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Derek wasn’t wrong. I do have something that means everything to me. Something I’d burn the world down to find if ever taken from me. So, she has to stay a secret for as long as I can hide her. From him at least.
She pulls her knitted beanie down over her ears, walking so close to me she brushes my arm with every step. Finally, we make it to the rock stairs, and I type in a passcode, making the solid oak door pop open. “Do you own this place?” she asks as she takes it all in.
The place is mostly fresh oak, but there are spots where raw rock bleeds through. It’s a two-story, the front door opening into the living room. Rich blacks, grays, and browns as the décor. The windows are all floor to ceiling, giving way to the beautiful scenery around us. The kitchen is on the left, the stairs to the second floor on the right, right off the end of the living room. “I do. It’s my vacation house. I come here mostly during summer breaks, though.”
“It’s so beautiful,” she whispers, spinning in a circle to take it all in.
I was thinking the same thing while watching her.
* * *
I poura glass of scotch as I watch her jump on my bed, her glass of wine discarded, sitting on the nightstand. I shouldn’t allow her to drink, but I can’t justify telling her no, when I’ve been fucking her like she’s a grown woman. She’s not drunk, she’s barley taken a sip. I get the idea she only gets drunk when life gets too hard. She uses it to numb the pain, while I use it to wind down for the day. I bring the glass to my lips, allowing the rich flavors to explode across my tongue. “Doll Face.” She jerks her head in my direction. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
I reach my hand out and lead her around the corner of the room where there should have been a sitting area to look over the floor-to-ceiling windows to give a picturesque view of the vast forest beyond, but instead there are cuffs that are embedded in the wall, extra chains to give it some leeway. Two for her hands, two for her feet. And a simple chest of drawers. Eyes lighting up in curiosity, she trails her fingers over the leather cuffs. “Well, this looks kinky.”
“You’re about to find out. Strip for Daddy,” I rasp.
She shivers at my words, pulling her big sweater over her head, her pink lace-covered breasts popping free. She shimmies her leggings down, her pussy covered in matching underwear. I can feel myself growing hard by her subtle curves and perky breasts. I reach into my pants, adjusting my throbbing cock. Her bow is pink, matching the lace set, and as she reaches for it I smack her hand lightly. “Leave it.”
She smiles, stepping up against the wall, handing over her full control to me. I step up to her, watching her curious eyes as I put one of her wrists into the cuff, snapping it closed. She jumps from the sound, causing me to grin as I cuff the other. I lean down, kissing her lips gently before dropping to my knees, stretching both legs until her ankles fit in the cuffs. My hand trails up her calf and I bury my nose into the lace at the apex of her thighs, kissing her before I bite her gently, causing a moan to fall from her lips. I rise, grinning at the lust-induced haze covering her eyes.
I feel her gaze on me as I walk over to the drawer and pull the first one open. I grab the leather flogger. It looks intimidating, but its bark is bigger than its bite. Well, sometimes. When I turn, she cocks her head, studying the tassels with catlike curiosity. I stand in front of her, running the leather tassels in between my fingers. “Have you ever heard of impact play?”
“Like where you hit someone with your hand or a toy?” she asks innocently, but I can tell she’s been doing some research.
“Very good, Miss Madison.” I smirk. She bites her lip, smiling. “Is that something you’re interested in trying?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to give you a safe word—it was irresponsible of me not to have given you one when we first started. Use this word whenever you feel uncomfortable or if it’s just too much. Okay?”
“Okay.” She wiggles in her chains a bit.
“Your safe word israven.” I picked the word because it’s my favorite poem by Edgar Allan Poe. How grief can drive you to the brink of madness. Overpowering your mind and actions.
“Like your hair,” she whispers.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head.
I step up to her, running the tassels over her face. She closes her eyes, mouth parting as the leather drifts over her pink-stained lips. I trail it down her neck, over a pointed nipple, and then, I slap it against her. She jumps, a slight laugh leaving her lips from the sound and gentle assault on her sensitive flesh. I trail it down her stomach, letting it whisper over her before I pop it against her again. She moans, thrashing against the restraints. I smack it on her thigh, a little harder this time. She whimpers, body jerking forward. I slap her other thigh, then against her breast again.
“You’re a very dirty slut, aren’t you?” Her moans grow louder, body shimmering in a light sweat. She glistens between her thighs, so I smack the inside of one. I do a pattern, alternating between whipping her breasts, her mound, and her thighs, until she’s a mess. I reach down, undoing the cuffs on her feet. I spin her, her arms twisting above her head as she faces the wall. I whip her ass, red splashes of color appearing on her milky skin. She screams out her moans, her head falling forward. I snap the tassels against the tender flesh of her arm, and my dick is so fucking hard at this point, it’s beginning to hurt. I hit her lower back, her ass, the backs of her thighs, causing her body to shake as she moans.
I drop the flogger to the ground, stripping myself of my pants. I trail kisses down the hot flesh of her spine, my hand sneaking around to thrust two fingers inside of her. “Good girl, Doll Face,” I praise against her skin. I spin her back around, and her hazy eyes find mine, so much want in her gaze driving me fucking mad. I suck my fingers into my mouth, groaning at her taste on my tongue. She bites her lip, eyes closing. I lose all control as I grip her panties. Stretching them until they rip from her body. I grab her thighs, slamming her back into the wall as I wrap her legs around my waist. I push up into her and she cries out, struggling against the restraints to touch me. I thrust into her, bringing her neck to my mouth so I can suck on her pulse point, tasting a hint of salt. “You’re Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?” I thrust harder. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” she answers breathlessly. “I’m Daddy’s good girl, his perfect slut.”
I growl, attacking her mouth. Rubbing my tongue against hers as I fuck her ruthlessly, feeling her squeezing me and falling apart on my dick. She throws her head back, crying out her release as I come, filling her up until my cum is leaking down her thighs. I ride the high, bask in the feel of being inside her for the first time with no barrier. “You were fucking made for me,” I whisper in her ear.
Oh, fuck.
I pull back, quickly undoing the cuffs, and she falls into my arms, boneless. “I came inside you,” I whisper. Only a little mad at myself.
“I’m on the pill,” she mumbles sleepily in my arms.
“Thank fuck for that.” I walk her to the bathroom, getting a bath ready with her still bundled in my arms. I sit her on the counter, stripping the lace from her breasts, tucking her bow in the top drawer of the counter.
