LoveLines

“Spread your legs wider,” he said, and I slid my knees farther apart.

 

Now my inner thighs burned. There was no avoiding the pain. It’s as though he knew it. Knees, thighs, it didn’t matter. He was going to put me in a position to make something burn.

 

“My thighs!” I gasped, bucking as best I could against his brutal hands.

 

“Bailey.”

 

“My thighs burn!”

 

His hands were gone in a flash. I winced at the sting in my ass that he left behind from pulling his finger out so quickly. I thought it unwise to turn around. Plus I was too afraid. I kept my cheek suctioned to the table, only just then noticing the sweat sliding down my forehead in beaded currents. My whole body was drenched.

 

I stiffened when I heard him return. He grabbed my wrists roughly and tied them behind my back.

 

“Reece, it hurts!”

 

“Stop whining,” he said into my ear, “or I’ll give you something to whine about.”

 

Motherfucker.

 

“I know what you were thinking the whole time,” he said, moving directly behind me again. “You were thinking how much you wanted me to get you off like this. But you’d never say it. You’d never say it because you’re not that kind of girl, are you? But you’re thinking it. You’re thinking how much you want it to hurt when you come. Well, guess what?”

 

“Untie me!” I demanded.

 

“I’m gonna give you exactly what you want. And I’m gonna make it hurt far worse than your pretty little head could ever imagine.”

 

“REECE!”

 

What the fuck was he slipping around my knee? I couldn’t see, but it felt like rope. This guy was crazy! He pulled it tight around the table leg, then moved to my other knee. Once he had me sufficiently bound and spread open, he left me there. To get a bowl of cereal. Apple Jacks, to be exact, because he was a sick fuck.

 

He pulled a chair up to the table and munched while he observed my face.

 

“You enjoying this?”

 

I couldn’t suppress the grin. “You’re such a jerk. And something’s wrong with me that I let you do these things.”

 

“You think this is reward or punishment?”

 

“Well, my inner thighs feel like they’re about to snap, so I’d say punishment.”

 

He swallowed. “I think you’re right.”

 

“You said you’d give me both,” I reminded him.

 

“Oh, I will, but tell me this first.”

 

I couldn’t wait to hear what was about to come out of his mouth.

 

“Did you like my tongue on your asshole?”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Hmmm.” He stood up and slapped my ass. I howled. “Did you like my tongue on your asshole?”

 

“Yes! Okay?! Yes, I did!” I turned my face away from him.

 

“Bailey?”

 

“What?” I snapped.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he replied.

 

“Maybe not for you, but I grew up in the South, buddy. And shit like that is not acceptable.”

 

He chuckled. “I grew up in the South, too.”

 

“You grew up in Maryland,” I countered.

 

“That’s south of the Mason Dixon Line,” he explained.

 

“Whatever, Reece. My thighs are on fire!” I squealed.

 

“You’re supposed to beg me for more,” he teased.

 

“Reece!”

 

“But the punishment portion of this kinky session is over.”

 

I sighed relief.

 

“You want your reward?”

 

I nodded.

 

His hand went to my *. I’d never been spread so wide before, tied down, completely vulnerable to his sexual whims. He trapped my clit between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed it gently. I bucked, but it was useless. I really couldn’t go anywhere. I think I was just trying to ease the pressure.

 

“Soft little clit,” he cooed. “Does she like this?”

 

I let out a ragged moan as another finger slipped inside me, pumping me a few times before moving to my ass. He traced the rim of my hole a few times before slipping his finger inside oh-so-gently. I squirmed and squealed, but he kept up his assault. Thrusting slowly in and out of my ass while he rubbed my clit.

 

I was knocked underwater by the wave. I couldn’t stand up on the board in time and missed my opportunity. The water swirled over my calves and thighs, bubbles bursting between my legs and on my face—the final crescendo to this delicious watery score.

 

I didn’t scream. Not at first. I groaned—a sound that bubbled up from the depths of my basic self. Animal. Raw. Naked. Wanting. I couldn’t move because of my binds and was trapped in the painful ecstasy of feeling every pop, swell, shoot, burst of orgasmic undoing. And then I screamed. I screamed long and loud to ease the wicked pleasure, but my cries merely heightened it.

 

“Stop!” I shouted.

 

The spasms kept coming—assaulting my legs and belly, my heart and brain. He wouldn’t move his hands. He was determined to draw it out until I begged for mercy. He pumped my ass and rubbed me incessantly between my legs as all the pleasure petered out, leaving nothing behind but pain.

 

“Please, Reece!”

 

My clit burned then shifted to acute sensitivity. His finger barely grazing it was enough to make me scream until my throat went raw. I stiffened and cried out again.

 

“PLEASE!”

 

He moved his hands, and I panted relief. A sheet of sweat blanketed my body. My thighs had given up the fight, but I knew once he released me and I moved, they’d yell at me all over again.

 

I shook as Reece untied my hands. My shoulders ached, and I stretched out my arms above my head in a sort of child’s pose. He untied my legs next, and once I was free, I rolled over slowly onto my side, wincing at my angry legs.

 

Reece sat down in the chair again and looked me over.

 

“I’ve never belonged to anyone,” he said. All the playfulness was gone. “No one’s ever belonged to me.”

 

I was too vulnerable to hear this. I knew I would cry.

 

“You’ve made me so happy, Bailey. Happier than any man deserves.” He thought for a moment, smiling to himself. The tone in his voice changed. “I think I like to tie you up and do these things because you let me. You trust me. You belong to me.”

 

I nodded.

 

“I’ll never abuse that. Do you believe me?”

 

S. Walden's books