Freed (Assassin's Revenge #3)

My spanking. As we’d talked, his hands had roamed all over my body, caressing my back, my ass, the back of my thighs. Filling me with heated lust and an aching longing for more. I was so ready for my spanking.

Smack. His palm made stinging contact with my ass and I whimpered, though I arched my back in a mute plea for more. “Count them out,” he said, kneading my cheeks to soothe the burn. “Thank me after each one.”

“One,” I whispered into the sheets. “Thank you Sir.”

Two hard slaps followed, where ass met thigh. I jumped a little in his lap, and yelped, but quickly voiced a count and thanks.

He yanked my panties up the crack of my ass, giving me a very grown-up wedgie. With my ass cheeks exposed, two quick smacks landed, the clap of sound echoing around the room, followed quickly by a soothing rub of that aching spot. “Check in for me, pain-wise,” he asked.

“I’m good,” I replied, unable to keep the note of surprise out of my voice at his concern.

“Another thing your previous Dom didn’t bother to do?” He sounded disgusted.

I didn’t want to talk about Dylan. I wanted to stay submerged in this moment with Alexander. I wiggled my ass at him and he obligingly spanked me again. When I forgot to count it out, he spanked me harder. “Are you going to be rebellious, cherie?” he asked. This time, I heard the definite note of steel in his voice. Rather than make me afraid, it just made me melt.

“No Sir,” I said. “Six and seven, Sir. Thank you.”

My spanking continued. My ass felt aflame, though I didn’t call a stop. While each spank hurt, the pain was bearable. And the pleasure? Oh, the pleasure of his palms gliding over my skin, his fingers teasing at my * and anus, his nails raking down my thighs with a sharpness that caused me to moan out aloud, his mouth biting at my red ass, sending twin bolts of pleasure and pain shuddering through me...

When I’d gasped out ‘twenty’, he relented and brought me to my first screaming orgasm.

As I recovered, I felt his strong hands turn me over to face him. I looked into his eyes. “Thank you, Sir,” I said softly.

He smiled and kissed my lips. “We are just getting started,” he said. He lifted me off his lap and set me down on the bed on my side, so that my tied hands wouldn’t make lying down awkward. I watched with eager eyes as he took off his clothes. “Open,” he ordered, and thrust his dick in my mouth.

My eyes widened in surprised pleasure as I sucked his hard shaft. This wasn’t something he allowed very often and it felt like a treat. But if the act of blowing him off was supposed to take my mind of my own desire, it didn’t work. As I heard his throaty groans and saw each and every expression flit across his face, my own arousal spiralled alarmingly high. I told myself I couldn’t come from just sucking him off, but my body was so, so close to making a liar out of me.

His hands curled in my hair as he pumped in and out of my mouth. I heard myself make slurping, gagging sounds as I felt him go deeper and push into my throat. I should have been terrified.

Instead, some part of me was exultant. Alexander never lost control, but he was painfully close to losing it now, and I was the person who had taken him to the very edge. In that moment, it was impossible to feel anything other than purely sexual.

He pulled out before he came and I whimpered, feeling an acute sense of loss. “Not yet,” he said, with a wry twist of his lips. “I’m not quite done with your punishment.”

Don’t punish me, just take me, I wanted to scream out. Instead, I stayed silent as he helped me off the bed and onto my knees, his hands steadying me as I struggled for balance. Once I was in position, I looked up at him, waiting for him to tell me what to do.

This was what I’d never experienced with Dylan. The peacefulness of my surrender, the utter relaxation that came knowing that I’d given him my trust and my control. The security of knowing that I was following my instincts and everything told me that Alexander wouldn’t hurt me.

Not unless I begged for it and even then, it would all stop if I used my safe word.

He walked away for a moment and I could hear him rummaging through the dresser for some toys. He’d openly invited me to explore the playroom any time I wanted. “Look through everything,” he’d said, earlier this week. “If there’s something you want to try, let me know.”

I hadn’t taken advantage of his offer. Now, as I waited on my knees, with anticipation and heavy desire running through my veins, I wished I had. He would help me learn. His eyes were always warm, a smile never far from his lips. Exactly the way he’d been in Paris two years ago, on a summer night in Saint Denis.

When he returned, he carried a flogger and a medium-sized stainless steel butt plug in his hands. “Relax,” he chided with a smile. “I do have lube. Your eyes became as round as saucers.”