“Please,” I begged, as shame burned through me even as the word left my lips. “Please, Nano, I need.”
“I know what you need.” His hand stroked down my spine, almost gentle. “But what you need and what you get are twodifferent things right now. That’s the lesson, Alexandra. You don’t get what you want anymore. You get what I decide to give you.”
I felt him shift on the bed, and then something cool and smooth pressed against my entrance. Not his fingers. Something else.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked.
I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
“It’s a vibrator. Small one. I’m going to put it inside you and turn it on. And you’re going to feel it buzzing against all those sensitive spots while I work on you with my mouth. And you’restill notgoing to come. Because I won’t let you. Understand?”
“I can’t—” I started, but he cut me off.
“You will. Because you don’t have a choice.”
He pushed the vibrator inside me, and I felt it settle deep, pressing against my walls.
Then he turned it on. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. The vibrations pulsed through me and made my muscles clench and my breath hitch. His mouth was on my clit again, sucking and licking while the vibrator buzzed inside me, and I felt myself spiral toward an orgasm with terrifying speed.
“Don’t you dare,” he warned, his voice muffled against me. “Don’t you dare fucking come.”
I was trying. God, I was trying. But my body didn’t care about his commands, didn’t care about the consequences. It just wanted release, needed it with a desperation that bordered on pain. The pressure built and built, coiling tighter in my core, and I could feel myself losing control.
He pulled back.
Turned off the vibrator.
Left me gasping and shaking, and so close to the edge I could taste it as tears streamed down my face, soaking into the sheets.My entire body trembled, caught between need and frustration and a desperation so profound it felt like drowning.
“Please,” I sobbed. “Please, I can’t. I need.”
His hand stroked my ass soothingly. “I know what you need. But you’re not going to get it.”
I heard him pick up the paddle.
“Ten strikes,” he said. The first strike landed on my right ass cheek, and the sting was sharp and immediate. But underneath the pain was something else. A jolt of pleasure that shot straight to my clit and made me gasp.
“Count them,” he ordered.
“One,” I choked out.
The second strike landed on my left cheek, harder this time, and the combination of pain and pleasure made my hips jerk against the restraints. The arousal started to build again, impossibly, unbearably.
“Two.”
He alternated sides, each strike precise and measured, and with each one I felt myself getting wetter, more desperate, closer to that edge I wasn’t allowed to cross.
“Three. Four. Five.”
My ass burned now, my skin hot and sensitized, and every strike sent shockwaves of sensation through my body that pooled between my legs. I was so close, teetering on the edge, as my body screamed for release.
“Six. Seven.”
I was crying openly now, my voice breaking on the numbers, my body shaking with the effort of holding back the orgasm that was threatening to tear through me. But more than that, I shook with the knowledge that even if I let go, even if I came without permission, it wouldn’t matter because he would stop. He would pull away. He would leave me incomplete.
“Eight. Nine.”
“Last one,” he said, and his hand stroked over my burning ass almost tenderly.
