Page 64 of In His Cuffs

She craned her head to see what he was selecting from the toy box. She winced, wishing she hadn’t seen anything when her gaze fixed on a single tail. With that thing, there would be no subspace for her, she knew. But it might leave a mark.

She closed her eyes as she heard him test snap the leather.

Her mouth dried, and for the first time, she considered using her slow word. This was going to hurt.

“You’ll manage,” he said.

At least that’s what she thought he said. Over the sound of the blood rushing in her ears, she could hear little else.

The lash caught her thighs and wrapped around to sear again. “Fuck.” She yanked at her restraints, fighting the agony.

He waited for what seemed a long time while she fought for breath.

Before she was ready, he landed another.

She bounced her heels off the ground, trying to help dissipate the sensation, but it didn’t help. This wasn’t a spanking, nothing close to it.

He struck her several more times in quick succession, and she did scream. No matter how she tugged and struggled to get away, she was helpless in his cuffs.

“So beautiful.”

She hadn’t been aware of it, but the whipping had ended. He pressed his cool body against her heated one, forcing her into the structure. He entered her pussy in one powerful thrust.

“You were made for this, sub,” he said against her ear as he bent his knees to gain leverage to surge up into her.

Maggie cried out again and again as he rammed her, impaling her against the wall.

“Do you want to come, Maggie?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Please, please, please. Sir.” Every part of her vibrated with the need for him to possess her. Her legs and buttocks burnt as if he’d branded her. But damn, the intensity made an orgasm claw at her. “Fuck me. Let me come.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pounded her. Nothing soft or gentle. Just a raw and primal pulse.

She babbled incoherently, shamelessly moving her body to take him deeper.

“Tight, hot cunt,” he said.

“Yours,” she said with a gasp.

“Come for me.”

She lifted onto her toes and he surged into her again. She felt shredded as she bucked, her pussy convulsing with her orgasm.

She whimpered as he ejaculated.

He dropped his head onto her arm, a revealingly intimate gesture. Part of her wanted the moment to last forever. All too soon, he pulled away, and she felt the physical distance between them. The interlude would end and they’d both return to work tomorrow—she had no idea what that meant for them. Last night he’d been clear that he wanted a personal relationship with her. She’d been trying to convince herself that she could compartmentalise her life. Maggie was no longer as certain.

David unfastened her from the structure then removed the cuffs and collar. She thought it was in some way symbolic, but suspected he wouldn’t agree.

“You’ll have at least two marks from that,” he told her. “No matter how much cream I put on them.”

After they’d had lunch on the deck, she put her clothes back on. He walked her to her car and lifted her skirt to swat her butt, reigniting the pain before she got into the car.

Feeling awkward, she drove away without saying goodbye. On the way home, she kept her phone close in case he called or sent a message. He didn’t.

* * * *

That night, the bad dreams found her. When she summoned up her inner warrior and turned towards the blue-eyed monster, he vanished, leaving her alone. That chilled her, and she sat up with a start.

Unable to shake the vestiges, she got up earlier than normal and took her coffee onto her small patio to watch the sunrise.

She shifted in her chair, uncomfortable from one of his stripes. Mr Tomlinson’s. Master David.

In such a short amount of time, he’d demolished the blocks she had in place to keep him at bay. Sceneing with him had been disastrous to her equilibrium. She’d avoided BDSM relationships because she wanted to be a bedroom slut, not adopt the lifestyle. But he’d made his position clear when he’d stripped her of her clothing, told her she could not attend the ladies’ night functions at the Den then asked her to call him Master.

She put down the cup before she sloshed her coffee over the rim. Her worst fear was realised. The more she got, the more she wanted.

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