Page 111 of Ready For His Rule

“Unnnnhh!”

The crowd was silent in the aftermath of her visceral wail. A scream and stillness. A fire against the dark. Her pain. His pleasure.

Damn. Yes.

Without hesitation, Franz whipped the falls back then forward again.

Again.

Three more strokes followed those. Three more after that. For every strike, Tracy gave up a strained cry—stark sacrifices to his ruthless dragon. Though time didn’t stand still, he damn well wished it could. He had no real idea how long it all took; only that through all nine blows, their audience was utterly mute—listening, as he did, to the symphony more beautiful than anything a standard conductor and orchestra could create. It was the honest, brutal music from the depths of this woman’s throat. First, pitched with shock and fear…but soon, deepening with acceptance and awakening…

And finally, surcease and surrender.

“Christ.” John reeled, sweating and stimulated, as he staggered to behold what magic the leather had evoked along her skin. The length of her spine was pink as a branch of cherry blossoms, some blooms deeper pink than others. That branch rose and fell from the breeze she fanned via mindless undulations, fighting to manipulate her body tighter against the leather pad with coiled arms and rolling hips. But the reason he repeated the oath wasn’t due to any of that.

“Christ.”

It was the cock-grabbing beauty of her face.

Yes, even under the hood.

Especiallyunder the hood.

Because all he saw right now were the elements that mattered.

The animal inhalations of her nose. The wild stimulation in her eyes. And, as his female “friend” in the audience voiced, “Mmmm. Drool.”

The stuff reddened his subbie’s spread lips. Dripped to the stage like mesmeric poetry, all but making John forget the ultimate plan for the rest of her lesson. How he yearned to toss the damn flogger behind him, yank that fucker of a bit off her lips, then sink every inch of his dick into her soft, wet mouth and fuck her there while the crowd cheered.

But there was a better plan at work.

An even better use for that gorgeous liquid dripping from her.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun transporting it, though.

Perfect. Solution.

Driven by the decisiveness, he one-handed the fly on his cargos. The pants, constructed so a guy could easily accomplish business in the woods, gave his cock plenty of room to fly free. The damn thing leapt for his navel the moment he sprang it free from the zipper. He had to wrestle it into his fist in order to work the pre-come up and down the shaft, a struggle well-rewarded by the brilliant lightning of Tracy’s gaze, following every inch of his movements.

“Not for you, kitten,” he admonished. “Not yet.” He channeled the energy into circling the flogger back in, swirling it in a Florentine figure eight before her eyes. “But this is for you—if you want more?”

“Mmmmm.” She moaned it like a wildcat in heat, the pitch jacking higher as he teased just the tips of the falls along the valley of her back.

“What was that, pretty kitty?” He twisted the handle, waltzing the strands like kinky ballroom dancers. “Couldn’t quite hear you.”

“Me, neither,” a faceless male called out from the crowd.

“Couldn’t hear a thing here,” another stated in an ominous bass.

Several more people chimed in, finally making him openly chuckle. When kinksters combined sarcasm and sadism, the result was one unique explosion of humor.

The woman in front of him clearly didn’t agree. Eyes blazing and shoulders nearly up against her cute latex ears, she grunted soundly at him—eliciting a dark growl from his own throat. Her primitive sound was sure as fuck arousing, but not effective for what he ultimately needed. Grunts didn’t make saliva.

Screams did.

“Oh, come on, kitten.” He threw some force into the taunt, smacking her skin a little harder. “If you want it, beg me for it.”

“Mmmmppph!”

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