The Priest (The Original Sinners #9) - Tiffany Reisz Page 0,78
enjoy it so much when you’re in this kind of pain,” he confessed. “But I do.”
Four.
He struck her again, even higher, closer to the toes.
Nora’s head swam. She thought she might actually pass out.
“Flex, Eleanor. Flex.”
She couldn’t. She was in so much pain, she couldn’t make the muscles in her foot move.
“Oh, fine,” he said. “I’ll do it myself.”
He took her toes in his hands and pushed, forcing her foot to flex.
“Now keep it there,” he ordered.
She did.
Five.
He hit the ball of her foot.
“Five,” he said. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
He set the stick down on the table again and Nora shuddered. She shuddered because he’d started rubbing her foot, tenderly stroking all the burning places.
“I know you hate this,” he said softly. “And deep down, a small part of me hates myself for how much I enjoy it. Sometimes I wish it didn’t have to be like this. You understand?”
With the leather strap still clenched between her teeth, Nora could only nod, so she did.
“But,” S?ren said, “it is like this. And we have five more to go.”
He picked up the misery stick again.
The last five hurt as badly as the first five, but she took them better, mostly because she was nearly out of her mind with pain. At five, she went limp, as limp as a rag doll or a corpse. She barely felt it when S?ren cupped her between her legs, pushed his fingers inside her.
“And this is why I would never let you leave me,” he said, rubbing the aching hollow of her g-spot with the tips of two fingers. “You hated that with every fiber of your being…and yet you’re dripping wet.” He pulled out and unhooked the spreader bar. She hardly noticed when he removed the leather strap from her mouth.
“You nearly bit through it,” he said. He sounded impressed. Nora rolled into the fetal position, toes curled, feet aching. He pulled her to him and held her back against his chest.
“You can cry if you need to.” He spoke softly into her ear as he ran his fingers through her sweat-damp hair.
“I hate that so much,” she said, a small sob escaping her throat.
“I know, Little One. I know you do.” He slid over her, on top of her and positioned her under him. He was so aroused, she felt the tip of his erection against her stomach, throbbing like it wanted to force its way into her, any way it could. He kneed her thighs open and she was too weak to stop him, even if she wanted to.
S?ren braced himself over her and, through watering eyes, she saw him lick two fingertips and press them against her vulva. He pushed through her folds and into her vagina. She yielded to him easily, her body offering no resistance. He’d given her permission to cry and she took it, hot tears she couldn’t stop rolling down her cheeks.
She was still crying when he entered her, splitting her. His thick cock went deep on the very first stroke. She cried out again, in pleasure this time, not pain.
Sometimes she hated herself, too. But not very much.
S?ren found her mouth and kissed her, his cock slipping ever deeper into her as they kissed. Since her feet hurt so much every time they brushed the sheets, she wrapped her legs around his lower back as he thrust into her. They fucked in a frenzy, and the need was as much as hers as his. His hands dug into the tender flesh of her breasts as he held them, squeezing them as he rode her.
It wasn’t enough to let him have her. She had to have him in return. Nora clung to his shoulders and, with her legs twined around him, she lifted her hips again and again, taking his cock as hard as he gave it to her. The pain wasn’t the thing. She wasn’t aroused by having her toes stepped on by a stranger in a crowd any more than she was aroused by the strike of a metal bar on her insoles. It was him, S?ren, and who he turned into when he let himself free with her. The master. The monster. The beautiful sadist. That was the secret she never told anyone, not even herself, that she loved him more for his cruelties than his mercies. He was kind to everyone he met. He was only cruel like this to his lovers.