And it didn’t stop. Whatever it was, the agony was sustained and unrelenting.
It took her a moment to lift her head to see the damned snakebite suction pump — and not just any run-of-the-mill kind. No, he’d gone all out for the double-chamber model.Fuck.
He did the same to her left nipple, and once again, the pressure was immediate and vicious, drawing the sensitive flesh deep into the bulb.
Chapter 27
She thought he was through when he moved out of sight, but then she felt his hands spreading her legs, and the motherfucker sucked her clit into another snakebite device.
She damned near screamed, but managed to hold it in. No way to keep her breathing quiet, but he’d specifically said no vocalizations, so hopefully she wasn’t breaking his rules.
But on top of gasping for air, her hips involuntarilyjerked, trying to rid her of the pain on her clit, and that only made the ropes pull and torque, sending fresh fire through her shoulders and back.
She bit her lip hard to keep from involuntarily vocalizing her pain.
He didn’t walk away. Just stood and watched her, his hand still on her left thigh. She tried to bring her breathing under control, and eventually, it slowed a little. Wasn’tso frantic.
But fuck, her nipples and clit were stillscreamingwhile the damned suction pulled everything to the surface — raw nerve endings, heated blood, and no telling what else.
Eventually, he walked to the wall, lifted her back where she’d been before, and then made his way to his bed. She heard him undress, the sheets rustle, the mattress shift under his weight. Long minutes later, his breathing slowed and deepened into the steady rhythm of sleep.
She hung there, nipples and clit throbbing under the relentless suction, body aching from the pose, mind spinning with the knowledge that he was rightthere, asleep, while she suffered for him.
The suction was cruel at first — tight, pulling, making her flesh swell and ache. Over time, it eased slightly as her body adjusted, but the ache never fully left. Every so often she’d shift, trying to find relief, and the ropes would remind her there was none.
She lost track of time. The moon moved. She heard two owls in the distance.
He woke maybe two hours later. She heard him pad across the hardwood, and then the floor came closer once again.
When she was lowered, he stepped in close and — without saying a word — yanked the suction bulbs off both nipples at the same time.
He squeezed her nipples hard, twisting them between thumb and forefinger, the pinch turning into a deep, burning ache that arrowed straight to her core. His fingers were likesteel, working and manipulating them cruelly, and she barely managed not to cry out.
And then he was at her clit, standing between her thighs to hold them apart, and he twisted the suction device off before squeezing the raw, inflamed nub. He smacked it a half dozen times and then went back to squeezing. He pulled on it, stretched it, smacked it some more. Her hips jerked in her bondage, desperate, and she locked her mouth closed hard with the effort of not screaming. A thin, bitten-off whine crawled up her chest, but she choked it down, teeth grinding together, her whole body straining to keep anything from spilling out.
He squeezed her clit more before he put the suction device back on, wrenching a strangled gasp out of her.
Back to her nipples, where he squeezed and twisted a little more before reapplying the devices.
And then he returned to the wall, lifted her into the air again, and climbed back into bed like nothing had happened.
She gasped air in and out, over and over, her ribs opening and closing, making her sway upside down in the ropes. Tears flowed from her eyes, over her forehead, and into her hair. Every nerve in her clit was alive and awake, and she couldn’t help but pump her hips, making the ropes on her thighs and waist rub and chafe.
Her nipples were on fire, and she was afraid if she started crying, she’d make vocal sounds, so she desperately tried to just breathe through the constant throbbing pressure and blazing heat on her most sensitive parts.
He checked on her twice more during the night. Each time the pattern was the same: remove the bulbs, tormenther swollen nipples and clit, reapply the suction. Each time, she had to fight not to moan or whimper. Each time, the pain woke already raw nerve endings up all over again, reminding her exactly who she belonged to in these ropes.
And in between, she dozed on and off. She watched the moon. Listened to the owls, to the coyotes in the distance. Tried not to pump her hips.
The last check came when the moon was headed toward the horizon but the sun hadn’t started lighting the sky yet.
He removed the bulbs again, tortured her nipples and clit, but before he reapplied them, he reached for something else.
She felt the plug press against her asshole and knew what was coming. No prep, no stretching, he just pressed it in, stretching her open without mercy until it seated deep inside her.
He turned it on, reinstalled the three suction cups, and he was gone, lifting back into the air.
He’d put the plug on a random routine. Sometimes low and teasing, sometimes sharp and intense, sometimes pulsing in waves that made her hips jerk. She couldn’t predict it. Couldn’t brace for it. It kept her constantly aware, constantly on edge, her body primed and hypersensitive.
