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I didn’t actually have any idea what was going to happen. Reward could mean anything. And with him holding a riding crop in his right hand, I wasn’t sure about his actions at all.
I impatiently waited for him to start doing something. For a long moment, he was just staring at my naked body on the bed. I could feel his heated gaze everywhere. I didn’t want to move a muscle or even breathe, because I didn’t want to interrupt him from memorising me. Clearly, he liked what he saw, and my heart was happily dancing in my chest.
When he suddenly raised his hand with a riding crop, I winced a little. Not because I was afraid that he would hurt me; I just didn’t expect him to move so abruptly.
"I’m sorry, princess," he apologised with a grin. "I didn’t mean to scare you."
He put his large hand on my cheek, and I leaned into his warm palm. I wanted him so much it almost hurt, but at the same time, I was frozen under his gaze. The only thing I could do was to give him a pleading look, but he didn’t seem to care about my lack of patience. Or maybe he was provoking me into doing something he could punish me for.
He still stroked my face with his fingers when I felt the tip of the crop on my chest. It was pleasantly cold on my heated skin. He moved it slowly to one of my nipples, playing with it for a few seconds, and then he continued to another one.
My breath quickened a little when he grazed it down my abdomen and between my legs. At the same time, he put his hand on my ass, massaging it. While he gently touched my clit with the crop, he took my erect nipple between his fingers, pinching it slightly. I moaned, closing my eyes from the pleasure that small act of violence had brought me.
Tortuously slowly, he moved the crop up and down between my legs. Twice, he pushed it against my wet entrance into my throbbing hole, and I moved my legs together. He warned me that if I did it one more time, he’d whip my inner thighs. With that said, I was holding my legs open, not daring to press them together again.
For the whole time he was teasing me, I softly moaned, my skin tingling under his touch, and I almost begged him to fuck me. Yet, I held on to my words about understanding what disobedience meant.
Just in time, when I was starting to feel absolutely desperate for skin-to-skin contact, he leaned closer to my chest, licking my hardened nipple. I almost screamed in pleasure when he took it into his mouth and, with his other hand, he played with another one. I didn’t notice where the crop was, and I didn’t care. The sudden attention he was giving to my breasts was enough for me to forget about that disciplinary instrument.
I felt his mouth, his tongue, and his teeth everywhere. He moved down my chest, licking his way along my stomach and lower abdomen to my soaking wet pussy. I was dripping with need. I trembled in anticipation when he kissed and licked my mound, moving lower between my legs. I pushed my hips slightly against him, and he chuckled, breaking the contact with my skin.
"So eager," he mumbled, taking the crop from the bed. He roughly put it back on my clit, and I cried out because intense pleasure filled my body. He didn’t hit me, but the pressure was enough for me to feel as waves of excitement travelled through me. Instinctively, I pressed my thighs together, and I immediately realised my mistake.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk." The sound sent shivers down my spine, and I gulped. "What did I tell you about your legs, princess?" Mr Thorn asked sweetly, which was even scarier than his shouting.
"That I’ll be punished if I press them together one more time," I breathed my response, and he nodded.
I was panting, intently watching him as he stood up next to my hips. I expected him to hit my inner thigh, as he’d promised, but instead, he whipped my throbbing clit.
I whimpered when he did it again, and a small smirk, which he failed to hide, was proof that he knew what my reaction would be. And I wanted more.
"Please," I begged quietly, and he raised his eyebrows.
"Please, what?" he asked with the crop, moistened in my juices, on my thigh.
"Please, sir," I pleaded, fisting the cushion under my head with my tied hands.
"You must say what you want," he explained, clearly mocking me.
"Please hit me again, sir," I whined desperately, and he put the instrument back on my sensitive clit.
"That was quick, princess," he purred, delighted with my plea. "Do you like it so much?"
"Yes, sir," I breathed, and he gave me what I asked for. It was amazing. The first feeling of stinging pain was replaced by a pleasure that travelled from my swollen bud into every nerve.
"Please, sir, hit me again," I repeated, and immediately, another stroke came, harder than the one before. I asked for three more, and he gifted me with amazing, perfectly aimed hits.
"Oh, God!" I screamed while Mr Thorn inserted one of his fingers inside my pussy. I moaned, and my inner walls literally sucked him in.
"All wet for me," he whispered under his breath while I was a panting mess. I so wanted him to fuck me hard. But instead, he knelt between my legs and tasted me. I was on the edge of sanity and badly needed a release. Yet, every time I was almost there, he stopped. It was like he was doing it on purpose.
"Sir, please," I whined, desperately wriggling my hips. "Let me come, Mr Thorn, please." Begging was the only thing that came to my dizzy mind that could actually help me reach my climax.
I felt his mouth on my wet entrance, and I cried out. He put his huge hands on my inner thighs, pushing them down, and buried his tongue deeper inside me. It was an otherworldly sensation, feeling as he moved it inside.
I groaned and moaned, and I probably looked like a demon was exercising out of my body, but I didn’t care. It felt so good, amazing, actually. The pressure in my lower abdomen was unbearable. My clit was pulsating, and my hole, with his tongue still inside, was clenching. I couldn’t help but scream and wail. I wanted to scratch the wall with my nails, and at the same time, I needed a hard pounding into my horny opening.
It was like he heard my thoughts. He replaced his mouth with his fingers and a high-pitched "Fuck!" escaped my dry mouth.
