Chapter 10 #2
I can’t help but moan as he glides his hand lightly over my skin, and I find I’m trembling in anticipation every time he lifts his palm again. The intensity of it all makes my heart race, and I feel suddenly as if I’m going to cry. I’m not sure why.
I arch my back when he trails his fingers over my panties. My heart gallops.
Okay, so that didn’t take too long for me to realize why people like this.
“But if this wasn’t for fun, we’d have another kind of talk,” he says sharply. My pulse spikes in warning a split second before he tugs my panties down my legs until they dangle from my ankles. “You’d be punished for disobeying me.”
A flare of warning shoots through me.
Seconds later, he gathers my wrists in his hands and secures them at the small of my back.
I open my mouth to gasp and feel the sudden inexplicable need to flee when he slams his palm against my ass.
I open my mouth to protest in some way but find I can’t breathe.
He spanks me again, obviously quite experienced at this, as he holds me in such a way that it’s absolutely impossible for me to get away.
I bend and squirm and try to escape, but there’s no way I can possibly do that. “Thayer!” I gasp. My ass is on fire. This is nothing like I imagined, but I can’t even think anymore because every time I open my mouth to breathe, I can’t think about what I’m going to say.
I find myself tensing in anticipation now, as his palm slams down harder and faster, leaving a burning sensation in its wake. I squirm and try to wriggle off his lap, to escape the next strike, as smacks rain down and the spanking continues.
“If you were mine,” he says through gritted teeth, “I would spank you until you fully submitted to me, until you begged me for forgiveness and promised never to do it again.”
“I’m sorry!” I manage to say. A sense of surrender and remorse floods me.
I’m only aware of him stopping the punishment when I feel his hand come to rest at the small of my back. To my shock, I find my cheeks wet with tears as I release the tension I’ve held onto. I find I’m crying freely now as a flood of emotion sweeps through me.
My skin feels flaming hot and flushed as he gently runs his hand over my ass.
“There,” he says. “Now you know. That’s what I would do if you were mine.
” I try to stop my tears, but I find now that I’ve let them go, I have no power to stop them.
All the fears I’ve buried surface—fear that I’d be captured by the murderers and tortured, killed needlessly like the lifeless officer who lay on the ground like discarded rubbish.
Fear that I’d be abandoned by the only person who ever loved me, now that my sister’s married and will start a family of her own.
Fear that I’m not enough, that no number of degrees or accolades or praise will ever make me feel successful or adequate, that I’ll forever be striving.
To prove myself worthy. To finally be safe. To find myself love.
“If you were mine,” he says in a voice I hadn’t heard from him yet, soft and gentle, “I’d hold you when we were done.”
Wordlessly, he turns me over and lifts me. I’m a mess, but he doesn’t seem to care as he tucks me against his shoulder and hands me a tissue.
“I would tell you to let it all out. I would tell you I know that must’ve been hard for you, but you’re so strong.”
A rush of emotions I can’t quite separate floods me, as I let myself go and lean against the strong wall of his chest. I’ve wanted this for so long.
I’ve been so lonely, so isolated. His arms wrap around me so that I’m completely engulfed, rendering escape impossible.
Strength emanates from him. A comfort without strings or expectations, uncomplicated and reassuring.
Is this what it means to be vulnerable?
Is this what it means to be cherished?
Finally, I stop crying. When I hiccup, he reaches for my chin and makes me look at him.
“Feel better?”
I nod.
He bends and leans toward me.
“You can’t kiss me now,” I protest, horrified at the thought of him kissing me now with my tear-stained, reddened face.
“If you were mine,” he says for the hundredth time, the vibration of his voice making me shiver, “you wouldn’t tell me not to kiss you or touch you.
Your body would belong to me, Savannah. I would do with it what I wanted and when I wanted.
You would know you could trust me. That I would take care of you. ”
I nod. “It would be quite an experience being yours, wouldn’t it?” I whisper.
I love the way his eyes crinkle at the edges when he gives me a rare smile. He doesn’t answer me but leans in closer and brushes my lips with his. I want to protest. I want to tell him not to kiss me.
I want to tell him if he does, I might fall in love with him.
But I don’t. I lift my face to his and welcome the kiss.
“If I were yours,” I ask, as I lay my head on his chest, vividly aware of the tingling sensation in my belly at our nearness, the way he smells like masculinity personified, the warmth of his hardened erection pressed up against my ass, “would aftercare include making love?”
It wouldn’t be just sex, but so much more.
“How do you know what aftercare is?”
“I told you. I’ve read the books.”
“Fuck,” he growls. “Yeah, baby. Aftercare would include sex.”
It’s all he needs. He frames my face between his hands and holds my gaze before he kisses me so fiercely, it takes my breath away. His tongue plunders my mouth, eliciting a moan as the tingling in my belly flares like a match to paper.
Somehow, he’s made me vulnerable and made my senses more acute.
Everything feels more vivid, more intense, more beautiful.
He moves his hands to my hair and weaves his fingers at my scalp before he tugs my head back, little eruptions of pain along my scalp where he pulls my hair.
When I moan at this, he grabs a fistful and pulls harder.
A spasm of pleasure rips through me. I didn’t know I could be so blissed-out by pain like this.
I reach my hands to his arms and drag them down the length of his muscled forearms as if to hold him back, but I’m holding on for dear life.
My world is brighter, vibrant and colorful, my senses sharpened and vivid while he takes me through a myriad of emotions.
My panties lay on the floor, forgotten. My red-hot ass scrapes against his crotch, but I somehow welcome the pleasure-pain of it all.
He releases my mouth only so he can dip his head to my breasts.
He tilts me back so my chest is bared to him, before he licks one of my hardened nipples.
I squeal from the exquisite torture of pain and pleasure when he bites me before pulling my nipple between his teeth and suckling.
“You’re a fucking goddess,” he whispers, before he licks my nipple. “I’ve imagined what you’d look like naked and dominated.”
No way. He’s thought of me that way before?
“Have you imagined what it would be like to fuck me?” I ask him.
“Savannah,” he warns, shaking his head. “Don’t fucking tempt me.”
“What are you going to do, spank me? You already did that,” I say, leaning forward so I can kiss his collarbone. I love the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, telling me that I’m affecting him. “Why do you have to be all stoic?”
“You know why.”
I sigh and lean my head on his chest again. “Why don’t you trust yourself, Thayer? Why do you hold yourself back? Yeah, I’m confident Nicolette and Fabien wouldn’t approve, but last time I checked, I’m an adult. So it can’t be that.”
Instead of answering, he bends his mouth to my chest again and begins to lick and suckle my nipples. I forget what I was even thinking as my head drops backward and I surrender to the heated pulsing of my body under his command.
“Touch yourself,” he whispers. “Touch yourself while I hold you and play with these fucking perfect nipples. I want to look into your eyes when you climax.”
I’m still facing him, straddling him, while I obey. My hand shakes as I reach for my pussy while he stares into my eyes.
“Do exactly what I say,” he orders.
I nod. I can’t breathe as I hold my breath and start to stroke. My hips buck with the first wave of bliss, as he bends his mouth to my nipples again. I had no idea I was this turned on, but I’m already swollen and wet, so ready to come.
My need to climax builds as he licks my left nipple and squeezes the right. “That’s it, babygirl,” he whispers against my naked skin before he resumes suckling. I whimper and turn away, as if somehow that will help the growing need to come.
I cry out when I feel the bite of pain on my nipple. “Eyes on me,” he growls. “You heard what I said to do.”
With every ripple of pleasure, I feel so exposed I want to hide. I feel bared and open, but I want to please him. I want him to know I won’t disobey him, not again.
But I’m not his, I think to myself, while he tortures my nipples and my body teems with pleasure and need.
He pulls his mouth off my nipple long enough to warn me, “If you take your eyes off of me, I won’t let you climax.”
I open my mouth to ask him how exactly he’ll prevent me from making myself climax, but then think better of it. Something tells me he knows exactly how to do that, and at this point, I don’t want to find out.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, holding my gaze. “I can’t take my eyes off of you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Keep stroking, baby. I’ll reward you for being a good girl.”
I stroke and moan, my hips jerking of their own accord.
“When you’re with me, Savannah, you enter my world. I’ll teach you what it means to submit.” He leans down and whispers against the curve of my ear, “Come, Savannah. I want to watch you while you climax.”
At his words, I shatter. My body explodes into pure pleasure. I’m swept away in a tidal wave, enveloped in such a blissful sensation of euphoria, I lose total control over my body and slump against him.
“Good girl,” he whispers as he holds me. “Good girl.”
Now I know what Thayer meant when he said he would destroy me. He’s ruined me for anyone else.