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This is it. The turning point. So, am I all in or not?
I take a deep breath. “Not a chance,” I say, maintaining eye contact as I sink two fingers inside my pussy and groan in pleasure.
That tips him over the edge and he struggles some more before he lets out a roar of frustration and rips the armrests clean off the chair.
I swallow a gulp of air as he stands, two huge pieces of metal dangling from his arms as he works quickly to untie the ropes now that he can reach them.
All I can do is watch him. I’m frozen still. My heart pounding in my chest as I wait for him to make his way over to me. He looks like he’s been possessed by a demon – but he has never looked hotter. He is about to fuck me into oblivion and I am totally here for it.
Just as he’s loosening the last of the rope he looks up at me, his eyes burning into me so fiercely I feel like I might melt.
“You’d better run, Angel,” he says as he licks his lips and I realize he is not playing.
I spring up from the sofa and run straight for the door. My stockinged feet don’t have the best grip and I can’t move as fast as I’d like to.
I run straight into the hallway. My heart beats wildly in my chest. Adrenaline pulses through my veins giving me a surge of energy as I race toward the other end of the apartment.
My rational brain knows I’m not in any real danger, but that doesn’t stop the fight or flight response from completely overtaking my body.
When I hear Conor running behind me, I pump my arms faster, trying to get a grip on the solid wooden floor as my feet slide back slightly every time I take a step, losing me vital seconds. I mean as if Conor being a foot taller than me didn’t already give him enough of an advantage. I gasp for breath as I hear him closing in behind me, getting closer with each second no matter how fast I run.
I sense him before I feel him and I yelp in terror right before he body-slams me into the wall, shaking the breath from my lungs. I tremble beneath the weight of him as he pins me against the cool plaster.
His hot breath dances over the skin of my neck, making me shiver. “You should have run faster,” he growls in my ear and I almost pass out from terror, anticipation and excitement. Then his hands are pulling at the waistband of my panties. He tears them off me in one swift move, causing the fabric to dig into my delicate flesh. “And you should have called for help when you had the chance,” he chuckles darkly before he shoves my balled up panties into my mouth.
All I can do is whimper, the sound muffled by the damp material. He pulls my hands behind me, binding my wrists tightly together with the same rope I just used on him. I try to wrench from his grip but he pulls the rope tighter until it pinches my skin and I moan softly as tears run down my cheeks and wet heat pools between my thighs.
When he’s done, he lifts me over his shoulder, slaps me on the ass and carries me to his bedroom like a caveman claiming his prize.
As soon as we reach his room, Conor kicks the door closed behind him and tosses me face-down onto middle of the bed as though I’m as light as a feather. Then he grabs the rope binding my wrists, pulling me up until I’m on my knees on the end of the bed, my ankles hanging over the edge and my face pressed against the mattress.
“Do not move a fucking inch,” he orders and I swallow hard. I want to look behind me to see what he’s doing, but I don’t dare disobey him.
I strain to listen instead but the only sounds I hear are my heavy breathing and my heartbeat thumping in my ears. I figure he must be getting undressed because he isn’t touching me. Then I hear his footsteps on the wooden floor as he pads into the bathroom and the sound of the faucet being turned on makes fear and pleasure skitter along my spine. A few seconds later he is behind me and the warm water being poured over my ass makes me flinch.
Fuck!
I love that he is an expert when it comes to causing pain.
“Don’t move!” he repeats and I stay still as the water drips off me, onto the bed and the floor.
I mumble his name, the sound muffled my panty-stuffed mouth.
“Still think I’m going to be the one doing the begging, Angel?” he chuckles as he rubs a wet hand over my ass cheeks. I tense my muscles involuntarily. A spanking on wet skin is always much more painful.
“You need to relax,” he growls. “This is what you wanted, right?” He slaps my ass hard and it stings like a bitch.
I give a muffled cry and he slaps me again.
“Do you have any idea how fucking hard you make me?” he growls as he spanks me harder, making tears prick at my eyes. But despite the pain, wet heat sears between my thighs and my pussy throbs in anticipation. “How fucking torturous it was to have to watch you touching yourself and not being able to get to you?”
“No,” I whimper but the word isn’t even audible so I shake my head.
“Will you ever do that to me again?”
Dear God, yes!
“I asked you a question,” he snarls as he spanks me again.
