Chapter 35
Saint is quiet on the drive back to his place, but not distant. His hand is on my thigh, his thumb stroking the inseam of my jeans. He keeps frowning, like there’s something on his mind. I rub my hand over the back of his.
“What’s up? Didn’t you have a nice time?”
“What? No, sorry. Yeah, it was good.” He’s quiet again until we reach his place. “Come on, let’s get inside.”
We get in the flat, and as we get the door closed, he’s on me.
His kiss is powerful, demanding, possessive, and brutal.
He’s never kissed me like this, it’s as if he’s been holding back.
I’m not sure why. His teeth nipping my lip sharply has my dick instantly hard and a groan bursting from me.
I grab his T-shirt and hang on as he grabs my arse and lifts me up.
He sits on the sofa so I’m straddling his hips.
I can feel his hard-on, too, thick and full under the black denim.
He slows the kiss down, leaning back to look at me.
“You were unbelievable. I’m not shocked often but your need to submit, even in front of all the family, surprises me.
You looked so happy on your knees, so right.
It was something I had planned to work up to.
Not at the club—I’m happy to put you on your knees in front of anyone there.
I didn’t expect this, and I’m so proud of you, boy. ”
I try to find the words to explain why I did it.
I wanted him to know how much I love what we are, what we do.
“It just felt right—I wanted them to see what we are, how good we are. Maybe because we’re going to be with them at the club some nights, I don’t think I wanted them to be surprised to see me submit. ”
He chuckles. “So you shock them in their own home.” With a shake of his head, he smiles. It’s his wide, beautiful smile that turns my insides to mush.
“What shall we do this afternoon?” I nudge my hips forward, rubbing our dicks together.
“Hmm, what indeed. Strip.”
“How are you feeling? Ready for this?” Saint has closed the door to the playroom shut.
I can still hear some of activities going on in the club, which means the members can hear what’s happening in here.
The exhibitionist inside me lights up, getting me excited about what Saint has planned for me.
I think, after all the things fun we’ve done in the last twenty-four hours, and how much I’ve loved it all, he won’t be holding back.
“Yes, Sir,” I reply, looking up at him through my eyelashes, something I’ve found out he likes.
“And your safe words, what are they?”
“Green for good and carry on, yellow for slow down, I’m near my limits. Red for stop.”
“What happens if you say red?” He walks around me, trailing his fingers over my back, making me shiver.
“Everything stops, and we talk about how I feel.”
“Good boy, now strip and fold your clothes and place them on the table. Then kneel by the cross.” He points to a highly polished St Andrew’s cross against the largest wall.
Saint removes his T-shirt, leaving him in black jeans and his biker boots. I rush to get out of my clothes and get into position. With my head down, I can’t see what he’s doing, but I hear him picking up objects.
He stands in front of me and runs his hands through my hair before lifting my chin so I can see him. “I’m going to flog you; I’ll take it slow to start with. I have an idea of your pain threshold and want to hear you. Your every moan and cry are mine. You are not allowed to come. Any questions?”
“No, Sir.” I stand up and let him attach my wrists to the leather cuffs on the cross and spread my legs when he nudges them to part. As the last buckle is secured, I take in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of wood polish, and a sense of peace runs through me.
“You look so fucking sexy, all stretched out for me, boy.” Saint’s breath washes over my ear as he leans in and presses his bare chest to my back. “All you have to do is feel.”
I think I should be wary after the stupid stunt I pulled before, but I trust Saint.
I love this man. The fronds of leather swish over my shoulders, then caress down my back, swinging from side to side, up and down.
Then they’re gone, and Saint is kissing over my shoulders from left to right.
I push back into him, my bare arse against the stiff denim of his jeans.
He chuckles, whispering for me to behave.
The leather hits my back, it’s a sting rather than painful, but as Saint picks up speed, working from left to right over my shoulder to my ribs and across my lower back.
I crave for him to hit my arse, but the more I push it out, the more he seems to ignore it.
The impacts have increased, and it’s not as painful as the spanking he gave me this morning.
Crap, how can that have only been twelve hours ago?
“Shit,” I hiss as the pressure revs up, I’m feeling this now.
Every cell in my body is singing. My hips are swaying to the rhythm of the flogger, but Saint has other ideas, and the blows come quicker now.
My back has switched from a pleasant buzz to on fire.
I’m getting close to my limit. Before I can say yellow, it stops, and Sir’s hands roam over the burning skin.
“Beautiful, such a good boy. I think you deserve a prize.” He quickly has the cuffs undone, and I’m on my knees, sucking his cock into my mouth.
His dick slides slow and deep into my mouth and throat.
I cough and splutter as he relentlessly fucks my mouth.
How does he know exactly what I want and desire?
Saint’s fingers tangle in my hair as he holds my head still, the intensity increases, and I know he’s not going to last much longer.
He pulls out and strokes his cock, fisting fast and hard until he cries out and covers my face and tongue with his cum.
I blink, grateful that it’s only my tears not the sticky sting of spunk in my eyes.
I know I must look a mess, but I can’t hold back the smile that spreads over my face. “Thank you, Sir.”
I stay on my knees as Saint moves back and picks up a towel from the table with my clothes.
He gently wipes my face and neck clean and kisses me, a firm kiss that’s full of dominance and power.
“Stand up,” he tells me, helping me up as my limbs seem to have turned to jelly.
We walk over to the bed. “Lie on your stomach, I’ve got some cream for your skin. ”
I groan at the first touch of his hand to my back—the cream is cool on my overheated skin and sooths the burn. I know I’m going to feel the flogger for a day at least, but this is nice. I feel treasured as he tells me how proud he is of me.
“Why didn’t you flog my arse? You knew I wanted you to,” I ask, now lying on my back as he lies next to me.
He’s still touching me, stroking over my chest, flicking my nipples with his fingernails, running them up and down my stomach, swirling them over the Celtic artwork covering my pecs and ribs on my left side.
“I know you did, my greedy boy. You must remember who’s in charge in this room, so if you start misbehaving or making demands, your desires will be ignored.
Also, it’s still too tender from this morning.
It may be better by tomorrow.” The look he gives me is all power and strength, and I drop my eyes.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy. Now, get on your hands and knees, I haven’t finished playing.”