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My healing agent when I became unhinged.
My savior.
11
Ella
He had me stripped naked on his bed. My wrists were bound to the posts on his headboard. He’d blindfolded me with his red bandana, which he said would heighten the experience.
Burning incense eddied through the air.
Stacy Barthe belted out my favorite song, “Flawed Beautiful Creatures.”
My senses were on high alert. Rocky blew me away with how he’d arranged every detail. The thought and consideration showed how much he wanted to make our night good for me.
A wickedly perfect cocktail of fear and excitement rushed through my veins.
My clit throbbed with anticipation and need.
I wanted to please Rocky and be the person he turned to for help. It was why I’d hung up on him earlier. I’d known it would freak him out. Anytime I threatened to leave him sent him over the edge. So I’d manipulated him to draw him out of the clubhouse and to me. And it had worked splendidly.
Some might have called me horrible for tricking him, but what choice did I have? Something had put him in a bad place, and I couldn’t let him get plastered and have sex with other women. I needed to save Rocky from himself before he destroyed what we had, which would kill him.
So I’d poked the rabid animal.
Sassed him.
Pushed him away because I knew it would make him fight harder for me. And I’d succeeded.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Ella.” He moved around the room. Unable to see him, I dialed in to his steps and breathing. I imagined a starving wolf salivating and seething at his prey, planning his attack and next meal. “Are you scared?”
“No.”
“You should be.” The floorboards creaked under his feet. His hot, humid breath rolled down my chest to my pussy, where he lingered for a maddening length of time.
Molten lava rolled through me as I spread my legs for him. My heart rate increased, and I dripped with arousal from feeling his sultry breath on my skin and my opening.
“Every time we’re together, I’m chipping away at your good and innocent layers, then rebuilding you into my dirty little slut. Are you sure you want this, baby?”
I swallowed thickly and shivered. “Yes. I want to be your dirty little slut.”
“Fuck.” He growled low in his chest. Something soft grazed my inner thigh. I shifted my hips at the teasing tickle and inhaled deeply, desperate for more stimulation. “Do you like the softness of the feather, Ella?”
Yes, that was it!A feather. I arched my back as he made circles on my abdomen with the plume, drawing designs on my body. He was working me up sweetly, but I sensed this was only the beginning and pain would eventually come.
“Answer me,” he barked.
“Yes!” I shouted, in reply to his demand.
“Good girl,” he said, then the feather was gone. I dialed in to his movements, trying to picture his actions, but I wasn’t sure. He could’ve been licking his lips or stroking his cock. I would never know. “And what about this?” A smooth object glided down my leg and abruptly left, then a loudcrackechoed in the room.
“Ah!” I panted and tingled, my wetness coating my thighs.
“Have you ever been whipped with a belt, Ellassandra?” The way my name rolled off his tongue, all sexy and gruff, nearly made me orgasm.
“No.” I whimpered, wishing I could see him. Touch him. Drive him wild the same way he was torturing me.
“But you want to be whipped, don’t you, my dirty little slut?” he hissed. I heard the desperation in his voice. He wanted to crack his belt on my fair skin and turn it red. He ached to give me pain and make me scream in agony.
