Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
The world goes soft at the edges. He sits on the bed and pulls me into his lap, my cuffed arms caught between our chests. My knees straddle his hips, the fabric of my dress riding up so far it’s practically a belt. Blue pushes the hem even higher, rough hands sliding under to find bare skin at the backs of my thighs.
“You didn’t obey,” he says, mouth against my ear. “You’re going to pay for it.”
“Yeah?” I want what’s coming so badly my body aches. “How?”
He reaches behind me, finds the zipper. One tug and my dress peels open, the angle awkward with my arms stuck in front of me. He yanks the straps off my shoulders and exposes my bra, black-and-lace, probably twisted and misshapen from the night’s misadventures. The way he stares at my chest makes my nipples pebble beneath the thin mesh.
He tugs the straps down, pulls the cups lower, palms my tits like he’s weighing them for a recipe. Grazes his thumb over the nipple until I gasp. Then pinches. Hard.
“Ow,” I say, and squirm, but my hips roll into his lap on instinct.
His teeth are at my throat, scraping gently, then sinking in. “You’ll take exactly what I give you.”
His hands work the dress and bra off me, tearing what’s left to get over the handcuffs. He makes a sound deep in his chest, a little snarl, then flips me flat onto the mattress, face-down, ass high in the air.
He kneels over me, tugs my hips back, and bites a line up the inside of my thigh. My body’s gone boneless, floating in endorphin soup already. Blue presses a warm palm to the small of my back, holding me steady as his other hand slides up the backs of my thighs and between them.
He doesn’t ask permission. Just hooks a finger under the lace and rips my panties down to my knees, cold air kissing the heat of my exposed cunt. I whimper, more from bashfulness than pain, and grip the sheet with my cuffed hands.
Two fingers between my legs now, blunt and thick, finding me soaked. He spreads me open and touches with deliberate slowness, just enough friction to make me buck against his hand.
“I could make you come like this,” Blue says, lazy and cruel. “But I think you’d rather beg.”
“I won’t,” I manage, but it’s pure bravado, and he knows it.
He slides his fingers out, leaving me aching and empty. Then he smacks my ass, a pop that makes my whole body jolt forward on the bedspread.
“Count,” Blue says.
I don’t hesitate. “One.”
He spanks harder, the sting blossoming into molten want. “Two,” I breathe, before he even asks.
He delivers five, each strike landing precisely where it’ll burn the longest. My ass prickles with heat, and my head empties of everything but this: him, the pain, the electric connection.
Then he gently rubs his palm over the reddened skin, soothing and almost tender. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Now, turn over.”
I obey, rolling onto my back. He props me up with pillows, arranges my arms above me so the chain bites prettily into my wrists. There’s no way to cover myself, so I don’t even try; my thighs are already spread. Just like what he did to my ass, he does to my pussy. Spanking my folds as I gasp with each sting. He smirks at the rivers on my cheeks—I didn’t realize I’d been crying, the release so sudden and intense.
Blue stands at the edge of the bed, looking down at me. “You want to say something?”
I should want more. Mercy, maybe, or at least a few seconds to compose myself. But what I want is to see what he’ll orchestrate next. So I shake my head.
He climbs onto the bed, and his hands are everywhere at once: locking around my thighs, spreading me until muscles ache, then—without warning—filling me with three thick fingers at once. My body convulses, tries to clamp down, but he just shushes me. “You can take it,” he growls, and fuck—he’s right—I can, more than I ever thought, and hot shame floods my belly at how easily I yield to him.
He works me open until I can’t tell pain from pleasure. I’m clenching around nothing, desperate for him to fill me for real, but Blue seems to relish the torment. He keeps his hand buried inside me, his other palm roaming slow circles up my torso, sometimes catching on an aching nipple, sometimes gripping around my throat just tight enough to threaten, never quite closing. I want to beg, but pride keeps my lips sealed.
He tests me—pushes harder, curves his fingers and finds the place that makes me see stars, then stops. Again and again. My whole body is a live current, straining for whatever end he decides I deserve.