Vienna Betrayal - Lila Dubois Page 0,28
that.”
“Like what?” He finished with her right wrist, which was now securely bound. Her elbows were slightly bent, meaning no stress and strain on her shoulder like there had been last night.
She’d traded physical comfort for more dangerous bondage.
His choice to use strapping rather than cuffs or safety restraints meant there was no quick release.
No easy getaway.
“Like what, Alena?” he asked again.
“Like the wolf.”
“The wolf?”
“The one who eats Little Red Riding Hood.”
Alexander stood and circled around to her other side. She reached down, groping until she was able to find and grab the handle. A participant in her own captivity.
He crouched and started to bind her left wrist.
“Have you heard that fairytale?” she asked, aware that she was nervously filling the silence, when she should have been practicing deep breathing and relaxing pre-punishment.
Alexander snorted out a laugh. “Meine liebe, die Brüder Grimm waren Deutsche.”
“Right, of course. Wait, I thought you were Austrian?”
Alexander paused, and for a horrible moment she couldn’t remember what he’d said when they first met. Had he mentioned being from Austria, or was that a piece of information she’d brought in with her?
“My family has roots all over this part of Europe.” He finished binding her left wrist. “But that’s not what I want to think about right now.”
“What do you want to think about, Sir?”
He leaned in and nipped her shoulder, then ran his mouth along her side, over her ribs to her waist in a hot, open-mouthed kiss.
When he sank his teeth into her hip, Alena pressed her forehead against the leather and breathed through the sharp ache.
Straps across her calves and ankles bound her legs in place, and the final restraint went across her waist.
Alena could still move her head, though turning to look back at him made her neck and shoulder muscles pinch and protest. Rather than give herself a muscle cramp, she laid her cheek down and closed her eyes.
Warm, firm hands ran up the back of her parted thighs to her butt. He kneaded her ass, pulling the cheeks apart as he did.
Alena shivered and tried to arch her back, raise her ass to tempt him into using her there.
Her body barely moved. She was strapped down tight, truly helpless.
He released her butt, the warmth of his hands disappearing. She heard him step away but could tell from the sound of his footsteps he hadn’t gone far.
“What were they?” she asked without opening her eyes. “The things you were thinking of doing to me. The things that were so…harsh…you thought you should walk away?”
“Open your eyes.”
Alena blinked, looking at him through a veil of her hair, which had fallen over her face. She had no way to brush it back, but she could still see enough to recognize the paddle in his hand.
Her whole body went cold. “That’s heavy impact.”
“It can be.”
“That’s not on my list.”
“We discussed this last night. Your distinction between heavy and light impact implements is imprecise.” Alexander reached out and brushed her hair off her face.
All that did was give her a clear view of what he was holding.
The paddle was long and rectangular. If they were in the US, she’d call it a fraternity paddle.
“I don’t have to justify my limits to you.” The floaty submissive feeling she’d just started to connect with was gone, replaced by sharp fear and panicky irritation. “And you do have to respect them.”
“I respect them.”
“Then put the paddle away.” Her words were authoritative and precise. Ridiculous given her current position.
“Are you afraid of the pain of heavy impact play?”
“Of course I’m afraid of pain. That’s normal. We talked about this last night.”
Why was he retreading ground they’d already covered?
Alexander stared down at her, dark and merciless.
Safeword. Safeword out of this. You’ve already taken this too far.
He stepped closer to the spanking bench, towards her upraised ass, and lifted the paddle.
Alena closed her eyes and braced herself.
Smooth cool wood slid across her ass and down the back of her thighs, then reversed course, coming back to her ass.
Alena exhaled noisily. “You asshole.”
“Watch your tongue.” The paddle rubbed in circles over her butt. “You’re a masochist, but not an extreme one. Is pain what helps you feel submissive?”
Lecturing and psychoanalysis were both fairly common Dom pastimes. She hadn’t figured her quiet man was the type to deliberately poke at her limits in order to see how she reacted.
Alena took a breath, considered giving a playful, glib response, but as quickly as she’d considered it, dismissed it.
“There’s a point midway up the pain