“Good girl,” he purrs. “Now lean over the baseboard of the bed.”
I do exactly as he says, when in one swift motion, he links something around my wrists, cuffing me to the post. Tugging slightly, the pressure cuts against my skin. He cuffs the other as well until I’m unable to move my arms, stretched out for him.
Exposed.
He presses the front of his body against my backside. “You were a naughty girl this morning, Sasha,” he whispers against my ear. “Although you’ve tried to make up for your bad behavior by cleaning my house and cooking me dinner, I’m still unhappy with you. Do you have something to say to me?”
“I’m sorry, Master. That was wrong of me.”
“It was.”
“I’m sorry,” I softly repeat.
He releases a small breath. “You’re forgiven.”
Turning to sneak a glimpse of him, he pulls his shirt over his head, exposing his masculine body. I can’t help but feel the wetness pool between my thighs as I watch him feverishly, eagerly. Once he catches me staring, I quickly look away.
“You still need to be taught a lesson.” His warm, bare chest presses against my back. “Are you ready to be fucked hard?”
“Yes, Master.”
He spreads my legs apart with one fast movement of his foot. Looking down, I watch in suspense as he fastens the shackles of the long, metal bar around my ankles, ensuring my legs remain spread wide open for him. I can’t be any more exposed than this.
As much as I hate to admit it to myself, I want him. I want to feel him inside me. I want him to destroy me in every possible way. My body is pleading for him, desperate for every inch of him.
His hands slowly trail up my legs, inner thighs, and stop once they reach my sex.
“Well,” he groans. “It feels like someone wants to be punished.”
“No,” I quietly say. “That’s not why I’m wet.”
“Did that sound like a question to you, pet?”
That word.
The word pet once turned me off, and left me with an indescribable feeling of doubt and disgust. Once upon a time.
Now, it means nothing to me.
“No, it didn’t. I’m sorry, Master.”
“Have you ever been flogged before, Sasha?”
Shaking my head, my heart races at the thought. “No, Master.”
“There’s a first for everything.” He lightly caresses my back, suddenly tying a ponytail around my hair, pulling it out of the way. “Bend over and stick that beautiful ass out for me.”
My body tenses, and my endorphins already begin to flow at the thought of what he’s going to do to me. My breathing becomes shallow.
My thighs are wet, and I am pleading to be fucked into oblivion. Suddenly, the light disappears, cutting out entirely as he secures the blindfold over my eyes.
Without hesitation, I obey, leaning forward.
“Good girl.”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
My heart rate quickens, skipping several beats, thumping so wildly it’s as if I’ve just run a marathon. My conscience diminishes, and anxiety sets in. The lack of motion in my body leaves me as still as a stone.
