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“Would you like me to secure your feet?”
“Yes,” I breathed, spreading my legs so they lined up with the legs of the horse.
“Tell me your safe word again.”
“Lavender, sir.”
And then his hands were on my cheeks and I jerked, which was a terrible mistake because my clit rubbed against the leather horse.
“Shh,” he murmured, gripping my ass to hold me still. “Breathe.”
I pulled a shaky breath through my nose, then sighed loudly.
“Again.”
I did as I was told, repeating my deep breaths until the need to come had eased a bit.
“Good girl.” Reed ran his hands down my left leg, then began wrapping my ankle with whatever he’d chosen for restraining me. We’d gone over the different options, from leather straps to rope that might cause pain and various things in between. This only pinched a little, with the bulk of the pain coming from my leg being pressed hard against the wood, but even that wasn’t really painful, just uncomfortable. When he finished, he moved to the other leg, sliding his hand down firmly from my cheek to my calf, then he quickly fastened that ankle to the other leg of the table.
I jumped as the leather whipped against my skin again.
And again.
First one cheek, then the other. Over and over.
My flesh hurt, burned, but my body also reacted to it with a fresh rush of heat to my core. He flogged me again, and again my body arced, pressing my clit against the horse. My hips bucked harder with each whip of leather against flesh until I was panting hard and dry humping the table, then his hands landed on my cheeks, trying to still me. But I was almost there… so close…
He dug his fingers into my cheeks as I fought him. “Enough.”
I cried out, desperate for the orgasm that was just seconds away from me, but I stilled.
“Shh,” he whispered. “Tell me what you want and it’s yours.”
Just like the first time he asked me that question, my answer was the same. “You.”
Reed made a satisfied sound deep in his throat, then he bent and kissed each cheek in turn, gingerly leaving light kisses over what was likely swollen and red skin. He left a trail of kisses down my left leg as he untied the restraint, then did the same on the right, and when both legs were free, he asked, “Can you stand?”
I released my death hold on the wood and used my hands to push my body off the spanking horse, then turned around to face him.
His eyes flashed with need as they locked with mine. “Come here.”
I closed the distance in one quick step, then stepped up on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck and claim his mouth. He kissed me hungrily, and I had the fleeting thought about Stella–had he ever kissed her like this?–but then I pushed it aside and forced my brain to stay in the moment.
He turned us so my back was to the door and pressed me against it, then, with one hand gripping the base of my skull, the other traveled between my legs, tugged the black lace aside, and plunged inside of me.
And then he kissed me. Hard. Claiming me as he pulled me to the edge and carried me right over it.
This time when I cried out, he pulled back to look at me and the sound echoed around the room. His eyes hungrily drank in every gasp, every moan, every jerk of my body as I came to pieces around his hand.
And when I was finished, he tucked his face into my neck, kissing and licking the sweat from my skin, and murmuring praise against my flesh.
