“What is it?” I asked. “A feather?”
“There are feathers,” he said. “And little strips of leather all bundled together like a flower at the end of a flexible stick.”
“Um …”
“Technically, it’s a cat toy.” He trailed the feathery end over my sex, making me arch up with surprise and pleasure. “I find playing with this kind of pussy much more interesting.”
“Meow,” I said, and made him laugh.
“Good kitty.” I heard the tease in his voice, and then felt the tease of the toy’s touch. He trailed it all over me, the feathers barely touching my skin, from the soles of my feet all the way up to the curve of my ear. Everything stroked and teased and aroused, and when I was wet and hot and ready to beg him for more, he had me flip to my stomach and started on my back.
“Please,” I said. “Tyler, please.”
“Please what?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. I was on fire. I wanted release. I wanted him. “Everything, I think.”
“Whatever the lady needs. On your knees, then. Arms on the bed, ass in the air.”
“I—” I shut off my words when I realized I had no idea what I’d intended to say. So I shifted my position, did as he said, then moaned with pleasure as he thrust his fingers deep inside me—
And then cried out in surprise when the toy smacked hard against my ass, the sting both shocking and sweet.
“Oh, yes,” he said as my vagina clenched tight around him. “The lady likes that.”
“Yes,” I whispered, as the sting seemed to spill warmth through my body, and my clit throbbed in a demand for attention.
“You’re incredible,” he said. “I love the way your body responds. I could tease you and play with you all day.”
“That works for me,” I murmured as he stroked his hands over my rear in slow, sensual circles, then surprised me again with another smack, this one just a little harder, the pain just a little sweeter.
He pressed his palm to the site, then stroked in easy, soothing circles as the fire that the first strike had sparked spread through me, like warm fingers to light me up and turn me on.
Behind the blindfold my eyes were closed. I’d never expected—never even imagined—such a heightened sense of pleasure coupled with anticipation—of his hand, of his cock, of just one more sting.
I’d thought that the rush I’d felt in the dungeon—naked and collared—had been the highest peak. But this was more.
I’d gotten a thrill from being on display, subject to Tyler’s every whim. But that was an excitement that stemmed from breaking the rules, from being just a little bit naughty.
This was different, and the thrill came not from being naughty, but from being intimate. From being his.
“Again,” I whispered. “Please, Tyler. Again.”
Gently, he pressed a kiss to the curve of my ass. And then, just when I was beginning to think he wouldn’t, that sweet sting came one more time.
He used his mouth to soothe it this time, and I moaned as soft kisses started at the point of pain, then spread out, as if he was lining the threads of pleasure with kisses.
“You like that.” It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t bother to answer. “I like watching you. The way your body quivers. The way your pale skin flushes. I like seeing you go to the edge, Sloane, and I like knowing that I’m the one who brought you there.”
He trailed the feathered end of the toy between my legs, and I writhed shamelessly against it. My body was primed, ready.
He chuckled, as if recognizing my distress. “What do you want?”
“More,” I said. “Everything. You.”
“Good answer. Spread your legs more. That’s it,” he said when I complied. “Just a little bit wider.”
He was still behind me, and I was on the bed, my knees near that edge, my feet just over it. I could imagine the way I looked, legs spread, back bowed, my head tilted up. I was desperately wet, a fact he confirmed when he used his thumb to tease me, sliding it over my labia and slipping it ever so shallowly into me. “Is that what you want?”