To the Edge (Hideaway) (9 page)

‘Sir!’
A
noise that was half-laugh, half-sob exploded from her, and she thought she
might have heard a low chuckle from him.

He
kissed her behind her ear, and put a hand on each hip, stilling her futile
thrusts. Then he slid his hands around to lock in front of her, pulling her
back to feel his erection straining against her. He rested his chin on top of
her head, and kept talking. ‘Once it’s inserted, filling you so deliciously, I’ll
move those tight, gleaming panties back into place to keep you from rejecting
my gift. A cord will snake out of your panties, down to a box between your
feet. On it will be a big red digital readout of how much pressure you’re
exerting on the gauge. The probe will contract as you squeeze down on it, and
expand again to fill you as you relax. The readout will change constantly as it
measures how turned on you are, stimulating you further as the whip kisses your
back.’

‘Yes,
Sir,’ she breathed, losing herself in the dream he wove.

A
few moments later, she felt the impact. It was much harder now, but the pain
barely registered, and she
got it
. She felt purer, more energized, and
she wanted
more
.

‘And
where are we now on the pain scale?’

She
didn’t want to focus; drifting was so much nicer. ‘More. Please, more.’

‘That’s
not what I asked,’ he said.

‘It
doesn’t hurt that much.’

There
was a pause. ‘That last one was pretty hard, sweetheart.’

‘Just
keep going. Please.’

She
heard him approach, and then his hands were on her blindfold, gently working it
up over her eyes. She squinted in the sudden brightness of the room. His thumbs
opened each eye in turn wide open. She tried to pull back.

A
dent appeared above his right eyebrow. ‘Stop.’

His
intense brown eyes scrutinized her. He pressed two fingers to the pulse point
on her neck. She could see his muscles flexing, the sheen of sweat on his face
and chest.

‘All
the way,’ she said. ‘I want to go all the way. I want to feel
everything.
’

He
put a hand behind her head, and kissed her crown. ‘I know you do, and I know
those endorphins are working for you, sweetheart, but I have to warn you; any
harder than that last one, and I’m going to be drawing blood; maybe even
scarring you. Is that what you want?’

‘I
just want it harder. I want to find my edge, and we’re not there yet, Sir.’

He
nodded slowly. ‘All right. But remember, I’m relying on you to safeword the
second you find that sweet spot between
not enough
and
too much
.

‘Yes,
Sir.’

‘Are
you feeling ill in any way?’

‘No,
Sir. I feel good. I feel alive.’

He
gave her a long look, and replaced the blindfold. His warm hand massaged the
back of her neck. ‘There are other things we can do to make you feel alive.’

‘You’re
the only person I feel safe enough to do this with, Sir.’

After
a beat, he spoke, his voice warm and sincere. ‘Thank you, Sam. It’s a privilege
to do this with you.’

‘Do
what you need to do, Sir,’ she said.

‘In
that case, brace yourself, because those happy endorphins are
not
going
to be enough from now on.’

He
was right.

The
whip had laid five or six trails of divine fire across her shoulder blades when
she finally gasped out her safeword.

She
heard the whip thud to the floor, and seconds later, his hands were on her
ankle cuffs. He pressed himself firmly against her back, trapping her between
his body and the cross. He pushed his leg between hers. She understood why as
soon as her hands were free; her legs had turned to jelly, and she’d have gone
straight to the floor if he hadn’t been right there to hold her up.

She
swallowed a noise of pain, and clutched at him as he lifted her off her feet.

‘Sorry,
sweetheart. Just a second, hold on.’

He
carried her swiftly through the doorway, into the bedroom, past the bed, and
through the door to the medical room beyond.

*

She
lay naked and groggy, face down on the paper-covered examination table. The
lights were warm on her back as he checked her vitals and gently cleaned her
up.

‘You
need a few stitches, sweetheart. I could take you to the medical center, but
they’d ask a hell of a lot of questions I doubt you’d feel comfortable
answering.’

‘Can
you do it?’ she said.

‘I
can, if you give me permission.’

‘Please
do.’

He
did. The shot didn’t hurt much, and the lingering euphoria helped her to tune
out the slight tugging of the thread.

‘With
a little luck there should be minimal scarring,’ he said. ‘Consider these marks
a badge of honor; you were brave enough to go right to the edge. Many people
are not.’

She
flushed with pleasure at his praise.

He
smoothed antibiotic cream all over her back, ignoring her hissing and
squirming. ‘Just a couple of dressings now,’ he said, fixing them in place.
Apart from a couple of the deeper cuts, most of these marks should fade in a
day or two.

‘I
don’t mind how long it takes. I love having your marks on me.’

‘Oh
you do, huh?’ He sounded pleased.

‘Yes,
Sir.’

‘I’ll
bear that in mind, sweetheart.’

When
he was done, she began to push herself up, but his hand came down on the back
of her neck, sending a thrill up her spine.

‘I
didn’t say you could get up.’ He went to the counter and took something out of
a drawer. Then she heard a cap pop open. ‘Let’s take your temperature. Be a
good subbie and stay still for me.’

‘Aren’t
I
always
good for you, Sir?’ she said.

He
gave a wry huff as he shook down the thermometer, but his words were loving.
‘Yes, Samantha. You’re always good for me.’

She
heaved a sigh of contentment as he parted her buttocks and slid the cool, wet
instrument deep inside, enjoying her bravery in retrospect, and feeling utterly
cared for.

His
hand cupped her bottom, making sure she didn’t attempt to rid herself of the
thermometer.

Rain
still pelted the window. It was quiet, and almost cozy in the little room,
lying there with her Dom taking care of her.

He
ran his fingers through her hair. ‘I’m so proud of you, Sammy. You took your
punishment perfectly. You were brave, and strong, and well-mannered throughout
your spanking and your whipping, none of which was in any way an easy thing to
do. You took full advantage of the whipping to explore your feelings and find
that sweet spot that lies at your edge. And you’ve been a perfect patient, even
though getting stitches obviously isn’t something you enjoy.’

Happiness
overwhelmed her, and she burst into tears. Shit. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m happy
to have pleased you, and made you proud. I got what I wanted; I don’t know
what’s wrong with me.’

‘Nothing’s
wrong with you,’ he growled, affectionately. ‘It’s a release of tension, that’s
all.’ Slowly, he pulled the thermometer from her bottom. ‘Your temperature’s
almost back down to normal. Let’s get you to bed.’

He
helped her off the table, and back into the bedroom. Her body ached in a
thousand places, and there was a burning simmering under the surface of the
painkillers. Still, she wasn’t done. While he went to turn down the covers, she
got on her hands hand knees on the bed.

He
stopped. ‘What do think you’re doing?’

‘Please
fuck me, Sir. I need it, and I can see you do, too.’

‘Sammy,
you’re injured.’

‘I’m
all right, Sir. Please put your cock in me.’

He
shot her a warning look. ‘Since when do you tell me when to fuck you?’

Goosebumps
ran up her back and down her arms. ‘I’m sorry, Sir.’

He
nodded. ‘Not like this. Face to face. Can you lie on your side without too much
pain?’

She
stretched out, and slowly moved onto her left side. ‘That’s okay, Sir.’

He
unbuttoned his pants, and slowly worked them down over his erection. Sam licked
her lips. She could almost feel him sliding in…

‘Hey!’

She
jumped. ‘Sir?’

‘I’m
up here.’

She
grinned. ‘Sorry, Sir.’

‘You
like looking at my cock.’

‘Yes,
Sir. It’s beautiful. I want to admire it, to play with it, to suckle from it,
to feel it in my mouth, and between my legs, and being forced up my ass.’ Going
by his cock’s reaction, it wanted that too, and soon.

And
she wanted
him
; his strength, his affection and dominance and
protectiveness. She wanted to feel the way she did now not just tonight, but
every day; over breakfast, and in the evenings when they both were exhausted.
And the weekends.
Oh, the weekends.

‘What
you’re thinking about? We’re going to talk about that next week,’ he said.

Her
stomach lurched. Why did love and terror have to go hand in hand? ‘Yes, Sir.’

He
smiled. ‘Yes, Sir, is right.’ He opened the drawer in the bedside cabinet and
took out a foil packet.

The
condom was jet black, making his straining erection appear even more
formidable. Her eyes widened at the sight. He smiled, took a tube of lubricant
from the drawer, and seconds later, his cock was gleaming. She moaned in
anticipation, and he laughed.

‘No
more pain,’ he said, settling himself down beside her. ‘Just pleasure now,
sweetheart. Nice and easy.’

He
lifted her right leg over his hip. ‘Straddle me.’

They
rolled until she was on top of him. She put her hands on his chest and pushed
herself up, pausing to feel the cool, wet head of his penis nudging at her.

‘Take
the tip; just the tip,’ he said, lubing his middle finger.

She
brought herself down by increments until the blunt head stretched her open and
popped inside. He propped himself up with one hand, while the other pushed
between their bodies, and probed her anus.

She
gasped. ‘Sir, if you do that…’

He
didn’t stop right away. ‘Take a little more,’ he said, roughly.

As
she lowered herself further down his shaft, his finger pushed deeper, and began
to move.

She
lost it. She pitched forward onto him, and thrust her hips against him in a
frenzy, taking his whole cock, only to pull back and slam back down against him.
Her wild, demanding noises filled the room, and he was only to ready to satisfy
her need. In seconds, he had her on her side, utterly overpowered as he screwed
his penis way up inside her, and made her scream as the orgasm took her.

He
pushed deep and held still for a moment, and she knew the first hot spurts were
filling the condom deep inside her, then he was pistoning in and out again and
again, his arms wrapped around her so that she couldn’t roll onto her injuries
while he took his pleasure.

She
buried her head in his shoulder, and smiled.

*

She
must have changed clothes four times before the doorbell rang. It was just a
day at the beach, she told herself. He was most likely going to be wearing
shorts and a t-shirt. She needn’t have agonized, because when she opened the
door, a beaming smile lit up his features and his eyes hadn’t even dipped past
her neck. He looked… excited. In a way she hadn’t seen before. And it delighted
her.

‘Ready?’
he said, cupping the back of her head, pulling her in, kissing her.

‘Yes,’
she said, more certain of this than she’d been of anything in a very long time.
‘Yes, I’m ready.’

This
was going to be good.