To Tame An Angel: A Femdom Fantasy Romance

CHAPTER TEN

NALLA

Composing myself after mother’s visit takes an hour. I need space to think, to plan, and despair. I felt as if all my hopes were dashed. Afterwards, I wished I’d stood up to mother and had the same strength and power I felt whenever I handled Tannor. Why was it different? Why do I crumble before her? She frightens me so much that I feel I’m nothing but a small girl instead of a warrior and dominating mistress.

Before I returned to Tannor, I changed my clothing. To save him and myself from pain, I need to put away the soft gowns and don my armor. The servants strap me into my suit, cinching it at the waist until I’m encased in black leather. Usually reserved for fighting and training, today it’ll be used for more domestic pursuits.

The meek young man who brings the food informs me that my angel has been provided dinner and he’d drank the last of his medicine. A soft curl of tenderness encircles my belly at his obedience, but I pushed it down. No. He drank it because I said he must. He obeyed. That’s the way it is. That’s the way it must be. I braced myself for his hate, for it will surely come.

When I entered, I found him standing. I caught him at mid-pace. He wore trousers and nothing else. Instantly, he walked to me before he paused, taking in my attire.

My boots leave echoes in my wake.

He raised a brow, and I sensed the slight recoil in his stance. He towered over me, and I’d forgotten his height since he’d been bedridden. Despite his girth, his waist was slim and shaved into a lovely point, trailing into his trousers.

“You left the bed,” I stated as I moved towards him, until we stand staring at one another.

“You changed your clothes,” he countered.

“You dislike leather, Tannor?” I asked.

“Depends,” he said, and his eyes are still taking in how the corset shapes against my breasts and hips.

“On what?” I circled him, studying his back, his shoulders, the curve of his luscious ass.

“If it’s on you, I enjoy it very much. If it’s whipping my back, I don’t,” he snapped and turned his head to stare at me.

The thought of lightly tanning the ass before me fills me with desire and I slowly slide my hand to his buttocks, caressing him over the trousers. He let out a small gasp of surprise, but the darkening of his eyes was unmistakable.

“What if it’s whipping your ass?” I squeezed a cheek, the flesh plump and inviting.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he looked frozen, and the scent of musk and citrus was faint but undeniable. “Is it magic? What you use to make me want such things?”

I almost laughed and forgot that I must remain composed. Shaking my head, I slid my hand up his back until I cupped his neck and threaded my fingers into his hair. With a harsh yank, I brought him to me until his face was inches from mine. His hands clasped my waist, pulling me in.

“Did you ever think that perhaps, just perhaps, it’s desirable to you too?” I asked and nipped his lower lip.

He leaned forward, gasping. Having him this willing and pliable blanked my mind. I suddenly need to have him in me, feel him stretch me as I commanded him to thrust.

“Nalla — ” he whispered and moved to kiss me, but I moved his head back, with a fistful of his hair.

Denial.

“Lower your trousers and drape yourself, ass in the air,” I hissed.

His cheek twitched as I let go of his hair and pointed to the settee. His eyes flickered to the chair, then back at me. He wished to argue. There’s doubt and hesitation clouding his eyes. And fear. The scent of musk and citrus intensified.

I don’t take my eyes from his face, drinking in all the shifting thoughts flittering through his head. Finally, he nods.

“Fine. Let’s get it over with, you sadistic bitch,” his tone is low and angry.

The urge to smile in triumph nearly wins me over. My heart skips as I watch him slowly walk to the chair, a small limp still on his feet. He paused before the chair and looked back at me. We stared at one another as he slowly unlaced his trousers and slid them down his hips. His cock is half hard. I glanced at it with a raised brow and bit my lip at the soft blush that colored his face.

He looked away, angry and ashamed of his reaction.

Hesitantly, he lowered his arms to the seat of the chair, the muscles straining, his head down, staring at the fabric. I walk around him, taking all of him in. My cunt is soaked and I’m desperate to touch myself just a little, to hold off the edge until I let him eat me.

He’s spectacular at this moment. Twice my size, able to plummet me if he wished, bent over for display. He moved his head to look at me, to watch me appreciating him.

His lips thinned. “Are you just going to watch?”

I paused and slapped my hand down on his right upturned cheek. He’s too muscled for it to bounce, but my strength behind the spank made him flinch out a grunt, looking down once more.

“I’ll do what I like. Some days I’ll ask that you greet me just like this, presenting yourself to me, ready for whatever my whims are.”

At my words, his dangling cock twitched, straining into the chair. I smile in triumph. His breath becomes heavier, deeper. He shifted his legs, widening them and providing me a better look at his balls and cock.

“What do you say to that, Tannor?” I asked, my hands trailing over his bent back, delighting in the rippling of his flesh. “Would you greet me like this after a long day of training? Offering yourself to me?”

The muscles in his arms twitched. “I rather greet you with my face between your legs. Then maybe you’ll be in a better mood than now, after whatever hate your mother spilled on you.”

His words cut me raw and I’m as equally exposed as he is. He looked at me with a knowing stare over his shoulder. Unrepentant and daring. He didn’t know what they’d do to him if it’s discovered he speaks as such. With fury igniting my veins, I storm to my chest, leaving him bent over. I take out my yellow rope and a wooden paddle that should nicely color his ass.

He watched as I unlaced the rope in harsh tugs. I take his hands and pull him further down. He grunted as I tied the knots expertly over his wrists. His breathing became erratic. I yanked the rope and slid it under the seat, tossing it between his legs. Then I moved behind him and tied each ankle to a leg of the chair. With one last hard pull, he was immobilized.

I was breathing deeply by the time I was done. Two months of daily rope binding training paid off. As I slowly rose, I see his cock was fully erect and the scent he exudes is bright and sharp.

So, after all his protests, he enjoys being tied up.

I picked up the paddle from where I left it, right by his face, and slowly slid it to his chin, lifting him so that he looked at me. His blue eyes darkened and, though he was still angry, I sensed it was more at himself for enjoying his predicament.

“Would you greet me like this after a long day of training? Offering yourself to me?” I asked again.

He licked his lips, calming his erratic breathing. With one last defiant stare, he said, “No.”

I nodded and walked away from him. Now he pulled the rope and looked over his shoulder. I place the paddle against his ass, watching it tighten. The cock had a mind of its own because it’s screaming that it would absolutely greet me in this position.

“Count,” I commanded.

“Fuck you,” he snarled.

I slammed the paddle down on his ass with mild force. On purpose. Outside of the cheek flinching, he didn’t react until I heard a slight laugh. A laugh of mockery.

“That’s the best you can do?” He taunted. “I’ve been hit harder by doors.”

My skin tightened, and I spanked him again, twice in a row. Just a little extra force. He chuckled, but his cock trembled, pushing against the settee. I spanked again, harder this time. He didn’t laugh, but his breath sharpened. There was a near imperceptible grinding of his hips. He sought friction.

I placed my hand on his cheek. There was no pinkness, but his skin was warm. He inhaled quickly at my touch, and he lowered his head.

“Don’t enjoy it, Tannor,” I said with a smirk.

Without waiting for his response, I slammed the paddle down once more, stronger this time. His back muscles strained. He said nothing. I spanked him four more times, alternating cheeks before I paused. His skin was blushing pink. I caressed his ass and leaned over him, inhaling the smell of his arousal.

“Your cock is so hard right now,” I murmured to him.

His breathing is hollowed. He pulled the ropes, wordlessly rubbing himself against the cloth.

“Do you like it when I bind you like this? Ass in the air,” I squeezed his cheek, and I’m awarded with a small gasp from him. “Spanked like the naughty boy you are.”

A soft, strangled groan comes from him and I smiled into the skin of his back. Slowly, I lick him, running my tongue up his spine and he lifts himself to his tiptoes, letting out a moan.

“Yes, I certainly think you do,” I chuckled.

“You bitch,” it’s an out of breath whisper.

I stand up and slam the paddle down four times. This time, with my full strength and a sprinkling of magic. He let out a yell, shoving himself forward and nearly losing balance, presenting even more of his ass to me. His cock is weeping, making soft tap, tap noises against the chair. Unable to control myself, I softly caress his sack, which hangs sweetly for me to pet.

“For the love of -” he’s snarling, pushing his ass back into me.

I give the balls a small squeeze and though I’m tempted to press a little kiss to them, I don’t. He’d not earned it.

“Ten more, Tannor. That was just a warmup,” I said. “Take them like a good boy.”

He’s panting, and I hit him with all the strength in me until my arm aches and I’m exhausted myself. By the time I finished, his ass was bright red, his cock was soaked with pre-cum, and he was cursing up a storm.

I leaned forward, feeling the wetness between my own legs, and caress his skin, running my fingers over the reddened flesh.

“Such a good boy for me, aren’t you?” I murmured.

With a yell, he yanked at the rope, and to my surprise, snapped it. I startled back, ready to use my magic. But he shoved himself up and grasped my arms, pulling me to him. He kissed me so passionately I was out of breath, grappling to hold him as he devoured my mouth.

He grabbed my thighs and lifted me up, making me wrap my legs around his waist, feeling his hardness pressing against me in a desperate thrust.

His mouth moved to my neck, nibbling and kissing me with wild passion. I took his face, inhaling his scent, feeling dizzy with want.

“Let me in you, I’m begging you,” his words are desperate.

“You’ve not earned it,” I strangle against the onslaught of his lips down my neck, the squeezing of his arm on my hips.

“I just took forty-seven fucking licks for you,” he snarled.

I pulled back and stared at him. His eyes were so dark and intense that I’m taken aback by how handsome he was. Wild and needy, drenched in sweat and desire.

“You counted,” I whispered as the warmth spreads over my stomach.

He swallowed and slowly nodded. I smiled and kissed him again. My hands reached behind him and I grasped with warm ass cheeks, squeezing them tightly and making him groan into my mouth.

I pulled back, drinking in that look of desperation he was wearing. “Get on the bed. Let me soothe your skin.”

His cock bounced between us, making us both look down.

“Fuck.” Is all he said, his voice dripping with annoyance at himself.