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I shake my head, the denial on my lips. But it’s true. I was with Marcus. I don’t remember if I touched him, but if he says I did, then I must’ve.
But it’s not what he thinks.
It wasn’t a date. I was just being nice, and Marcus mistook my kindness for something else entirely.
I almost tell Isaac the truth, almost tell him about the church but then I’d have to explain camming and I can’t do that. He can never know about what I do, about the way I spread my legs for any and everyone willing to pay. He was furious last night, I can’t imagine how he’d be if he learned the truth.
Instead, I shake my head, a sharp, shuddering breath spilling out. “I’m sorry, my Lord.”
The whip comes down on my ass again, and I cry out. But this time, instead of it only bringing me pain, a twinge of pleasure shoots through me. It confuses the fuck out of me. Why, at this moment, would I be getting turned on?
“Did you think no one would tell your Lord what a greedy whore you’ve been?” he hisses. “Did you fuck my son while I was away, too? Did you tease him with your temptress cunt? Lure him into your bed?” He emphasizes each question with a harsh smack across my ass, the leather strips landing on my pussy and thighs.
“No!” I cry, shaking my head, my hair swaying with the movements. “I didn’t fuck anyone else.”
He moves in front of me and crouches, his firm hand gripping my jaw and forcing my head all the way back. I stare up at his face—his blazing, furious face. “Don’t lie to me,” he snarls. “I know what a whore you are.” He squeezes his hand, squishing my cheeks between his fingers. “Tell me, temptress. Did you like spreading your legs for my son?”
My mouth opens, but from the corner of my eye, I watch his arm raise. He brings the whip down on my ass again, and I cry out.
“I didn’t—”
“You’re lying!” he shouts, startling me. Standing, he rounds me again, and I feel the bulbous tip of the whip’s handle press against my pussy. I gasp at the warmth and look over my shoulder at him. A sneer curls his lip and he lifts his glare to me. “You’re soaking wet just thinking about it.”
“No,” I breathe, shaking my head.
He shoves the round tip in my face. “Get it wet, or it’s going in dry.”
My mouth falls open, mostly from shock, but he doesn't care. He shoves it in, and all I taste is leather. I stare up at him, watching as he roughly thrusts the handle into my mouth, forcing me to gag. Saliva pours from the corners of my mouth, dripping onto the floorboards below.
“That’s it. Taste your greedy pussy.”
I whimper, my lips stretched so far around the handle, a sound barely comes out. My jaw aches as he forces it deeper, and I jolt back, but he follows, never letting it leave my mouth.
Finally, he rips it out, a disgusted look on his face as he looks at the spit-slickened tip. He shakes his head like he’s disappointed before he rounds me again, the rice crunching under his shoes.
I pant heavily, letting my head fall forward. He crouches at my side, the smooth, slick, leather pressing against my entrance.
“Tell me,” he murmurs as he puts pressure against me. “Did it feel good when he was inside you?”
“Isaac,” I moan, shaking my head. “I didn’t fuck him.”
“That’s not what I asked, temptress.” My pussy stretches to accommodate the wide girth of the bulbous tip. “I asked if it felt good with him inside you.”
Yes. The word almost slips out, but I catch it and shake my head again.
Four years ago, when he first slid into me, it felt fucking incredible. I haven’t fucked him since, and no matter how badly I wanted to over the last couple weeks, I didn’t.
I wouldn’t.
The tip finally finds its way in, and I cry out as I’m stretched too wide. “Look at your selfish cunt, swallowing it. You’re so fucking wet for it, Eve. You want it so badly.”
“Please,” I whine.
I don’t know what I’m begging for. For more. For less. For him. I don’t know. I don’t care.
He shoves in until the entire tip is inside me, and my eyes snap open. The criss-cross pattern of the leather rubs against my walls, forcing me to feel something I’ve never felt before. My fingernails dig into the wood floor as he presses deeper, forcing me to feel every inch.
“I’d give you my cock, but I can’t trust you not to come,” he mutters, thrusting the handle harder.
