In His Cuffs(19)

"I hope it would be a distraction," she responded.

"The ultimate. Everything about you is." Including the fact she hadn't  protested his idea. He walked around to the far side of the bed. "Give  me your wrists, please."

She stayed in the position he'd ordered her into, and she could only  lift her head a few inches to look at his eyes as she stretched her  hands towards him. Her eyelids were lowered a bit, and he was  recognising the look as one that came over her when she was getting  deeper and deeper into a submissive headspace.                       
       
           



       

He secured the cuffs and checked the fit. He held her gaze. "I'm going  to beat you," he informed her, "and give you another well-deserved  orgasm."

"Thank you, Mr Tomlinson."

"Are you comfortable enough?"

"Not at all."

He grinned. "Perfect."

"I figured that might be your response, Mr Tomlinson."

"Do you really want it otherwise?"

"No," she said clearly.

"As I thought." He moved behind her.

He trailed his fingers down her back until he was between her buttocks. She parted her legs to give him greater access.

He saw the tension in her muscles as she fought to keep herself in place  while he fondled her pussy. He continued to touch and explore.

"Please, please, please," she said, now shamelessly pressing against his hand.

The tang of her arousal rent the air and urged him on in a primal need  for possession. "How do you keep this side of yourself hidden at work?"  He gave her a few light slaps.

"Oh, Mr Tomlinson. That's …  It's too … " she said as she wriggled, keeping her butt high.

"You're a bit sensitive from earlier?"

"Yes. It won't take much for me to come. I thought I should let you know."

"I'm glad you did." He changed the tempo to give her momentary respite.  "Will the spanking be more memorable to you if you don't orgasm?"

"Probably," she admitted.

"Better not take the chance, hmm?"

"As you wish, Mr Tomlinson."

"I could listen to you say that all day long." After another  stroke-because he could-he removed his hand. "Shall I choose the  implement? Or is there something you prefer?"

"We'll go with Dom's choice."

"Another good answer, Maggie." She might not have got the hang of the  whole respect thing at work, but when her clothes came off, so did her  bad attitude.

She settled deeper into the mattress and into herself.

At some point, the only thing he wanted her to wear was a handprint.

He unbuckled his belt and pulled it free from the loops with a snap. She  moved in response to the sound, perhaps preparing herself for the first  blow.

David folded the leather over and gripped the buckle. She swayed as he  spread his legs and turned sideways to her so that he could aim and hit  with good, precise swings.

He caught her ass with a vicious smack, and the crack reverberated from the ceiling.

Her sigh flowed over him, filled with the softness of her satisfaction.

She stayed in position and he began the beating in earnest. He caught  each of her ass cheeks in turn then landed a powerful blow beneath the  curve of her buttocks.

Unlike earlier, she kept quiet, not requiring anything to muffle her sounds.

"You're made for this."

"Yes, Sir."

He fell into a harsh, regular rhythm, bringing back his arm and blazing the leather across her tender skin.

The harder he hit, the more she seemed to relax.

With a hiss of leather, he caught her hard, just above the backs of her knees.

Her head came up a little. A moment later, she said, "Thank you, Mr Tomlinson."

He landed a second on top of it. While he didn't intend to bruise her,  that part of her legs would ensure a different position when she sat in  her work chair for the next day or so.

"Damn. That's good. More."

David changed his stance and flicked out the belt so it was a single  tail. Now he could use the end to catch her skin with the vicious licks  she asked for.

She whimpered when he marked her, filling him with the masculine urge to give his woman what she was asking for.

"Please spread your knees farther apart." Once she had, he continued, able to reach more of her unmarred and tender places.

Her noises became a little more pronounced, especially when he lighted across her cunt. "Such a good pet," he murmured.

"Oh, Mr Tomlinson."

"Is that a request for me to slow down?"

"No."

"Or the gag?"

"If it pleases you, Sir. But it's not necessary. Just, please, more."

He resumed his hits, most of them across her buttocks punctuated by an occasional and careful tease of her pussy.

She grabbed the bedding, bunching the comforter in her fingers. The  sight of her, exposed and helpless for him, filled him with an  intoxicating mixture of power and humility.

Driven by her greed, he measured his spanks, delivering them at the same  interval until her sounds all but ceased and she relaxed her grip. He  knew she was getting lost in the endorphins flooding her system, but she  had the presence of mind to keep her body in the position he'd  commanded.                       
       
           



       

Though his arm was tired, he stayed with her a few more minutes. "I'm  going to bring you back," he said, his words a whisper so as not to  shatter her reverie. He continued to let the belt fall, but he used less  and less force. "Take your time," he said. "I won't hurry you."

He touched her shoulder, then stroked down her spine.

It took at least a full minute for her to begin to move. "That's it," he  soothed, tossing the belt on nightstand. The buckle hit with a thud  that startled her. "I'm going to release your cuffs," he said with  reluctance, remembering the way she'd run after their night at the Den.  This time, he wouldn't allow her to put immediate emotional or physical  distance between them.

He moved to open the cuffs. As he had earlier, he rubbed her wrists.  This time, she was chafed from the metal. "Stay there," he told her.  "Please." He crossed to the master bath and washed his hands. He found  towels in a cupboard, and he dampened one before carrying it back to  her.

Her body was heated and covered in a sheen of perspiration.

His strokes were gentle as he wiped her shoulders, lifted her hair to  cleanse her nape then moved lower to give relief to the welts on her  buttocks and legs.

"That feels good. Thank you, Mr Tomlinson."

He finished by dabbing her pussy and ass before tossing aside the towel  and turning her over. With extreme care, he removed the clamps. Then he  moved her to the middle of the bed and lay beside her, pulling her  against him. "Don't fight me," he instructed.

Surprising him, she obeyed. She laid her head on his biceps, and her hair spilled across him.

Outside, the sky's colour began to change as dusk cast shadows across the Rockies.

As she emerged from her place of pleasure-pain, he noticed subtle  changes in her. Her breaths became deeper. Her body conformed to his.  Her temperature stabilised. He kept hold of her, though, so she stayed  warm.

"That was … "

He waited.

"One of the best beatings I've had."

One of the best? "I'll have to improve."

She scooted away so she could face him. "I meant it as a compliment, Sir."

He grinned and brushed hair back from her face. Her cheeks were still flushed. "Do you have bandages?"

"Mr Tomlinson?"

"This time, I fear my ego has sustained a mortal wound."

"Well, I'll volunteer my services so you can get more practise." She gave a long-suffering sigh.

Sexy and sassy. This was the Maggie he was beginning to know, buried  beneath layers of professional clothes and a haughty demeanour. The more  she revealed the real her, the deeper he wanted to excavate.

He pulled her tighter against him and held her while she dozed. When she awoke and looked up at him, he got a full-on erection.

"Your turn, I should say, Mr Tomlinson."

"Just to be clear, Maggie, I have no expectation that you have to sleep with me because I beat you."

"I was hoping you would."

He held her chin.

"It's part of it, for me," she admitted.

"I thought we had taken care of your restlessness."

"You did." Her big brown eyes were luminous. She blinked a couple of  times, and if the woman was someone other than Maggie, he would have  said the look was flirtatious. "Okay, fine," she said. "Is this what you  want to hear? I'm horny."

He chuckled.

"I could give you a dozen emotional reasons, but I want sex. If you  choose not to allow me to come, I accept that, but I really want your  enormous, gigantic cock in me."