Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
She walks toward me.
“Bend over the table, Mandy.”
Again, she obeys without question. Good little sub.
Her wrists are cuffed, but I won’t bind her to the table. Not yet.
I walk to the wall, choose a light flogger. Not a whip. I may never use a whip again after what happened with Blossom.
Instinctively, though, I know I’ll never hurt Mandy. It’s never my intention to hurt anyone, and—
Crap.
Mood killer.
I can’t do this. I walk around to the front of the table and click the handcuffs off her.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m letting you go.”
“No! You promised me. I want this, Jack.”
“I know you do, Mandy. But I don’t.”
She frowns. And it’s not a sad frown. It’s an angry frown. As if something has opened up inside her. “You’re not playing fair.”
“To the contrary. I’m playing very fair. I’m thinking about you. Not about myself.”
“Did I ever ask you to do that? I want this. And if you want this, Jack, think about yourself.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me. You gave me a safe word to guard against that.”
She’s not wrong.
Never—before Blossom the other night—have I distrusted myself here at the club. And what happened with Blossom was because of this woman before me. Because of Mandy. Because I was thinking of someone else instead of focusing on Blossom.
And that’s on me.
“I swear to God, Jack, if you make me leave, I’ll never speak to you again.”
Her words cut me like a knife. We’ve had our scuffles before—sometimes knock-down, drag-outs—but neither of us has ever threatened to cut the other out of their life for good.
Mandy could be speaking from her libido. She’s turned on, and she wants release.
Or she could be serious.
“Mandy…”
She faces me then, cups both my cheeks in her soft hands. “Please, Jack. I want to try this. And if you won’t teach me…”
Someone else will.
Those are the words she doesn’t say. She’s right. I could walk out of this room and into the main area and find twenty people willing to teach her right now.
If she’s determined… If she truly wants to try this…
I must be the one.
“All right, Mandy.”
And inside, I say the words to myself that I don’t say to her.
But you may not want to speak to me ever again after this anyway.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Amanda
I hold my wrists out to Jackson, and he secures them in the cuffs once more.
The fur is at once cool and warm against my wrists.
And I feel…at Jack’s mercy.
It feels right. Oh so right.
“Bend over the table again,” he says.
I do so, and the black leather of the table is cool against my skin. I suppress a shiver. For I know I will be warm soon.
Jackson is behind me. I feel his warmth even though I can’t see him.
Something slides up my back. The flogger Jackson took from the wall earlier. He slides it over each arm, then down my back, over my ass.
Then—
I cry out as it comes down on my ass.
“Okay?” he says.
“More than okay.”
The feathery leather comes down on my ass again. It doesn’t hurt. Not at all. Simply tickles as intense sparks shoot through me.
Do I expect him to hurt me?
Do I want him to hurt me?
I think I do. I think I want to understand what he finds here. Perhaps I want to find it for myself.
“Harder,” I say.
“I decide how hard, Mandy. I make the decisions here. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” I smile as my nerves sizzle beneath my skin.
The instrument hits my ass once more, and this time a bit harder.
I’m not sure this thing can actually hurt a person.
I want to tell him to flog me harder again. But I don’t. I stay silent. I let him guide me. He has my best interests at heart. He always has, and I have no reason to believe that he doesn’t now.
A couple more flogs to my ass, and then his lips feather along my heated skin.
His lips are on the cheeks of my ass, his tongue in my crease as it was before.
Never in my life have I given my ass a sexual thought.
But now?
I want it all. I want what he wants. And he wants to lick my ass.
Clearly he’s enjoying it. And my God, it’s amazing—forbidden and amazing.
I sigh, press myself into the leather of the table, and just enjoy what’s happening to me.
My wrists are bound, and I wish…
I wish I were actually bound to the table, so I couldn’t move. So I could just enjoy what he’s doing to me and not move with or against it.
Now, though? I’m undulating my hips, and it’s so difficult… So difficult not to turn around, even with bound wrists, and throw my arms around him and kiss him.
He moves away from my ass, and I let out a soft whimper at the loss.