, but I knew what he was going to do with it.

At least, I thought I did.

At first, it was light whips across my asscheeks. I yelped through the gag he’d casually knotted around my mouth. Stripes of pain made me twist like a helpless animal of prey. Yes, prey. Jake was a predator, and he didn’t bother to hide it. When he went around behind me, I sobbed in terror and anticipation.

Despite it all, I wanted him. I wanted the predator to catch me. I needed him to tear me apart and put me back together. I thrilled under his touch, no matter how harsh. But I had never thought that he would do this to me.

The crop whipped me again, but this time it was against my already-slick folds. I screamed. Oh God, I screamed. The ache of wanting him was too much combined with the burning whip of the riding crop between my thighs.

Again, he struck me. Again. Again. And he continued to whip me until the pain turned to pleasure and I came, the orgasm jerking me into unconsciousness.

When I woke, his cock was sliding between my asscheeks. I moaned, feeling his thick shaft press through between my thighs, then back.

Was this it? Would he finally take me?

I had spent the past few days in terrible anticipation of this moment, but now that it was here all I could do was choke out a groan of need. The tip of his cock pressed against my entrance, and then—

And then—

He pulled back without entering me, and I sobbed as he came, the thick ropes of white dripping down my ass and between my thighs. He didn’t need me like I needed him. He didn’t need me at all. When he untied me, I crumpled to the bed and curled up, and he left me in the darkness.