Initiation (Master Class, #1) - Sierra Cartwright Page 0,27
a deep breath, held it for a few seconds then breathed out.
“Bravo.”
Jennifer stayed in position, though she curled her toes under. The sound came from a distance, which meant he had been watching her. For how long?
He walked into the living room, stood in front of her and placed his bag on the floor near her.
Then he went behind her and traced his fingertips up the insides of her thighs. It took all her control to remain in position.
“Still no marks.”
“No?” Suddenly she wanted one, at least one to remember the weekend by.
He ran a finger across her clit, and she clenched, getting wet, wanting.
Before she could move against him, he removed his hand.
“Sir!”
“Quiet.”
He left her to turn on the fireplace before facing her.
She hazarded another glance his direction to see him standing with his back to the flames, arms folded across his chest, jaw set, eyes narrowed, gaze focused on her.
It took all her concentration to remain in place, waiting on his pleasure, sub to Dom.
Mind fuck.
“Spread your legs as far as you can.”
Once she had, he returned to her and unzipped the bag.
In her peripheral vision, she saw exactly what he doing. He pulled out cuffs then bent to secure her ankles to the table legs.
Next came the clamps.
He took his time playing with her breasts and teasing her nipples into tight little buds. This time, he didn’t ask before letting the Japanese clovers bite into her flesh.
She sucked in a breath but didn’t protest.
And when he teased her pussy, the pain faded, becoming pleasure before blooming into the sharpness of need. “Sir…”
He immediately dropped his hand.
She gritted her teeth. And she stared as he removed a tawse.
“Remind me of your safe word.”
“Will I need it?”
“Potentially.”
She tightened her muscles and tried to press her thighs together. “Marshmallow,” she whispered.
“I’m going to push you harder than I have before. Three strikes on each thigh. Keep your hands on the tabletop. Unless you’d like them tied together?”
“No.”
He dug his hand into her hair.
“I mean, no, Sir. I’ll keep my hands in place.”
“Better.”
She was aware of him taking a small vibrator from a side pocket. He tucked the tawse beneath his arm before cleaning the toy with an alcohol wipe. Then he turned the vibrator on to a low hum and pressed it against her clit.
“Oh… Crap.”
He flicked the metal chain of her clamps, and she jerked to one side, only to be stopped by the ankle restraints.
After moving the vibrator aside, he seared the inside of her right thigh with the double-stranded tawse.
Before she could protest, he put the vibrator back against her clit.
He flattened his palm between her shoulder blades for a moment to reposition her. Before she could orgasm, he once again took away the vibrator and marked the inside of her left thigh.
The area burned, but the pain quickly receded.
She pushed her hips back, silently asking for the stimulation again, hoping he’d relent and get her off.
But the wicked Dom refused.
Instead, he laid the tawse to the outsides of her upper thighs before tugging on her clamps.
She swayed, bucked, screamed.
“So fucking hot,” he said.
As if completing a design, he scorched her skin, right beneath her buttocks.
The tawse clattered to the floor.
From behind, he finger-fucked her, circling her clit with the vibrator and going inside her wet cunt, knuckles-deep with each thrust.
She was going out of her mind, from the horrible burning sensation on her skin to the evil grip of the clamps.
Even last night, she hadn’t experienced anything near this intense.
He overwhelmed her.
“Logan…” She shook her head and immediately regretted it when the clamps swayed again.
“Master Logan. Use the right term if you want something, otherwise we can stop right here. Now.”
“Master Logan,” she said. “You’re going to make me come.”
“Oh yes. I am.”
He pushed the vibrator fully against her, spreading her labia, throbbing against her clit a dozen times a second. He continued his relentless sensual thrusting, splitting her apart.
She screamed as the climax rocked her from the inside out.
The world shattered, went bright, then… Nothing. Silent. Still. Empty.
He released her ankles then the clamps before helping her to stand.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“I love a fast learner.”
He helped her to the couch where he pulled her into his lap and rubbed her arms against the chill.
Outside, a storm now raged. Wind whipped the snow sideways, obliterating the view of Denver. It was as if they were sealed off from the rest of civilization.
She recalled his earlier response when he’d talked about keeping the civilized world separate from