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“Sir is driving me mad,” she said, her voice a whisper.
“Is that right?” he asked unconcernedly. At his own pace, he moved over her collarbone then down her chest.
“I want…”
“Tell me,” he said. He knew what she was going to say, it was obvious, but still, he liked to hear the words.
“Attention.”
“I’ll make sure I give you everything you can take,” he promised.
“On my breasts, Mr Tomlinson. And my pussy. I’m getting horny.”
He wished he hadn’t asked. Pre-cum leaked from his cockhead. He wanted to give her everything she desired and it took considerable focus to continue on his planned path. The longer he took, the more aroused she would be.
Finally he reached her breasts. He wanted to leave marks that she would see when she dressed for work on Monday.
Her nipples were still hard. He caught the tips and areolas with the very edge of the leather, flicking his wrist quickly to brutally bite at the flesh.
She screamed over and over, thrashing her head.
“Good,” he said. “Very good. Give me all of your emotions.” He adjusted the grip on the handle of the flogger so he could hit her with the broad sides of the leather strands rather than with the tips.
She cried out when he caught the underside of her creamy flesh, but she continued to arch towards him rather than trying to escape.
David took great care with her, ensuring all pain was deliberately inflicted.
She rewarded his efforts with tiny moans punctuated with screams.
Without warning her, he let the strands fall on her pussy.
“Yes. Damn. Yes.”
He blazed across her inner thighs and her pussy, giving her no quarter as each piece of leather fell, bit, caressed. He liked the way her most private part was exposed with no way for her to pull away even when he stopped holding back.
Within a minute or two, her breathing settled into a regular pattern. Everything he dished up, she hungrily accepted. “Pain slut,” he said.
“More, more, more,” she chanted.
Her wild abandon had earned her an orgasm.
He rubbed the flogger’s handle between her slick folds as he swiftly entered her pussy with two fingers.
“I want to come,” she said.
“Beg.” He decreased the pressure, giving her just enough to keep her on edge but not enough to kick her over it.
“Oh, God, please. Please, Mr Tomlinson, for all that is holy, let me fucking come.”
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind, Ms Carpenter.”
She struggled for purchase. After gasping a couple of times, she said, “Please, Mr Tomlinson, I’m begging you. Please let me come.”
Much better. He finger-fucked her hard as he stimulated her clitoris.
“Sir? Please. Mr Tomlinson.”
He saw her whole body shake as she fought to obey him and suppress the imminent orgasm. He’d known her for months, and he wondered if he’d been blind. She was perfect in her responses. “Come,” he instructed. “Come now.”
Maggie moved against him faster and faster, and he responded to her silent demands, pushing harder, finding her G-spot and pressing against it.
Her body became racked with tremors and she screamed out her orgasm.
He continued his motions until she shivered a bit. He eased the handle away from her and slowly withdrew from her heated cunt.
She blew out a breath and pulled against the restraints.
“You’re a very sexy woman, Maggie.” He walked around to the top of the table, keeping a hand on her at all times in reassurance. Her body was pink, with several deep red patches. He turned her head so that she faced him as he stood next to her. “That was one,” he said. “Think you’re up for more?”
“Are you challenging me now, Mr Tomlinson?” she asked quietly.
“Not at all.”
She raised a sceptical eyebrow.
“Okay,” he admitted. “Perhaps.”
“Give me your best, Mr Tomlinson. I can take it.”
He grinned. This was the Maggie he knew, the Maggie he respected and admired. She was so unlike any sub he’d been involved with. Of course he knew tough-minded businesswomen, a few athletes, even a politician. Yet Maggie’s exterior, combined with her complex and demanding vulnerability, ensnared him. “I’d like to leave you restrained.”
