“You can’t,” I protested. “You won’t fit.” I’d already felt almost unbearably full with his fingers stretching me as he drove the plug inside me.
He squeezed my bottom, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave a mark. I whimpered and tried to shift away, but there was nowhere for me to go.
“I’ll fit,” he promised. “Your body was made for me. There’s nothing I can do to you that you can’t accept. That you can’t enjoy. You’re going to come so hard for me when I finally let you orgasm.”
My breaths came hard and fast, as though I was running rather than trapped in place by the cuffs around my wrists. He trailed his knuckles over my aching nipples, drawing a cry from my chest. I arched toward his touch, but he pulled away.
“You’re not going to know the difference between pleasure and pain by the time I’m finished with you,” he rumbled. “You’ll only know that you belong to me, and you’ll give me everything.” He curled two fingers beneath my chin, lifting my face to his. Pale green eyes burned into my soul. “You’re mine, Valentina. Tell me.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m yours, Adrián.”
“Master.”
“What?” I asked faintly. It was hard to focus my thoughts when I was falling into his hypnotic eyes.
His fingers firmed on my jaw, giving me a little bite of pain. My entire world centered on him; he controlled my body. He owned my soul.
“When we’re together like this, I’m your Master,” he said, his voice dropping deeper. The words rolled over me, sinking through my skin to reach deep inside my chest. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Master.” The title felt right on my tongue. My whole life, I’d resented men for wanting to own me, to control me. I gave myself to Adrián freely, because I knew he was mine, too. He’d confessed it without shame as he held me in our bed. This was how it was meant to be between us. He needed my willing submission, my gentler devotion. And I needed his harsh, possessive brand of love. It was the only way either of us knew how to exist. We’d been twisted together, shaped into something perverse by cruel circumstance.
Now that I was back in Adrián’s arms, I didn’t think I’d know how to breathe without him. My heart wouldn’t beat without his.
He wrapped my hair around his fist, tipping my head back. “My sweet Valentina,” he murmured against my lips. “All mine.”
His mouth crashed down on mine, his tongue claiming me in hungry, domineering strokes. I gasped for air, exchanging desperate breaths as though we were one being.
He didn’t relent until my fingers tingled and my head spun. Finally, he slowed the intensity of the kiss, allowing me to come back into my body enough to support my own weight. Even when I regained my footing and he released me, I continued to float in a quiet, blissful headspace where only he existed.
I watched him walk back to the chest, my attention fully focused on his powerful body, the graceful, predatory way he moved.
He selected the next implement for my torment and prowled back toward me. I recognized the riding crop he held in his big hand. He let it hang casually at his side, a natural extension of his arm. My mind no longer buzzed with questions about what he was doing to me or why he wanted to hurt me. I simply submitted, accepting whatever he had planned. I would give him everything he demanded of me, because he’d already given me all of himself. He’d surrendered his black heart to me years ago, and I offered my tattered heart in return. Our ravaged souls fit together: two halves of a whole.
He returned to my side, studying me intently. His beautiful eyes surveyed my body, studying my most intimate areas with hungry fascination.
The crop snapped against my inner thigh, and I yelped at the sudden sting.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded.
I obeyed, easing my thighs apart. My wet arousal coated my pussy lips, and cool air played over my swollen folds.
The soft leather tongue of the crop touched my sex, tracing the open line of my slit before pressing on my sensitive bud. I rocked toward the stimulation.
A fresh wash of pain bloomed on my most sensitive flesh as he slapped my clit. I cried out and edged away. The crop lashed at my ass, driving me forward again.
“Stay still,” he ordered in a low rumble. His voice was heavy with his own desire, but he didn’t take me. He wasn’t done toying with me.
I drew in a breath and tried to remain still.
The crop tapped against my nipples, first one, then the other. He peppered my breasts with light slaps, increasing the intensity as the seconds dragged on. Heat bloomed on my flesh, my breasts growing strangely heavy and hot. My nipples tingled at each direct hit. I thrust my chest toward the blows, inviting more of the decadent stimulation.