Tormented

“Mercy!”

“That’s not it.”

She glared at him, rightfully angry. He had never ignored a safety word before.

He removed the other nipple cup, turned the setting on the wand higher and ground it into her nipple.

She would have leaped out of her skin if she could.

“Fuck! Ahhh!” she sobbed.

He decided to give her some relief. He could be a sadistic son of a bitch, but he wasn’t a pure sadist. Turning the setting back down, he put the wand to her clit. Her harsh gasps soon turned to liquid moans. He kept the wand at her clit till pleasure washed away discomfort. The adrenalin would be coursing heavily through her, amplifying her arousal. His groin tightened. There was nothing sexier than a woman ready to come, wanting to come.

“Ohhhh,” she cooed as the wand worked its magic.

“It’s going to feel so good when you come,” he encouraged.

She moaned in agreement.

“That orgasm is waiting for you. It’s yours. All you have to do is give me the truth.”

She moaned in despair.

He took away the wand and turned it off. “You’re so close to coming, pet. I can see it in the way your body quivers.”

She took several shaky breaths before saying, “What happened to fucking me?”

Her response surprised him.

“Didn’t I ask—didn’t I beg for it?” she added.

He stared into her eyes. She meant it. And it was so fucking hot.

He didn’t mind the shy women, whose demure glances hinted that they wanted to be taken. But he liked his women bold. Unafraid to verbalize what they wanted. It was different from the culture he had grown up with.

And of course he wanted to fuck her. He could do nothing else but fuck her for the rest of the day. But he wasn’t done toying with her. What was a Dom to do?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

By his pause, Kimani guessed that he hadn’t expected her response. Most likely he expected her to give in. She wanted to give in. She wanted to come so badly—so, so badly. Her body had been dangling on the edge for so long. It deserved to let go and fall into the pool of carnal bliss.

“Fuck me,” she dared.

He blinked several times. He seemed to hesitate. She had never seen him unsure of himself.

“You sure you want that, pet?” he returned.

It was her turn to doubt. But she didn’t want to return to the nipple torture. And maybe, if he was buried inside her, he would want to stay until he orgasmed, and hopefully she would, too.

“Fuck me already,” she spat, before he changed his mind.

Setting aside the wand, he

yanked her as close to the edge of the table as the cuffs would allow. He took out the egg and rammed his cock in its place.

The force of it made her teeth chatter. Maybe she had spoken too soon.

The following thrusts were gentler, and she exalted in the sensation of being filled by him and nothing but him, flesh to flesh. He felt so good. So, so good. The only thing she could do without were the clothespins. They jiggled whenever he thrust into her, accentuating the pinch. But the rapture he coaxed held sway over any discomfort.