The Flirtation (The Submissive 10)

The panic didn’t have a chance to grow, not under Simon’s watchful eyes. He must have noted her body tense again, because his hands were back on her. This time, he rubbed both shoulders in an impromptu massage. She closed her eyes; it felt so good, and she wondered what was making the humming noise she heard, until she realized it was her and stopped.

“Don’t be quiet on my account,” Simon said. “I like hearing how I make you feel.” Then, as if to prove his point, he proceeded to place kisses along her spine.

He took a step away, and she braced herself for whatever he had planned. When he brushed her back with the soft tails of two floggers, she decided to give up trying to guess his next move and just enjoy the moment.

He proceeded as if they had all the time in the world, doing nothing for what seemed like forever except running the tails over her body. Little by little it seemed as though her body liquefied under his touch. She was certain the only things holding her upright were the bonds he’d placed her in.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So soft and accepting.”

She didn’t answer because he knew he was right just by observing her. The next time he took a step back, she didn’t move at all, but remained in her almost Zen-like trance.

He started with two floggers. She was able to tell that much, but he went easy at first, with movements that brought the tails to her with solid impact, though there was a certain softness to his ministrations. It actually felt like a continuation of the massage.

Daniel had been good with the flogger, but nothing she’d ever experienced felt anywhere as good as what Simon was doing now. She thought it was sort of like how she’d heard you should cook a lobster: gradually turning the heat up by doing it so slowly, the lobster didn’t understand what was happening to him until it was too late.

It had to be similar. The sound of leather hitting skin exactly matched the strikes she felt and she knew they were no longer soft or gentle. Yet her mind was shouting, “Green, green, green.”

“You’ll get more when I’m ready to give it, greedy girl,” he said. Apparently, it hadn’t been only her mind shouting.

“Please, Sir,” she added because she wasn’t above begging.

“Begging for me to whip you? Are you sure?”

She wasn’t sure she’d ever wanted anything more. “Yes, Sir.”

“The massage and the sensual flogging were for you, to prepare your body to take what I’m about to give it.” When he pressed against her, the rough material of his blue jeans provided the friction she craved. Unfortunately, Simon picked up on that very thing and moved so there was no way for her to get relief. She pulled helplessly on her bonds, but they were secured, and she swallowed her groan, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to verbalize how desperately she wanted his jeans, right there, on her swollen clit.

“Not just yet,” he said. “I’m only getting started, and I’m nowhere near close to letting you climax.”

She didn’t even try to swallow her groan at that. She’d been almost certain he’d let her come at least once before he used the whip. Moving quicker than she thought possible, he fisted her hair and pulled her head back in a move that turned her on so much she thought for a second she didn’t need friction. If he kept that up, she’d come simply from him pulling her hair. “Is that a complaint?” he all but growled. “Because if you were good, I thought I might fuck you after, but if you can’t be good . . .”

“I’ll be good,” she babbled. “I promise. I’ll be good.”

He nipped her ear with his teeth and she swore she felt it all the way to her clit. “Sir, you’re going to make me come,” she whined, grateful for the first time that he had tied her legs apart. If he hadn’t, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’d be rubbing them together, well on her way to both orgasm and punishment.

“You like it when I pull your hair?” he asked, jerking it back again.

The pull only magnified her need. “Yes, Sir,” she whined.

“Such a wicked girl, aren’t you?”

“Only for you, Sir.”

He chuckled and let go of her hair. “Good answer.”

Her body was on high alert while he moved behind her, but she didn’t tense up this time. She wanted him to whip her, needed the feel of the release that would come with it. Fortunately, he didn’t make her wait. Without any warning, the whip landed on her butt. The sharp pain diffused into warm pleasure, and she heard herself beg for more.

She felt like she was surrounded by a million flying insects, each one biting her, but the pain and the pleasure merged so well, she couldn’t tell which was which. She only knew she wanted more. His strokes increased, and like before, she started to giggle, letting everything inside her bubble up and allowing it to escape with the giggle.

The sound didn’t affect Simon at all. He kept landing stroke after stroke: across her butt, along her inner thighs, and almost delicately on her back. He hadn’t been lying. It hurt, but it was a different type of pain, and it was turning her on.

Just as suddenly as he’d started, he stopped. She didn’t have the opportunity to complain, because he pressed himself up against her. He wrapped his fingers in her hair, and there was nothing gentle about the way he pulled her head back.

“I like to hear your giggle,” he said. “It makes the Dom in me pleased. But the sadist in me needs more. He needs to hear you scream. I’m only going to give you five more, but they’ll be the hardest yet.”

How was it possible to be turned on so much by those words? His lips trailed down the back of her neck, and at the nape, he bit her. She shivered in need. “Yes, Sir. Please.”

He ran a hand down her body, pressing slightly on the lines he’d left with the whip. “Such a good girl.”

Then get to it already, she wanted to yell, but chose instead to pull on her bonds.

She was unaware he’d moved back into place so quickly, and the sting of the whip on her right butt cheek caught her off guard. She could barely process the pain before its twin landed on the left side and she yelped.

“Getting there,” Simon said.

She braced herself for the last three, but they never came. Instead, Simon took a few steps and cupped her pussy.

“Think you can come from my whip alone?” he asked.

Her mind went blank momentarily.

He was going to . . . ? On her . . . ?

She suddenly realized how very, very exposed she was. There was nothing hidden from him, and she was so very vulnerable. “No, Sir. I don’t think . . . that is . . . I’m not sure . . .”

“I didn’t hear a red in there, so unless I do, I owe you three more, and I’m going to see if I can get you to come.”

“Yes, Sir.” She didn’t want to tell him that there was no way on the face of the earth that she could come from a whip. On the other hand, he seemed awfully sure of himself. “It’s just if you want to get me off—”

He still had his hand between her legs, and one of his fingers was getting very, very close. Almost. Almost.

Just a little bit more.

He stepped away. “Trying to tell me how to get you off, girl?”

She could have shouted at him. How could he get her so damn close to release and then leave her like that? But the tail end of the whip stuck her inner thigh, and ohmygod it hurt, but it was a beautiful, hazy kind of a hurt that made her see stars, and she wanted it again.

“Please, Sir,” she said, and was rewarded with the same thing on the other thigh.

Holy hell, she hadn’t ever experienced anything that even remotely felt like that. She wanted more and she wanted him inside her and she wanted to grind against him so he could get as deep as he could. But mostly she just wanted.

She wasn’t exactly sure where the last strike of the tail landed. All she knew was that her release hit her in a wave of white light and a loud squeal, and she knew she’d broken into two million pieces and she just didn’t care, because even if she somehow got put

back together, she would never feel anything that amazing again. She laughed because the thoughts were spinning around her head in so many different directions and she had no clue what any of them meant.

“Lynne?” Simon was all around her, everywhere, but she couldn’t hold her eyes open any longer. “Lynne?”

Two million pieces. “More like Humpty Dumpty.”

• • •

Out of all the possible outcomes to the scene, Lynne passing out was not one Simon had ever considered. He quickly unbound her, while yelling for someone to get a blanket. He picked her up in his arms, muttering his thanks when someone dropped a blanket around her.