Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories (12 page)

Read Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories Online

Authors: Sierra Cartwright,Annabel Joseph,Cari Silverwood,Natasha Knight,Sue Lyndon,Emily Tilton,Cara Bristol,Renee Rose,Alta Hensley,Trent Evans,Ashe Barker,Katherine Deane,Korey Mae Johnson,Kallista Dane

Tags: #romance, #spanking romance, #bdsm romance, #erotic romance, #sierra cartwright, #annabel joseph, #cari silverwood, #sue lyndon, #natasha knight, #trent evans, #cara bristol, #ashe barker, #emily tilton, #katherine deane, #Kallista Dane, #alta hensley, #korey mae johnson, #renee rose, #holiday romance, #Valentine's Day

BOOK: Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories
5.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“How do your nipples feel?”

Now that the height of the orgasm had faded, she was aware of a dull ache. “They’re throbbing a little,” she admitted.

He plumped her breasts.

She sucked in a breath. The sensation was exquisite, wonderful, sharp, delicious, addictive.

“Just a little?”

“Yes, Master Logan.”

“Let’s see about that.” He threaded an index finger though each of the slender metal rings that were attached to the ends and yanked.

The shocking pain made her scream.

“That’s better,” he said.


Fuck me.
” Her clit throbbed as arousal crashed into her.

Logan grinned.

She realized his action had been calculated. The man knew how to turn her on.

With an achingly gentle motion, he smoothed his thumbs over the tips of her breasts.

She gulped a breath, then let it out in a soft sigh. The juxtaposition of the sensual and the painful caused her synapses to misfire.

“How are you doing?” he asked as he released the rings.

“Fine,” she admitted. “Surprisingly.”

A lock of hair had fallen onto her forehead, and he smoothed it back before again pressing a finger against her clit.

She rocked forward, silently asking for more.

“So needy,” he said.

“Yes.” She looked at him through the fringe of her eyelashes. “I want you to flog me. Or let me come again. Or take off the clamps. Something.” All she knew was, she was crawling out of her mind.

When he didn’t react, her thoughts tumbled. Then she remembered he wanted to be addressed formally. “Sir,” she pleaded.

“My pleasure.”

As she watched, he unfastened the buttons at his wrists and turned back his cuffs. She couldn’t look away from his strong hands or the sinews in his forearms. This man...

He placed a finger beneath her chin and tipped it back. “Tell me your safe word.”

“Marshmallow.”

“You wrinkle your nose every time you say that.”

The conversation seemed friendly, at odds with her being secured to the St. Andrew’s cross, half-naked, nipples clamped, and a mad ache between her thighs.

“And if you need to slow down?”

“Yellow. Can we get on with it?”

His eyes flared with desire. This was so much more than she’d anticipated.

Rather than responding, he picked up the flogger.

She squirmed, in fear, in anticipation. Logan looked bigger than he had, broader, more intimidating. Heaven help her, it thrilled her. The throbbing in her nipples intensified.

He moved behind her, increasing her feeling of helplessness.

She expected to feel the leather searing her skin. Instead, he trailed his fingers across each of her shoulders, then down her spine, stopping at the top of her panties. Suddenly Jennifer wished she had been brave enough to strip entirely. She wanted his touch on her bare skin.

Through the material of her underwear, he rubbed her buttocks before trailing lower to her thighs.

As she relaxed, she spread her fingers wide and pressed against the wood.

“That’s right,” he said soothingly.

He made smaller and smaller circles, and her body tingled.

She closed her eyes. Eventually there seemed to be nothing but the sounds of monks chanting and her own rapid breaths.

Then...silence reverberated.

In response to the fear that started to sneak in, she tightened her muscles.

“If you relax, it won’t hurt as much.”

She took a steadying breath before exhaling.

He draped the leather strands over her shoulder, then drew them down in a sensual caress.

The first fall against her buttocks felt like a light sting.

“Unclench your ass,” he told her.

“I’m trying.”

He stroked her back with his hand and with the flogger’s strands.

“Let go. Surrender. Experience.”

He stunned her by reaching between her legs to play with her damp pussy.

She bent her knees as much as she could, seeking. “More,” she begged, wanting him inside her. “Please.”

“You’ll get everything you want.”

He moved away and gave her the first hit that truly hurt.

She stiffened. Then, remembering his coaching, she forced out a breath.

Another strike fell, followed by several more, one after another.

Her dreams had not come close to the thrill of reality. The leather was wicked and sensuous, all at the same time. It burned, stung, and when the sensations receded, she was left with an unfulfilled need crawling through her. She was turned on, horny, desperate.

Her nipples hardened, throbbing.

He went on and on, the tips of the strands landing on her buttocks and thighs, her back.

He seemed to hit every place at once, in dull, biting thuds.

“Breathe,” he coached her. “Surrender.”

She did, giving up the struggle, willing her muscles to soften.

He then flogged her in earnest, back and forth, crisscrossing her body, blazing trails of sensation.

Jennifer’s entire being rose to another level of awareness. The temperature seemed to get hotter, and she began to perspire. She felt supple. As he’d suggested, she allowed the restraints to be a saving grace, and she curled her hands around them for extra support.

Then, as if intuitively reading her mind, Logan increased the pressure.

He hit her ass so hard the wind was knocked out of her. Immediately, her pussy got wetter. The clamps bit deeper.

“You’re doing well.”

She wasn’t sure whether she was or she wasn’t. All she knew was she hoped he wouldn’t stop.

For long minutes, he rhythmically flogged her. A light, glancing blow made her sigh. Then he caught her beneath her buttocks with a sharp upward swing, and she screamed.

“That’s it, on your toes.”

His constant hits made her squirm. Then they became worse. “Oh, God.” She wasn’t sure whether she said it out loud or it echoed in her head.

Relentlessly, he continued. His next few dozen hits seared her.
Yellow
raced through her mind, but before she could form it, he changed his pattern, hitting her with infinitely gentle smacks. This was more of a dance. And then all of her thoughts ceased.

Her eyes were closed, but she saw twinkling lights, so blue they appeared white.

She stopped struggling, with him, the process, herself. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized what he’d meant when he’d told her to do that, but now she did. There was no conflict, just a calm acceptance, then an expectation, a welcoming.

From somewhere distant, she heard a bell ringing, then the sound of chants, softly, then louder. She seemed to be floating, simultaneously somewhere and nowhere at all.

Every part of her body vibrated, and she’d never been needier.

It took her a long while to realize that the flogging had stopped, and that he’d already released her right wrist. He was rubbing it when she opened her eyes.

“Move slowly.”

If I can.

His body was pressed tight against hers, and she felt the scratchy denim of his jeans against her skin. And for the first time, she inhaled the scent of him—the crispness of a winter night, the undeniable appeal of masculine strength.

Earlier, his size and shadowed past had unnerved her. Now it gave her a sense of peace, made her feel protected.

With deft motions, he unfastened her left wrist and rubbed the chafed skin. That he was capable of such tenderness astounded her.

“Let me look at you.”

She hadn’t realized he’d unfastened her ankles.

He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

“I’m going to remove the nipple clamps,” he said. “Fair warning. It will hurt.”

He removed the first one, and a sharp sting pierced her. But he closed his mouth around the abused tip and sucked on it until pleasure replaced pain.

She drew a breath before he took off the second.

After he was done, he helped her over to a bench, then went to the stereo and turned down the volume slightly.

“How are you doing?”

“Honestly?” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Earlier, you said we might have sex...”

“And...?” He stood in front of her. His eyes, green and banked with golden fire, devoured her.

“Fuck me, Master Logan.”

*****

H
e crouched in front of her and framed her face between her palms. “Do you want to think about it? Wait until you’re a little steadier?”

Dead-on, she met his gaze. “No.”

“You were pretty far gone.” He liked to give his subs what they wanted after a scene, from snuggling to a long conversation, even sharing a hot bath. One submissive had stunned him by wanting to go for a run, but this...? With a woman he barely knew and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about?

“Do you have condoms?”

“Yeah.”

“Then get one.” She grinned. “Master Logan.”

He shouldn’t be surprised she was this complex, a bit sassy with some reserve mixed in. He’d had a glimpse of her personality a few weeks ago when she’d almost refused to take his card and then hadn’t called.

“Please,” she added.

Since he’d first touched her, he’d wanted to fuck her. Flogging her had only driven up his need. “Upstairs. In one of the bedrooms.” Where he could pin her down and drive into her.

“This is fine.”

“You have something in mind?”

A Muse song filtered through the play area, all but encouraging sex.

She shrugged off the bra, dropped it on the nearby pile of clothes, then placed her hands at her sides and rolled her shoulders back. Her invitation was blatant and appreciated.

He pulled out his wallet and extracted a condom.

She held out a hand, and he tossed it. Without breaking the bond of their gazes, she caught it.

Yeah.
It had been a long fucking time since a woman had intrigued him this powerfully.

He bent to remove his boots, and she stopped him.

“May I?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Certainly, little sub.”

She spread her legs to make room for his foot.

“This would be better if you’d taken off the underwear.”

Jennifer removed each of his boots in turn. He couldn’t remember if Helen had ever performed such an intimate act for him. He enjoyed her service.

He didn’t miss her tiny shudder as he tugged his belt from its loops.

“Do you want to feel this on your ass?” he asked.

“I’d never thought about it before. But suddenly I’m fascinated.”

That made two of them. The idea of her being over his knee, scrabbling for purchase while he spanked her, made his cock throb.

He removed his shirt, and she accepted it, maintaining eye contact as she placed it on the bench next to her. Then he unzipped his pants.

“Commando?” she asked.

“Always.”

Her eyes widened when he dropped his jeans and she looked at his erect dick. “Is it because you can’t find anything to fit over that thing, Sir?”

He grinned at her humor.

As if mesmerized, she continued to stare. “You scare me a little.”

“Good.” The fit would be fine. Just fine. He finished undressing and said, “Put the condom on me.”

With deliberation, she ripped open the package. But instead of rolling the latex down his cock, she stood and wiggled out of her panties.

Seeing her there, small, naked, vulnerable, made his protective instincts blaze. He wanted to possess her and never let her go.

He raised a finger, indicating she wait while he swept his gaze over her, from her full breasts to the tormented nipples that still bore marks from his clamps, to the gentle swell of her belly, the curve of her hips, her neatly trimmed pussy. “You’re beautiful, Jennifer.”

She grinned. “You are too, Master Logan.”

“Cheeky wench.”

Without being instructed, she slid to her knees and reached for him.

She cupped his testicles in her left hand and stroked his shaft with the other. At first she used long, sweeping motions, then began to use shorter, faster ones.

“The condom.” He put his hand on hers, stilling her. “
Now.

“Yes, Master Logan.” Her tone was proper. The way she glanced up at him was anything but.

Defiant, disobedient, she licked a drop of pre-ejaculate from the tip of his swollen dick, then touched her tongue to her upper lip.

“Jennifer,” he warned. “Unless you want to be put back on the cross to experience my wrath...”

She lowered her head so he couldn’t see the expression in her eyes, but there was no doubting the fact this little sub had more than a bit of sass in her personality. “There might be a spanking in your future,” he vowed.

“Anything you say, Master Logan.”

Her grip sure and confident, and fucking arousing, she placed the condom on his cockhead, then rolled the latex down into place.

Then, looking at him through that impossible long fringe of lashes, she stroked.

“No.” His hand on hers, he stopped her.

“But—”

“Last warning, Jennifer.” He sat and pulled her into his lap facing him.

She landed with a whoosh of breath and a sensual laugh.

This woman...
Everything about her responsive body appealed to him. “Lift yourself a bit.”

“Anything you say, Sir.”

This time, there was no hint of a tease, just pure submissive response.

After wrapping her arms around his neck, she rose onto the balls of her feet while he guided his cock toward her damp pussy.

“I want you, Master Logan,” she whispered into his ear. She lowered herself, taking the tip before rising again.

He put his hands on her waist, supporting her, letting her set the pace.

With each stroke, she slowly took his shaft deeper, until he was balls-deep in her.

“Damn,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her head against his shoulder.

“Okay?”

“Give me a second.”

He stroked her spine, her shoulders, then pinched her bottom.

With a yelp, she arched away from him. “Sir!”

Logan dug a hand into her short, spiky, sexy hair and pulled her head back. Her eyes widened, and he watched the smokiness of arousal filter across the blue depths. Then, his motions slow and deliberate, he leaned forward and captured her mouth.

Other books

Azrael by William L. Deandrea
Swag Bags and Swindlers by Dorothy Howell
The Fallen 3 by Thomas E. Sniegoski
Bringing Down Sam by Kelly, Leslie
WashedUp by Viola Grace