Uncertain.
Leaning forward, Itryto kiss him, but he moveshis head back.“Do you want to stop the scene?”he asks.
I pause, not sure which one I want more – the gentleness orthe punishment.The formerisamazing, but itfeelsoff… distant.Like he’srestraining himselfin orderto give me what I want.But the latter… the latterfeelslike him.
Him giving us a second chance.
Him working through the emotions heisdealing with.
Itfeelslike a building of trust.Of a future.
Taking a deep breath, I lift my chinand hold his gaze.“Green,” Isaystrongly before sticking out my tongue.
A slow grin curveshis lips.
Cupping my face with both hands, hetakesmy tongue in his mouth and sucksjust hard enough to cause a bit of pain.But itisn’tas sharp as itwasbefore.Shuddering beneath him, I nod when he pullsback to look at me.
After a second of silence, he removesmy legs from around his waist and stepsback.“Tell me what you’re being punished for,” he demands, an edge to his voice thatmakesme shiver.
“For breaking your trust.”
“And will you break it again?”Bending down, my king picksup the belt he dropped.
“No.”
The sharp bite of theleatherslappingagainst my thigh hasme jerking against the binds.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He hitsme again, this time onmy other leg.“Are you lying?”
“No.”
Holding my gaze, he wrapsthe belt around his fist.The buckleends uponthe back ofhis knuckles.
My pulse spikes.Swallowing, Itry notto tremble.When he raiseshis hand, I flinch butdon’tcower, wanting to take the pain.Needing to take it.Because as much as heclaimsIdon’tdeserve a beating, Ifeelas if I do.I hurt him.Almost killed him.Ihaveto pay for that.
But his handcomesdown softly on my cheek.The cold touch of metal scrapesagainst my skin but not enough to bite.He trailsit down my neck.It’sonly when hegetsto my breasts that hedigsthe prong in deep enough to scratch.
When I jerk from the sting, he grabsmy breast painfully.“Colour?”hedemands.
I close my eyes, trying to sort through my feelings.The previous fear.The current excitement.The want and need to trust him.No, not the want, I realise.I already trust him.I trust him not to hurt me.
Opening my eyes, I look into the searching gaze of his own.“Green,” Isaysoftly.
His facefillswith emotions thatleaveme breathless.With raw need, shock, and awe in his eyes, my king leansforward to peck my lips.Then he dropshisgazeandsays, “Don’t move.”
Fistingthe silk holding me up, I clench my jaw andtrytoobey.Hecarvesabloody curve into my skin, and my breathcatcheswhen I realise he’sdrawingan R.
An M followsit.
Richard Morningstar.
My bodyishis.
“Tell me who owns these tits.”
