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“What are they for?”
I shrug. He’s right. I can’t even keep track of them at this point. His fingers dig into my cheeks, yanking my head with force until I make eye contact with him. My core clenches around his finger at the look on his face. Darkness in those usually brown eyes. They’re now obsidian with his passion for whatever it is he’s about to do to me.
“For being a bad girl?” he asks, squeezing his hold on my face.
I wince at the pain, but nod my head.
“What was it? Two on the boat for trying to come without my permission?”
I nod. “A few more for being a brat,” I whisper.
He chuckles, his hand rearing back and smacking my ass. I yelp with the sudden bite of pain. He’s never hit me that hard before. “God, I can feel you clenching around my finger. Your pussy is weeping for me. Every time you’re about to come, you’ll count. After your eighth ruined orgasm, you can come. Understood?”
I nod.
“And remember, I know your body. I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying to get the torture over with faster.”
He moves his finger inside of me finally. I let out a gasp, desperate for him to make it feel good, and he does, pressing his thumb against the pad of my clit. I’m already so sensitive, dying for a release so when his speed increases and he hits his digit inside of me against that sweet spot, I let out a cry.
“One,” I moan, so close my walls clench around him, ready to take it even though he won’t let me.
He withdraws his hand, his mouth biting down on my collarbone. I scream, unable to take how horrible it feels. When he pulls away, the skin is already an angry red and his teeth marks are deep. “One,sir,“ Scotty corrects.
I struggle to catch my breath when he smacks my ass again. “One, sir,” I whisper.
“Good, baby. Only seven to go.” The words are meant to be encouraging, but the tone is harsh and unforgiving.
Heat trickles through my spine, and he slides two fingers into me this time. His caresses are slow, meant to make me writhe. And they do. I wiggle, my ass pressing against his thighs. He plays with me slowly, teasing me everywhere with his mouth, his teeth, his hands.
And he continues to finger fuck me at an uneven, slow pace.
“God, your whimpers, Saoirse.” His cock twitches against my thigh.
He quickens his pace, leaving me needing more. My fingers dig into his shoulder, his thrusts increasing until I’m spiraling.
“Two, sir.” The words slip out, but they’re garbled like my brain.
His hand moves, leaving me empty again. This time, his bite is to my nipple. It’s softer, and I sigh in relief. Scotty lets out a soft laugh. “You’re making a mess. My thighs are drenched with you.”
“You do this to me,” I say through heavy breaths. “Unravel me. Please. I’m sorry for everything. Just let me come.”
Three fingers enter me, and I suck in a breath at the pinching sensation of the stretching. He doesn’t move, letting me adjust. When I grind against him, he starts to pump inside of me, hard and fast. The next one comes too quickly and I can barely muster, “Three, sir.”
He withdraws again, a sharp slap coming to my center. I cry out in pain, my pussy clenching around nothing. “Oh, god. So, empty. Please.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to take anymore. Three out of eight. God, never again. He could fill me with his cock and I’d still be insatiable. I need more of him, despite knowing the pain he will unleash on me.
Tears stream down my face. “I need you so badly. Just let me come. I’ll do anything.”
He reaches into the nightstand, rummaging through it. When he closes it, he’s got a bottle of lube and something else in his hand. He presses the cold, stainless steel to my lips. “Get it wet.”
My tongue licks the bulb of the anal plug, a moan leaving my mouth.
“Have you had sex here before?” he asks, a finger pressing against my back entrance.
I shake my head, no.
His lips curve into an evil smile. “Lie on your back. Hold your knees to your chest.”
