His hand was soft as he rounded my bottom, dipping down towards the part of me that wept for him.
"You’re soaking wet for me, aren’t you?" he breathed.
"Yes," I said, wanting him to dip inside. To feel his fingers plunge into me. But I realized my mistake too late and his hand came down on my backside. The first stung and each one after increased times two. By the time we reached four, I yelled in pain.
"You're nearly there," he said, bringing his hand down twice more with the same intensity. "When you break the rules, you will be punished." He paused. "Yes what?"
I felt the tears spilling down my cheeks. "Yes sir."
"That's right." His hand gently stroked my bottom. "Your color?"
My bottom still hurt, but his fingers were venturing toward my secret place. He was fondling, teasing me with fingers and with every pulse, pleasure latched onto the pain, leaving nothing but ecstasy.
"Green, sir."
With that. he thrust several fingers inside me, my body taking them in and out with thirsty smacks. He ground into me, one hand on my bottom, gripping and stroking, the other fanning the flames of passion inside me. I wanted to buck against him, to take him deeper, but the restraints didn't allow me the luxury. All I could do was moan over and over as my inner muscles squeezed his fingers.
I knew I couldn't do anything without his permission, but the onslaught of him was making coherent thought near impossible and with that, the ability to keep my cl**ax at bay.
"Don't you dare come," he commanded. But he must have felt that my body had a mind of its own because he let out a growl and a few choice words as he increased the rhythm. "God you're so beautiful. So beautiful."
"Oh god," I said hoarsely. "I want to hold on s-sir, but it feels so good."
He ejected from me immediately, but my body was still shaking, still ready to release it all. I let out a squeak as I felt the swing lift and I was hanging a few feet off the mattress. I was floating, feeling my juices drip and gush. I heard him unbuckling, unzipping and he was behind me.
"Don't you dare come until I say so, understood?”
The pressure in the heart of me was threatening to explode at any minute. “Yes sir!” Please say it soon. Please.
As soon as I replied, he thrust into the wet, filling me up and leaving not one part that wasn't possessed. I was his. All his.
He jackhammered in and out and both of us cried out together. With abandon. Screaming. Cursing. My body was shuddering, vaulting to the precipice of ecstasy.
"Please sir," I said in between pants. I never talked dirty, but the words fell from my lips as easily as breathing. "Please let me come on your cock. Please."
He kept slamming in and out of me furiously and I wondered if he heard me. He was like a thing possessed, completely unlike the controlled man outside of this room.
Finally, he let out a roar that reverberated around the room. Through me. "Come, Leila. Come NOW!"
I didn't think it was possible to cl**ax on command, but as soon as he said the words, I felt every part of me shake violently. I could do nothing but remain suspended, a slave to him and the dark desires he stoked as passion consumed me. I could feel the intimate parts of me squeezing him with rhythmic need and just when I began to come down, the warmth of him finding his release swept me back up in the torrent of ecstasy. It was as close to heaven as I would ever be.
When he released me from the bondage system, I slumped against him, more tired than I had ever been. Physically, parts of me I never even knew existed ached. Mentally, my head spun with my actions.
I'd given Jacob complete control of me. He decided when I needed to be "discliplined". I still didn't understand the erotic pangs that echoed over me at the very word. He decided when I needed his touch and where. Savage and possessed or heartrendingly gentle. He even decided when I could let go and give into the bliss of the things he did to me. And in turn I got the most powerful romp....well, ever. Curling up beside him, my body still rocked with aftershocks.
"You did well," he said, his low voice soothing. He brought an arm around me protectively, breathing in and exhaling like this was his heaven. Exactly what he needed. "I've got some cream for your bottom. So you won't bruise from the spanking."
I perked my head up, grinning from ear to ear. "Jacob Whitmore: dominant and bedside nurse."
He leaned in, lips grazing mine until he gave me a kiss as soft as a whisper. "Watch it."
He turned to leave the bed, but I tugged his arm. "Can you hold me for a little while longer?"
He slid back to me, face to face. There was a look in his eyes that made my temperature rise all over again. Like he could go another round or two. Like he just couldn't get enough. When he opened his mouth I was expecting a question that was along the lines of, "Again?", but he said something else entirely.
"You asked me a question yesterday." When I scrunched my face in confusion, he elaborated. "About me and Rachel."
I shook my head. "You don't have to answer it."
"I do," he insisted. "She tried to start a scandal with you at the center, Leila. I owe you an answer."
He wouldn't get any further protests from me. If he was ready to talk, I was ready to listen. "Alright."
"It was about a year ago. And it was over before it even began." His eyes were blue as the sky, ever changing, like he was reliving those moments. "I lost someone very close to me. Lost him before I could square things between us."
I wondered if it was his father, but didn't want to interrupt this rare moment of seeing the man behind the curtain.
"She was coming out of some fresh crisis herself and needed almost constant supervision,” he continued. “We spent a lot of time together."
I bristled at the idea of them being this intimate. Her body strapped in the swing. Beside him. In this very bed.
A smile softened his face as he caressed my cheek. He was reading my mind. "I never brought her here, Leila."
My mouth formed an 'o' of surprise. "I just assumed..."
"She's unaware of my extra requirements in the bedroom,” he said, still smiling. “I can count on one hand the amount of times I shared my bed with her and each time was more vanilla than the last." He let out a sigh. "We had zero chemistry and I ended it."
I could imagine him saying that to her--and the ensuing temper tantrum. "I’m guessing she didn't go quietly into that good night?"