Dangerously Inked (3 page)

His cock jumped.

All it took was one quiet moan and he was already going a little crazy with the need to fuck her.

Soon enough.

Keeping a hand on her back, he bent and exchanged the flogger for a small slapper made of two pieces of wide, flat leather joined together at one end with a D-ring. A small toy with a lot of impact, if used correctly.

He reached into her hair again and pulled hard at the scalp, making her whimper.

“Does it hurt?” he asked her.

“Yes…”

“Too much?”

“Not enough.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I do like you, Roisin.”

He moved around to the front of her, keeping his fingers buried tightly in her hair. He wanted to watch her, to see her face. And he needed to work those pretty breasts.

He pulled her hair hard, forcing her head back. Harder, forcing her back to arch.

“Ah!”

“Does it hurt, sweetheart?”

“Yes, it fucking hurts.”

“But you like it.”

“Yes,” she gasped as he gave hard tug.

He bent and kissed her neck once more, tasting her with the tip of his tongue, vanilla simmering on his lips. She moaned low in her throat. He knew if he reached down between her thighs she’d be wet. But he’d let that wait—
make
 her wait for that.

He slid his tongue down to the shallow hollow at the base of her throat, paused to swirl it there, then kissed his way back up to the tender spot behind her ear.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered.

“I want…I want the pain,” she answered, a hitch in her voice. “I want you to hurt me. I need it. And I want you to touch me.”

“Ah, good girl. Perfect girl, maybe.”

Why had he said that? But it felt true in some inexplicable way. He’d just met her. Had hardly touched her yet. But he 
wanted
 her with a fierceness he’d never felt for any woman before.

Control.

Yes. Control was what kept him safe. Kept the world safe from him. Especially pretty little girls like Roisin.

But she was so fucking beautiful he could hardly stand it. So responsive, despite that underlying need to deny her own desires, to fight it, to give him hell. Even as she told him what she wanted, her body had tensed all over.

He was fucking hard all over, his cock, every muscle in his body, responding to this woman.

He shook his head, pulled her hair even harder until she let out a sharp gasp. Then he was on her. Filling one hand with her lush breast and squeezing, kneading, using his fingertips on the pressure points beneath her breast, while with the other he reached behind her and used the leather slapper on her ass, smacking her with swift, powerful, relentless strokes.

It was only his years of experienced that allowed him any control as he kissed her neck, her breasts, her shoulders. Then he was biting her between the kisses, his teeth digging into her skin, making her cry out. He knew his teeth would leave marks deep in her flesh, marks that would last for a month. He loved the idea—it drove him on, made him bite her harder, made the kisses more tender. It was like some mad make-out session, except that she was chained up, under his command, helpless beneath what he knew was an onslaught, but he couldn’t stop himself.

She was moaning, squirming in pain. Squirming with pleasure. And he was so fucking hard he thought that his cock might tear free from his jeans, that he could come all over her without even fucking her, like some teenager.

Oh, God, she thought she could come from pure sensation overload—the slapper against her flesh, hard and hurting until she could barely take it. His big hand on her breast, working the full flesh, rubbing and scratching at her hard nipple through the tape. And his mouth…oh, his mouth was making her crazy, his teeth so damn sharp, making her yell, making her throat raw. His lips soft, his tongue so wet and…perfect. Jesus, if only he’d use his mouth on her…just get down between her thighs and plunge inside her.

“Oh…” she groaned.

He slid his tongue lower, in the space between her breasts, and bit into her breast, small nibbles that led to deeper bites, digging his teeth into her needy flesh.

“Yes,” she whispered, letting her head fall back as she welcomed it all—pain and pleasure and 
him
.

He let the slapper fall from his hand and dug his fingers into the back of her thigh, hard, finding the pressure points there once more. It fucking hurt, enough to make her yell again, a low growl that hurt her throat.

“Yes…Finn…Sir…” she panted.

He seemed to take it as permission. He bit her so damn hard she almost had to safe-word—her breasts, her stomach, her shoulders. She was gasping, groaning, nearly screaming. As soon as she thought she really couldn’t take any more he’d pause to lick her skin, to bathe the hurting spots with his sleek tongue. At the same time he was scraping his nails over the skin on her ass, her thigh, her hip, growling at her in answer to her cries. It was fantastic, sensation pouring through her almost faster than she could process it. All she knew was that it hurt. It felt so damn good. She was soaking wet.

“Please,” she begged.

He pulled her body in tight to his, and it was exactly what she wanted. Oh yes, 
exactly
. His body was solid all over, the hard ridge of his erection pressing into her stomach. Jesus, she’d never felt a wall of muscle like this man. And he held her so damn tight she could barely breathe.

He buried a hand in her hair and yanked back once more, his mouth on her throat demanding compliance. And she gave it, gave in to him. She couldn’t help herself.

She 
gave
. Let it all fall away, until there was nothing but her and him and sensation. She gave it all up for the first time in her life. And forgot for the moment to be scared of anything.

Her mind was emptying. She felt too good to care. To question that she didn’t.

Finn’s arms were crushingly tight around her, and there was a safeness about his grip on her that was something like being bound in the chains around her waist.

Crazy.

Crazier still when his mouth hovered over hers.

“Roison.”

“Mmm…what?”

“We didn’t fucking negotiate kissing.” His voice was rough, edgy.

“No.”

“You’re saying no?”

“I’m saying yes.”

He paused.

“Finn…kiss me, God damn it!”

“Christ, girl,” he muttered before crushing her mouth with his.

Oh, it was good. His lips were hard and soft at the same time, his big hands wrapping her up in their grasp. She opened for his tongue and it slipped into her mouth like silk. She sucked it in, released it so he could explore. And Lord, the man could kiss. If she hadn’t been wet before, she was soaked now. 
Needing
.

She pulled against the cuffs, wanting to press closer, but his hard body was already tight against hers, and she could feel his erection straining.

Yes, please…

She was going to fucking beg him for it.

He pulled back so suddenly she would have fallen had she not been chained up.

“God bloody damn it, girl.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What? I…Finn?”

“No. You’re fine. You’re fucking amazing, is what you are. I just need to…get back on track. Take a breath. Both of us.” He ran a hand over his spiky hair while she tried to adjust to what had just happened. He was pleased with her—he’d said so. But he was obviously trying to get things under control again.

She didn’t want him to.

Tears burned at the back of her eyes. Tears! When was the last time she’d cried over anything? And never because she wanted a man so badly it hurt.

His expression was torn, his mouth soft and loose. His blue eyes glittered as he narrowed them and took a step back.

Whether he’d meant it literally or not, she pulled in a deep breath, let it out slowly. She had to calm the hell down.

“Good girl,” he said, those two simple words nearly undoing her again. “Breathe it out. Let’s dial it down.”

He released his hold on her and her skin went cold where his hands, strong and full of heat, had been. She took another breath.

This is just play. Play and desire.

But it was something more—oddly more.

Don’t think about it.

Finn placed his palm on her chest, fingers splayed over her thundering heart. “I need to whip you.”

Her pulse jumped.

She wanted it. She loved the whip. And frankly, she wanted whatever he did right now.

She nodded.

Some part of her knew she was completely out of her head. She didn’t care.

He stepped away for a moment. Then he was behind her, his hand stroking her back, her waist, her buttocks. She closed her eyes, gloried in the sensation of skin against skin. And suddenly his big arm was tight around her neck, cutting off some of her air, pulling her head back against his chest.

“Are you ready, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

“Good. Because I think you know I want you so fucking bad it hurts. And I’m going to take some of that raging need out on your lovely hide. Say yes, Roison.”

“Yes. Yes, Sir…”

He leaned in and brushed a warm kiss across her cheek, then she felt nothing but cool air.

She waited, counting her heartbeats.

One, two, three, four, five…

She heard the crack before the leather hit her skin, the intense pain a lovely shock that echoed deep in her body, then shimmered again in waves. She breathed her way through it, riding out the pain until the endorphins kicked in. Somehow she managed not to scream. Then there was the sweet sensation of his hand stroking her skin over the hot welt she felt rising already.

“So pretty, the way you pink up. Although the whip brings more than pink, doesn’t it? I can see it vibrating through you. I love the way you twist beneath the pain. Beautiful. Like a dance. I’ve never seen anyone who moves like you do. Let’s see it again, shall we?”

This time she only counted to two before he struck. Her body moved, trembling, twisting, and it was the second wave that made her yell.

“Ah, God!”

His hand was on her in an instant, somehow soothing the pain away, helping her to surf the wave of lovely chemicals flooding her brain, bringing pleasure with the pain—the intense pleasure that was the cruel, wicked whip.

He stepped back and hit her once more, the tip of the whip burning into her flesh.

She screamed out the pain, and even as the endorphins flooded her, making her legs go out from under her, he was there, his strong arm around her, pressing her back tight against his big body, like a wall of heat behind her.

“God damn it, Finn. God, fucking damn it,” she panted, unable to help herself as pain shook her to the core.

His hand came up and his fingers wrapped around her throat, then slid up to cup her chin.

“Come on, girl. Ride it out,” he whispered to her. “You can handle it. I know you can.”

“Finn!” It came out in a half sob.

“Christ, Roisin.”

He was in front of her then, holding her tight with one arm while somehow with the other he unclipped the carabiners holding the chain around her waist. The weight fell away and she laid her head against his chest while he took her out of the cuffs. The pain was sifting away, being replaced by currents of pleasure that quivered softly in her body, her limbs, making her dizzy with sensation overload and…what else?

“I’ve got you,” he told her. “Brace yourself on my shoulders.”

She did as he asked while he bent to release her ankles from the shackles. They felt like the strongest shoulders in the world. Maybe they were. She knew she wasn’t thinking straight. Didn’t matter. All that mattered was the shock and the pleasure coursing through her body. The way he was taking care of her.

He stood and pulled her body close to his, his face going into her hair. He held her tight enough that she could feel the hard bulge beneath his jeans—wanted it. Needed it. Desperate.

“Finn…”

“Yeah, I feel it. I feel your heart beating between those perfect breasts of yours. The heat coming off you.” He wrapped his big hands around her hips and yanked her in tight against him. “Do you feel how I need you, girl?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

He slid a hand over her thigh, then dipped down between them, his fingers slipping under the edge of her thong and into her wet heat.

“Oh!”

“Christ, girl…you’re so damn wet. Ready. Are you ready?” He pressed another finger inside her and she clenched around him. “Oh, yes you are. But are you 
ready
? Now?”

“Get your hand out of my pussy so I can think…” she muttered.

He chuckled, slid his fingers out and used them to tease her hard clit.

She moaned.

“Is this better? Answer me quick or I might have to fuck you right here.”

“Mmm…yes, better.”

He laughed. “Tell me what that means, Roison.”

“It means if you don’t take me into one of the back rooms and fuck me I might come right
now
.”

He nuzzled her cheek with his. “Oh, I do like you, Roisin.”

“Then fuck me, Sir. Come on.”

He hoisted her over his shoulder like some caveman, and her body went hot and soft all over as he carried through the room. Her hair was in her face, but it didn’t matter. She knew where he was taking her.

When they reached one of the private alcoves he set her down on the high, padded table and pressed down on the space between her breasts hard enough that she knew to stay there, on her back.

Watching him get undressed with desire already simmering at a fever pitch in her system was an erotic experience in itself.

The vest came off first, revealing more muscle, every taut slope and hard surface beautiful to behold. He kicked his way out of his boots and his jeans came next—and she almost cooed in pleasure when she saw he went commando underneath. Then she did gasp softly at the sight of his cock.

Oh, Jesus, save me.

It was huge. Steel-hard and as beautiful as every other muscle in his god-like body. The skin was a pale gold, the head a bit darker, swollen and succulent. He had two large, craggy scars down his left thigh surrounded by heavy tribal tattoo work, another scar over his hip on the same side. She wanted to reach out and smooth her hands over those hurting places. Yet they only made him more impossibly masculine. She wanted to reach out and take that beautiful cock in her mouth just as much, to see if she could manage to swallow it.