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Tobias said nothing for a while, and the lack of communication unnerved her.
“I will take all of you and replace it with more pleasure than you’ve ever known, sub.” He was on her then, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other ripping the coat off. He pushed down on her shoulders, and she hesitated.
“A good submissive doesn’t always need verbal guidance. You should be so willing to please me that my touch alone is enough to tell you what I want you to do and how I want you to move,” he said, and the softness of his words was a sensual threat.
Fear trilled through her, and she capped it off, refusing to give up the opportunity to finally show him she could be what he wanted—what he needed.
Ruthie went to her knees once again.
The scrape of his zipper was loud even above her heavy breathing, and the fear became something altogether different. Heat moved through her, intense and unexpected. Oh, she always desired Tobias, but this was greater than anything she’d ever experienced.
He tapped her chin and she lifted her face automatically. He hissed in a breath, and his tense, “Perfect” had her smiling inside. She smelled the musk of his body, the overlay of cedar-scented soap and aftershave, and the underlay of man. Ruthie licked her lips, desperate suddenly for something.
His hand grabbed her jaw and she opened her mouth; again, no words necessary. It was a dance, much as Candace had warned, but so fucking hot and full of sexual intent it was mind-blowing.
His cock bobbed against her lips and her tongue swiped the head. Tobias groaned, Ruthie smiled, and he bumped his hard flesh on her lips. “Please,” she whispered.
“Shhh, no words,” he ordered.
There was a current of anger in his voice. Ruthie didn’t care—she was close to getting what she’d come here for. She wasn’t going to let his anger stop her.
She took him in her mouth, laving the head of his cock before licking down the shaft, moving even farther before she suckled on his testicles. He grabbed her head then and held her still. Ruthie opened her mouth, and he sank in deep, so deep she nearly gagged, barely controlling the reflex.
He pulled out and sank deep again, and she used her tongue to tease and demand in her own way. Over and over, fast then slow and fast once more, he entered her, doing what he’d promised, taking her apart. She was so wet, so needy, she reached a hand between her legs—and that’s when he stopped.
He pulled out of her mouth and bent over, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his mouth. He licked her fingers clean and placed her hand on her thigh. Her position was such that her knees were starting to protest, but she didn’t complain.
Tobias stepped away. “You don’t touch yourself, ever, unless I’ve given you permission, sub. You don’t do anything unless I give you permission.”
He moved behind her, and she heard another zipper, followed by the rough slide of leather on leather. A short snap followed by a husky laugh, and Ruthie almost fainted. Her mind was moving a hundred miles an hour, calculating scenarios, plotting his next move.
“There are punishments, Ruthie, when you don’t do what I want. If you’re slow to move when I say move, slow to react when I say react, slow to come when I say come, there can be punishments that if you relax and accept them, turn into pleasure. You gave me your list of hard limits, and there was nothing about flogging on there.”
The tails of his tool landed softly, gently, over her shoulders and trailed down her back. She curved to feel them until the last possible second and then nearly screamed as the flogger landed hard on her back, the thud delicious and only slightly burning. The tails were broad, thick, and specifically designed to give an impact without a lot of burn. But the heat was there and it sank through her back to her front, warming all the places that had chilled when she thought he’d not accept her submission.
“You touched yourself, and I didn’t give you permission. Untie your corset, Ruthie, and lower it to the ground beside you,” he ordered.
There was no hint of her Tobias in the tones of his voice—the
re was nothing but hard demand. She moved to do as he commanded immediately, untying the corset from the front, the satin ribbons falling over her arms as she undid the final tie and placed the silk and bone garment on the ground. The cool air rushed over her breasts, toying with her nipples and wringing another shiver from her.
“Lower your torso to your knees and place your forehead on the floor.”
She did as he told her and waited. And waited. And waited. How long she stayed there in that position she didn’t know; time moved at a sluggish pace, and her legs were going numb before he spoke again.
“Part of submission is quieting your mind. I can hear the wheels of yours turning even now. Will I strike you? Will I caress you? Will I bring you to that place where you can be nothing but pleasure? You demanded this of me, and now Ruthie, I’m going to initiate you into my world. I’m going to do all of those things—strike, caress, and bring you pleasure—but remember, Ruthie, when this is over, that you asked it of me.” His voice was rough, and Ruthie had only a second to wonder if she’d asked for too much.
Then his flogger fell and took her breath. The second swing took her voice. The third nearly took her mind. Heat unlike any she’d ever felt tingled over her back. With each fall of the tails on her flesh she lost a little more of herself, her mind sinking into the pleasure of his flogger’s embrace.
Over and over, the tails touched and withdrew, striking and thudding over her skin, bringing more heat until it was a conflagration and Ruthie was sobbing in her pleasure. She had only one thought: More. She wanted it to never end.
She hadn’t heard him move, but when his nails scored over the marks left by his flogger, Ruthie hissed in a breath and said a single word, “Please.”
“Breathe, Ruthie. Take deep breaths and let my warmth push deep inside you,” he said softly against her skin.
A lick, a kiss, a bite, and then he brought the flogger down on her again and again. The strikes landed on top of his earlier ones, and combining with the marks left by his nails they burned, yet it was sweet, that pain. In that moment she lived only for the pleasure, the pain momentary and fleeting, the blaze consuming her and stealing all thought.
As suddenly as he’d begun, he stopped, and distantly she heard the sound of him moving in the kitchen beyond the room they were in. Then he was back, and on top of the heat there was ice, slithering along her spine and dripping down her sides. The cold droplets found her breasts, sliding over her nipples and making her yearn.
