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And then I inhale deeply, smile wide, and say, “Let the obedience training begin.”
Then and only then do I let the whip fly.
Chapter Thirty
HANNAH
I expect searing pain.
I expect tearing flesh.
I expect something out of a horror movie with medieval torture.
Instead…
There’s a searing sting on my ass. Along with the imposing crack noise of the whip.
I turned my head away from him, not able to watch my own whipping, but now I spin my head around quickly to see what happened. Did he… miss? Oh God, oh God, he’s already rearing back again, and I watch in horror as the whip arcs through the air toward me again—
Only for another hot little sting to sear my ass cheek. The opposite of the one from the first time.
My mouth drops open. No noise comes out.
There’s only the noise of the whip flying through the air.
The crack.
And then the sharp sting against my ass. My whole body jumps. That one smarts more.
But it isn’t… I try to look over my shoulder at my ass, but the angle is impossible with how he’s got me tied up.
And again he lands another strike, and a little yelp comes out of me this time at the sting.
But it’s only ever a sting.
He’s not even breaking skin.
Which is when I realize… dammit, he knows what he’s doing. He’s in control of the thing.
Which is when I start breathing funny.
Little stings hit all up and down my ass cheeks. Expertly, and never in the same place twice.
He moves around the bottom of the bed so the wicked little tip of the damn whip can hit—
“Oh!” I cry out in surprise when he gets—
Shit, did he intend to whip between my legs and get my— Fuck, of course he did. I blink rapidly, not sure what I’m feeling anymore.
Except that… oh fuck, I think I’m starting to get wet.
It’s just, I was expecting brutality, and then he does this super-expert stinging sensation thing, and I— I’m so confused about everything again, just when I’ve decided he’s a bastard.
He is a bastard. He tied you to a bed and he’s whipping you!
“You understand, yes? Your body bends to me.”
Somehow, he’s snuck up on me because his voice is right behind my ear.
I startle and look over my shoulder only to find him hovering right above me, one knee bent on the mattress. The tips of his wings have flared outward like they do sometimes when he’s—
When he’s aroused.
“You will submit to me,” he says, and then that long, wicked tongue of his is on my neck. “One way or another.”
I tremble beneath him.
He’s again tracing down my back, but it doesn’t feel like his hand. I try to look, but he grasps the back of my hair to hold me still, facing the mattress.
“I don’t know if you deserve my cock after the stunt you pulled. Maybe I’ll fuck you with the handle of this whip. Bad consorts don’t deserve their master’s cock or to feel the light of their master’s gush.”
“You aren’t my master,” I hiss, still furious.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he says. And this time, when he smacks my ass, after the whipping, it more than stings.
I yelp.
“You’ll learn, little consort. I can be a very patient teacher.”
And then I feel an object between my legs. Is it his hand? It doesn’t feel like his—
“That’s the handle of the very whip I just punished you with. And you’re going to take it up your pussy and thank me for it.”
All the air in my chest huffs out.
“No I won’t.” I glare while he continues grasping my head firmly.
“But my hand is here, too,” he says, and I feel it. “And I can smell you. Your gush has already begun.”
He rubs the hand not holding the whip down my hip. “Such a shapely little consort I have. So ready to gush for me at all the dirty things I do to you.”
I try to shake my head in denial, but then his thumb is strumming against my clit and his hips lean in. All the stimulation has primed me.
And isn’t this exactly what I was thinking about when I hung up on Drew earlier?
This is the kinky shit I’m just learning that I’m actually… into?
I don’t fight the moan coming up my throat when his strumming becomes more intentional. Isn’t this the wildness inside me I’ve been yearning to discover my whole life? So what if it starts with sex? So what if it starts with a kinky whipping, tied to a bed by a self-described monster?
“I’m going to fuck you with this whip now,” he hisses in my ear. “And you’re going to squeal and gush for me.”
I can only moan and wiggle my hips slightly. Arching my ass upwards. Making myself ready for whatever he’ll do next.
Because goddamn it, I will gush for it. I am already. I want to see what comes next as much as I can hear how excited he is for it. My body will admit what my mouth doesn’t have to.
