Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,203

grin plays across his firm lips as if my reply delights him in a way that I can’t imagine. “Would you like to?” he asks, his deep voice dipping lower than I thought possible.

My heart races as I gaze into his eager expression, my pussy clenching with need. “Yes,” I whisper. I’ve read about the pleasure it can bring. Every scene turned me on with a passion and now I get to experience this sensation first hand. I’m excited to see what it’s like, but also apprehensive. To be completely honest, I’m terrified.

“Come.” Taking my hand, he leads me over to the St. Andrew’s Cross. I watch as he loosens the leather straps on the cross, my legs slightly trembling, my pulse racing. His grip on my wrist is firm as he binds it to the cross. And then the other.

A guard I hadn’t noticed before steps forward, a serious expression on his face.

“Lollipop is her safe word,” Sir says before the guard can say anything, his voice laced with irritation. He doesn’t even turn to face the guard as he straps my ankles to the cross, spreading my legs. The cool air flows up my white dress and my heart stalls as the guard looks at me, searching my face for any objection. I clear my throat and nod, trying to swallow my heart as it tries to climb out of my throat. then he steps back into the shadows. Sir moves on to binding my other ankle, as if nothing had happened. As he tightens the leather strap, a realization washes over me.

This is real.

My heart skips a beat and I swallow thickly. This is not a fantasy that I’ve read about in my books. If he whips me, I’m really going to feel it. I gulp again, my chest rising and falling sporadically. Based on everything I’ve read, I should like it. Love it, even. At least...I hope.

But it’s a fucking whip.

Trembling with anxiety, I watch as Sir grabs a cat-o-nine tails off the wall, the ends of the braided tails look frayed. He holds it up for me to see, before letting the tails tickle down my body, over the pure white silk and down my belly. To my surprise, they’re soft to the touch, but at the same time thick and unforgiving.

My throat constricts as anxiety threatens to overwhelm me and I find myself struggling a little against my binds as sweat beads my brow. I need to chill. I can endure this. I’ve read about it in my books. The pain mixes in with pleasure and you don’t feel it after a while. Or so they say.

I need to just keep telling myself that and I’ll be fine.

He runs the whip along my flesh again and I almost laugh at the sensation. It tickles. But I know it won’t for long. I suck in a breath at the pain I know is coming.

Sir gentles his hand down on my waist, his touch soft and comforting. “Relax, don’t tense your body,” his command is soft at the shell of my ear. His low voice is seductive and washes a sense of ease over me. My breathing still comes in deep, but this time it relaxes me. He relaxes me. I loosen my hands and try to ease my muscles. Relax. I must obey him. Don’t tense.

“I could use this to make you feel … so many different things,” Sir says, his breathing heavy and husky and his eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them. I know he’s turned on by what he’s about to do, but that still doesn’t make me feel at ease.

Without another word. Sir pulls back his arm and then brings it forward with an almost animalistic grunt, the whip singing through the air.

Smack!

I gasp as the air is ripped from my lungs and the thick leather lashes my flesh, my raw cry ripping through the chamber. Fuck! It hurts, the sting bringing tears to my eyes. But at the same time, my nipples harden and my pussy clenches repeatedly around nothing, my breath coming in short, panting gasps as I try to recover.

I pull at the binds as Sir runs his fingers gently over the slight marks. From the pain, I expect the marks to be a bright red, maybe even breaking my skin, but they’re merely a soft pink. All on my upper thighs. The throbbing pain dimming instantly.

His touch is so soft, but it feels like electricity, directly