“You won’t be able to sit down for a week,” he chuckles as he slices across my arse again.
I fight my body’s natural instinct to tremble, imagining my legs locked in place and concentrating on the licks of pain in the wake of each swipe of the scalpel’s blade.
“You still with me, Red?” he asks, drool running down my chin around the spoon, my jaw aching as I bite down in fear that I might drop it before he can finish his branding.
I nod frantically; it’s impossible to anticipate what he’ll do next—his fist around my plait tugs as pain prickles on my scalp, his elbow centred on my back to hold me steady—then more delicate cuts are made into my skin. Not knowing what he is writing, I have no idea when it will end. He could be listing all the ways he wants to punish me, and I wouldn’t argue; I may even have a couple of ideas of my own to add. I try to talk around the spoon between my teeth, but all that I can make are intelligible whines and pleas for him to continue. Blood pumping, shoulders tight, spine tingling, my arse almost numb, the pain of each tentative slice warming and oddly comforting.
“How beautifully your skin reddens under my attention.” He said he wanted to mark me, to claim me as his, and now I’m giving him that.
Little does he know, I think I need this just as much as he does.
Sliding my lacy thong aside, the rough material grazing the fresh cuts he’s made and making me wince, my hips buck against the table. Swiping his fingers through my folds, he inhales a sharp breath. “So wet for me. Such a good girl.”
When he removes his fingers, a whimper crawls up my throat, and I push my arse back to chase the sensation of his touch, desperate for the release he promised me last night. I have spent the last twenty-four hours after being so callously edged to near detonation, and then refused a moment with my vibrator this morning, wondering what Ezra Wolfe’s cock would feel like buried to the hilt inside me—and if he makes me wait much longer, I might just climb out of my skin and torch this building to the ground.
Dramatic? Yes. Horny to the point of committing arson in frustration? Also yes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EZRA
Itrail my finger up her spine as though I’m counting each knot of bone I find, goosebumps rising on her flesh the higher I get towards the nape of her neck. My cock is painfully hard in my trousers, and because teasing her might be my new favourite thing, I rub myself against her aching centre. Much to my delight, she moans around the spoon between her lips. I don’t want her to drop it, there’s no part of me that wants this to end, but punishing her again wouldn’t be a bad thing. I get the feeling my little Red would like it.
“What a helpless little bunny, at the mercy of the wolf. I imagine every curve of this body wrapped in rope.” I ponder the thought, revelling in the shudder of interest that has her writhing against the table. She’d submit beautifully, I just know it. “You like that idea, sweetheart? Well, I aim to please. I’ll make a mental note to stock up on restraints.”
“Please,” she begs, her teeth clanking against the metal as she tightens her grip of it.
Winding my hand around the length of her braid, I give it a tug, eliciting a whimper to fall from her lips as she pushes her arse back into me, searching for the friction she so sorely needs to get herself off.
I untie the fastening on my trousers, freeing my length and palming it, squeezing the head and swiping my thumb over the precum already glistening on the tip as I imagine how tight and warm it’s going to feel when I finally lose myself inside her. Hard and standing to attention, I drop my cock and move aside her thong, tugging on her braid again so she is pressed up against my chest, my erection snugly settled between her thighs. With her head tipped back, the moment she catches my gaze in the cracked mirror on the far wall in front of us, a squeak of surprise fills the room.
I lower my face, warm breath ghosting over the hollow of her throat, my gaze unwavering as she shivers when I whisper, “How beautiful is my plaything all trussed up and at my mercy?” The question was rhetorical because before another second can pass us by, I angle the head of my cock at her entrance and thrust up inside Cara’s dripping heat to the hilt.
A jolting tremble rockets through her body as she pants out a strangled breath, the vibrations travelling through me as I tighten my grip on her hip to hold her against my chest. She’s stuffed full, and I know she’s aching as her body struggles to accept me, but I just couldn’t help myself.
She relaxes a little in my hold, her walls squeezing me with less ferocity as her pussy welcomes the intrusion, her eyes glittering, silently begging me to give her what she needs.
Pinching her clit, her greedy pussy clamps down around my cock with such force, strangling it as she tries to buck her hips, her body desperate for me to start moving. But the angle I’m holding her at means I make the rules here.
“So full,” she mumbles, a mixture of panic and desire making her splutter out heavy pants of air.
“Oh, sweetheart, being stuffed full is the least of your worries.” I grin devilishly at her reflection, lowering my face to whisper in her ear, “Wait until I start moving; the piercings arefor your pleasure.” I watch avidly as her eyes widen, rolling into the back of her head when I pull out to the tip slowly, each barbell decorating the underside of my dick massaging her g-spot as I go. I slam forward again, rolling my hips as I fill her at a frantic pace, her body accepting me as I work her pleasure up into a frenzy. I tuck my face into her neck, inhaling her sweet lavender and honeyed almond scent, the natural heavenly musk of her arousal adding another layer to the intoxicating aroma.
Her chest heaves. Her mewling cries and lust-soaked whimpers are music to my ears as I work her up.
I bite down on her shoulder, welcoming the tinny taste of her blood as I break the skin and mark her again.
“Ezra,” her garbled whine of my name spurs me on as I reach around and toy with her clit, my cock buried inside her slickness as I rub teasing circles with my thumb.
“So…fucking…tight.” I struggle to get the words out as she clamps down around me, silently cursing myself for being so damn close to coming buried inside her as my hips buck. That earns me another squeeze of her walls, and I all but lose my mind as I rut relentlessly. Her body convulses as she takes me so well. Her lust-laden groan dies on a harsh exhale, her body jerking. She’s not done just yet though. I don’t give her a chance to catch her breath, aching for her release as I claim her. The sound of skin slapping as our bodies meet, her desperate whimpers and the animalistic grunts barrelling out of my mouth are almost too loud to be contained in such a small space.
“Please,” she cries out. I’m lost to how utterly consuming it feels to have her wrapped around me so tightly, pleading with me for more. That spark of heat at the base of my spine signals the rise of my own release.
Moaning, I roll my shoulders, muscles taut as I lose myself to fucking her good and proper like she deserves. The need toruin her for all others is too strong to ignore as my hips piston forward.
“You-feel-so-fucking-good-sweetheart,” I bite out, every punched word tagged onto the end of each punishing thrust of my hips. My cock swells as her walls contract around me, her body ready to detonate with the orgasm that I can feel building inside her. Pinching her clit between my fingers, I press the heel of my hand into her lower belly to add intensity to what she’s feeling.“Come for me,” I growl out, and I can feel the moment the wave of euphoria washes over her, my order to let go the last line of defence as her walls drop and she crashes headfirst into the abyss.
She sobs through it, a beautiful melding of pain and pleasure like a war cry expelled from her lungs.
