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My clit throbs at that. He fingers me slowly, then pulls free, painting my ass with the wetness clinging to them.
The word beat should scare me. It doesn’t. He might bring pain, but he’s not going to injure me.
“You have your words, Karlee?”
I nod.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, Tizio, yes.”
“Sweet Karlee.” It’s almost a croon, and I’m both thrilled and nervous. He strokes my cheek, sliding down to my mouth as he dips in.
His other hand lifts, and the sound of a clink of metal followed by the soft slither of leather lights up the air and taunts my senses.
“I think, pretty Karlee, you need to learn your fucking place.”
He moves his hand, and the leather snaps. The air from that breathes over me, and then . . .
“Oh my God! Ow!” He brings it down hard on my ass.
“Words?”
“Green.”
He sighs, his erection getting harder under me.
Tizio repeatedly brings it down, crisscrossing the leather’s bite on me, checking my word every time.
I’m crying, my ass is a haze of heat and pain, and I’m even wetter than before. Getting the word green out is hard, but I perversely want this, I need it. I’m flying so high in it because it’s freedom, power in giving over to him. After all, I can take his pleasure from him with just one word.
But I’d be taking mine too.
He starts a litany of nasty words raining down on me, and he tells me how fucking gorgeous my ass looks. How I’m wet from this, how I’m a bad girl, and I’ll need more lessons in etiquette and behavior.
He tells me I’m making him do this, that I’ve pushed him. He tells me how good I am, how pretty, how soft and sweet my skin is, how he can’t help himself, and he needs everything I’ve got to offer.
When he brings it down one last time, he shoves his fingers into me, and I cry out, coming hard. My entire being swept into the pleasure and wildness of the moment.
I yearn for the praise he gives me. I want to be the worst for the pleasure of his punishment, and most of all, I’m desperate to be fucked. I need that big cock. It’s like needing air, and even through the rolling waves of insane ecstasy, I want more.
“On your knees.” He pushes me from him, grabbing my hair as he frees himself, and I take him in deep. “No fucking hands, Karlee.”
He fucks my face hard. There’s no other way to say it. He takes from me, hitting my throat, setting me gagging, and he revels in it. He comes down my throat, and I swallow it all. Then he hauls me up and tosses me from the bed, strips me down, and pushes me so he’s pressing my ass into the bedding, and it hurts. I’m on fire.
“Part your thighs, Karlee, and take everything.” He comes over me, hands on either side of my head. “And there areno colors in this. I’m in control. Not you. Me. What I want happens.”
“But . . . Sir?—”
“Close that gorgeous mouth and take it.” He kisses my ear. “Fucking loved it when you just called me Sir, Karlee.”
Then he’s gone. But he doesn’t fuck me. He goes down between my thighs and puts his mouth on me.
His tongue slides up along my outer lips, and then as I moan and buck, he tastes the inner ones. Then he licks me all along my slit, up to my clit, and he takes that into his mouth, sucking and licking. Over and over until I’m screaming, until I’m yelling red at him.
He’s fucking true to his word. As the first orgasm hits me from his mouth alone, he ignores me, holding me down as I try to get away as the pleasure shifts into too much, and then I flower open again, and this time, he uses his fingers.
He works me in a rhythm that doesn’t vary, hooking his fingers to play my G-spot as he sucks my clit.
