Page 9 of A New Year's Toy
“I need…”
The words are strained, each intake of breath more painful than the previous one. The throbbing in my clit, the rising orgasm threaten to swallow me inside out.
“What you need is to be good.”
“No,” I whimper, sucking in my lips.
“Yes.”
Eventually, the primal, uncontainable desire prevails between the both of us. The climax that slashes me in half starts where the wand keeps vibrating, up my navel, my sternum, my throat. Groaning, grunting, and moaning, I thrash my head to where Alistair is supposed to be, looking for him.
I find him, his hand holding my arms and leg, flipping me to my side.
CHAPTER FOUR
Nola
Smack.
He starts with the leather side of the paddle. This isn’t his usual cruel strike, given the state my ass is in, but fuck, does it hurt.
“You’re warmed up now,” he clarifies why he didn’t use the fur side to begin with. Why he doesn’t hit me with it the second time the paddle flags my flesh. “And you’ve disobeyed me. This guarantees you won’t do it again today.”
My swollen center hasn’t had a moment to recuperate. Alistair left the wand on, buzzing in the air between us. A whisper in the wind saying come, come, come.
Alistair angles the paddle so it’s perpendicular to my body. He dips the edge to the stripe where my butt cheeks meet, sliding it up and down. It chafes and arouses me in a magical, torturous combination, a blast of cold and hot water jets all at once.
Insanely confusing, remarkably awakening.
“No.” He yanks it up when my ass clenches around it, the moment my body nearly goes against Alistair’s orders and readies itself for another torment of an orgasm.
Five smacks follow. For a slim, lucid second, I wonder if the room is soundproofed or if the flight crew can hear us. On Alistair’s sixth strike, I decide I don’t care.
Alistair isn’t bothered by it, either.
He shifts me around on my back, straddling my locked legs.
“You think you learned?” He trails the hot paddle to my breast, slapping it tenderly with the fur side. “Can I trust you to be well-behaved when I’m busy fucking your mouth?”
“Yes,” I grunt, squeezing my legs tight, commanding my focus off the wand and on the man who owns my heart, body, and soul.
“Yes, what?” Alistair tosses the paddle, advancing up on my body. His cock grazes my skin. It’s slick with my arousal, my sweat, and soon with my spit.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Correct.” He caresses my face, kissing my forehead in one of his unnatural, kind gestures before he looks deep into my eyes. “I’m checking in. How are your wrists? Your arms?”
His love doesn’t break the scene for me; it enhances it. His caring side doesn’t take away his sadistic side, simply makes him that much more my king.
“I’m okay,” I blurt out, then swallow down another orgasm.
He smirks, reverting to the punishing man he is during scenes.
Alistair’s lips are in my ear, his massive cock grinding on my belly. “Tell me what you want.”
It’s really fucking hard to concentrate while trying to control the uncontrollable, but I do. Because he asked me to. “Fuck my mouth, please.”
“You want that, don’t you?” His bite in my ear is swift and agonizing. I shriek. “Want to be filthy for me. Want to make me come.”
