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I bring my hand down on the other cheek and a squeal fills the room. “Two.”
We repeat the same process, massage, spank, count, massage, her reddening skin only serves as its own form of torture. Seeing my marks on her body is the purest form of ecstasy and I almost abandon the punishment more than a few times.
“Eight,” Emerson sobs. The tears started after the fifth strike, which was when I really started putting my weight behind it. I was telling the truth when I said I wouldn’t give her more than she could handle, but I want to push her. I want to tiptoe on the edge of her limits and then push a little harder.
I rub the heat into her red skin and lean over her, careful not to put too much weight on her burning flesh. “You’re doing so well, sweet girl. Are you okay?”
Emerson nods into the pillow she’s crying into. Her cheeks are tear stained and pink just like her ass and I can’t help but smile. She looks so fucking beautiful when she cries. I know that makes me sound like a fucking sociopath, and hell, I am one, but her tears are like crack to me. If I could, I would bathe in them. “I’m okay,” she pants.
“Do you need to say your safe word?” I ask. I don’t think she’ll use it unless I give her a real reason, and she’s not even close to her limit yet, but I have to ask. I love her pain. I crave her tears. But I never want to hurt her. The pain I want to inflict is only to unlock a new level of pleasure for her.
She shakes her head slightly. “No, keep going.”
A smirk tugs at the corners of my mouth. She likes it.
Emerson fought like I knew she would, but as soon as I got her here, as soon as I had her at my mercy, she was like putty in my hands, loving everything I give her.
I reposition myself behind her and start massaging the hot flesh of her ass. I need to get the rest of her punishment over with so I can sink right into her tight little pussy like I’ve been dreaming since the first time I laid eyes on her.
25
Emerson
Another heavy sob cracks through the surface and I claw into my restraints. Every time Rayne’s hand collides with my ass I think I can’t take anymore. In fact, I’m fucking sure of it. It burns like nothing I’ve ever felt, but it’s also freeing.
Each count makes me feel lighter, it clears my head until the only thing left is Rayne. His weight on my legs. His hand on my ass. His praises each time I count out loud. It’s intoxicating.
I’m overwhelmed by sensations. The pain. The wetness between my legs. The moments of bliss where I feel like I’m floating. I don’t know what to make of any of it, because I thought I was going to hate Rayne for punishing me. In fact, I was fucking sure of it.
As he dragged me to the bed and tied me down, I was sure I was going to hate every single second. The moment he gave me a safe word, I was ready to say it just to make it end, but the moment his hand landed on my soft skin, I was addicted to the feeling. And then every feeling after it drew me further in.
“Ten,” I rasp. It’s getting harder to concentrate on the numbers, to force words out past the cries. My throat hurts from screaming in pain, or maybe it’s pleasure, I’m not sure anymore.
“You’re taking your punishment so well, Emerson. I’m going to give you five more, but you don’t need to count them and I’ll do it quick, okay?”
“Okay,” I breathe. Or at least I think I do. The lack of control I have over my own body should terrify me. I’m turned on when I should be scared. I’m enjoying having pain inflicted on my body. And I’m growing addicted to the feeling with each time Rayne’s hand lands on my burning flesh.
True to his word, Rayne’s hand connects with my skin five more times, and each one is infinitely more painful than the last. I’m glad he decided I didn’t need to count anymore, because the way my mind seems to float away as my body is overwhelmed with pain, I truly don’t think I’m capable of speech, let alone counting.
I close my eyes and allow myself to float. All the worries that usually litter my mind are gone, and it’s just me and Rayne. His body pressed against mine. Tears streaming down my face. The burning skin of my ass. The throbbing between my legs. I lean into the feeling and it’s like I’m floating above my body, watching the scene before me with keen interest.
“Emerson,” Rayne whispers into my hair as he peppers kisses all over my face. “Come back to me, sweet girl.” His words are sweet and gentle, so at odds with the man I had seen a few hours ago, the man that murdered a man in cold blood because he touched me.
It’s only now I realize I’m not restrained anymore. I’m bundled up in a soft blanket, cradled on Rayne’s lap as he gently strokes my hair and presses kisses to every piece of me he can reach.
“You did so good baby,” he praises and a shiver vibrates through my body. I shouldn’t like those words so much. I shouldn’t be so addicted to them that I would take a hundred more spankings as long as he praises me like this every time. I think that probably makes me certifiable, but I don’t care.
The time I spent tied to Rayne’s bed with him spanking me was the first time since I found out Brad ruined my life that I felt free, that I allowed myself to just be. Even though being with Rayne is a bad idea, even though I know I’m about to become a target because of who he is, I don’t care. Even if everything goes to shit and I’m left with a broken heart, or worse, I can’t see myself regretting my choice to be with him, because he makes me feel whole.
The way he’s holding me is firm, like he’s trying to hold me together. I’m cradled in his arms in such a way that there’s no pressure on my burning flesh as he gently strokes my hair and whispers to me sweetly. If you’d told me that the Rayne I knew, the hard, kind of terrifying, hot as sin man that enraptured my every thought from the moment we locked eyes had a soft side, I would have laughed in your face, but here we are. He’s holding me like I’m the most precious thing in the world to him, and I almost believe that I am.
The look of pure terror when he kicked the door down was enough to tell me I mean something to him.
Rayne wipes stray tears from my cheeks as he gazes down at me with something I can’t pinpoint in his eyes. If I didn’t know better, I would think it was something close to love, but that’s crazy. We’ve only known each other a few weeks, and I still haven’t fully admitted to myself that we’re an item. There’s no way those kinds of feelings are in the mix, not yet at least, and maybe not ever.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you when I was in danger. I didn’t understand… I didn’t…” I choke on the words. I thought I had come down from the high I was riding, but apparently I haven’t.
“I know, sweet girl. I know,” Rayne whispers. “I tried to give you time to accept that you were mine, but that was the worst thing I could have done. It gave you time to doubt my words.”
