Mastered (The Enforcers 1)

Not pausing in the flogging, he murmured in a husky voice, “I’m going to untie your hands so you can touch yourself while I fuck your ass, but do not get up on your knees or put any weight whatsoever on your stitches. Understand?”

“Yes,” she said with an edge of desperation.

The flogging stopped and he hastily untied her wrists and gently rubbed them to rid them of any residual numbness, and then he took her left hand and slipped it between her and the mattress until her fingers slid over her swollen clit.

There was a squirting sound as Drake squeezed lubricant from the tube and then his thumbs parted the cheeks of her ass. Knowing what was soon to come she began stroking herself, and not a moment too soon as he thrust into her with every bit as much force as he’d entered her pussy.

She began shaking, her fingers slipping, glancing over the sensitive nub as Drake drove her higher and higher and ever closer to ultimate release. Just when she thought she would topple over the edge, he withdrew, leaving her precariously close to orgasm, and she groaned in frustration.

He chuckled and the fire ignited over her ass as the crop descended, taking her breath away. Her chest heaved and she inhaled sharply as the pain faded, giving in to euphoria. She closed her eyes as more blows rained down on her buttocks and she entered a hazy world that blurred around her where only bliss existed.

His hands roughly parted her cheeks and he plunged inward again, but she was too languid to continue touching herself, too lethargic to register the need to do so.

“Touch yourself, babe,” Drake commanded. “I want you with me and I’m about to come all over your rosy ass.”

She stroked lazily, her earlier urgency dissipating. As if sensing her state of subspace, he forwent the roughness of his thrusts and instead stroked long and slow, setting a leisurely pace.

Where before her orgasm had demanded its due, this time she climbed slowly up the peak and when Drake’s fingers dug more sharply into her hips and he swelled even larger inside her, she applied more pressure, determined that they go together. Always together.

Her orgasm flooded her, the sweetest, slowest spasm that encompassed her entire body, setting each nerve ending on fire. She tingled from head to toe, delicious chill bumps spreading over her skin, making her hypersensitive to his every touch.

And when he leaned down and pressed his lips to her spine and licked his way up to her nape, the world tilted around her, blurring in the most exquisite bliss she’d ever experienced in her life.

The warmth of his release flooded her, heating her from the inside out, and then he lifted his head and withdrew, and hot jets of semen covered her back, making her shiver all over again.

For a long moment he stood there between her splayed thighs, and then he gently pulled her arm from beneath her and caressed the length from wrist to shoulder. He pressed a warm kiss to her shoulder.

“I’ll be right back to take care of my angel,” he said in a husky voice.

And then a short time later a warm washcloth cleaned the remnants of his release from her back and then her behind. He took care with the flesh tender from the spanking and his rough and then gentle possession of her ass. When he was finished, he slowly rolled her to her back, mindful of her knee, and she gazed up into eyes that glittered with satisfaction and approval.

“My angel has had a long day and needs to rest now, and there’s nothing more I want than to hold you while you sleep.”

Evangeline woke and promptly snuggled further into the covers, the slight ache in her behind bringing back the delicious pleasure Drake had given her the night before. She had no desire to get up and emerge from the cocoon and into reality and so she lay there for a long while, savoring each moment from the night before.

It was like having the most beautiful dream, one she never wanted to awaken from. And then remembering the ritualistic note accompanied by a ridiculously expensive gift that she’d awakened to every single morning since she’d moved in with Drake, she reluctantly turned, hoping . . .

She let out a sigh when her hopes were dashed. A single wrapped box lay next to a note. Most women would think it terribly romantic, but every time Drake left her a gift, it somehow cheapened their relationship and reduced it to a business transaction. As if he were paying her for . . . sex. When the very best gift he could give her would be for her to wake up in his arms.

She cringed and then sat up, curling her legs up against her chest and wrapping her arms around them, hugging herself as she stared at the offending box.