Caught Up In You (Edgeplay Part 2) (6 page)

Then it’s over and he cups my jaw as he pulls out, his cock still semi hard, but obviously sated for now. He sinks onto the pillow next to me and pulls my head against his chest, so I hear the pounding of his heart.

We’re both out of breath. My body is thrumming with unspent lust, my breasts practically heaving out of the top of my corset. I need to come, need his hand or his mouth or his cock between my legs. But I’m afraid to ask for it, to make any demands at all. Connor’s touch is magic and it seems greedy for me to ask for more than he’s already given.

Maybe I should just take matters into my own hands.

He moves back, his movements much more relaxed now. “On your hands and knees.”

Oh hell, I forgot about the punishment. Possibly because unfulfilled sexual cravings seemed torturous enough. “What are you going to do?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” He growls and I whimper. Something about sex with Connor strips away all the façade of civility, until I am left with nothing but raw, animal instinct. Leaning forward, I place my hands on the hardwood floor, my body flushed with more than just the heat of the fire.

Connor stands and moves toward the suitcase. “I think the paddle for running out on me and my hand for not trusting me. Ten of each, but I’ll take off five with my hand for making me laugh earlier.”

“Isn’t it the same offense?” I ask.

“You want me to add those five back on?”

“No, Sir.”

“Good. And no, leaving me and not trusting me are two separate behaviors that we need to correct.” Reaching between my legs, Connor unfastens the bodysuit and folds it up to the middle of my back, leaving my lower body clad in only a thong, garters and stockings, nothing that will blunt the hurt he’s about to deliver.

 He sits with his back to the bed and tugs me over his lap. Warm hands smooth over my left buttock in a sensual caress. My sex is wet, ready and I wish we could skip this portion of the evening, not because I’m afraid of the pain, but more due to my burning need for him.

The first blow lands sharper than I was prepared for and I cry out.

“Count,” Connor demands.

“One,” I huff as the sting starts to fade. But my relief is short lived because his hand comes down again on the other cheek.

“Two.”

Three and four fall lower, right between the curve of my ass and my upper thigh. I squirm, trying to ease the discomfort, but Connor holds me tight.

“Your ass is perfect. So soft, so round. I love to watch it jiggle as I smack you, or fuck you.” he whispers softly before delivering the final strike right in the middle. The fabric of my thong falls deeper into the crease. Beneath my stomach, his cock is fully hard again.

“That’s for not trusting me.” Connor says. “I won’t punish you harshly for that, because as you pointed out, I don’t always trust myself. But leaving me….that’s another story.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, because I truly am.

“No, but you will be.” He sets me off his lap and orders, “Bend over the bed.”

Though it’s a struggle, I manage to do what he says and rest my upper body against the mattress with my feet on the floor. Connor moves behind me, tracing the line of my thong through the crevice, pressing in slightly at my tight hole, before moving on to massage my sex.

“You’re dripping wet, Baily. Soaked through your underwear. Should I take them off?”

I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut as he strokes too lightly on my hyperaware flesh.

“Answer me,” he snaps, stretching the material up my body until it presses in tightly against all the sensitive spots.

“Yes,” I gasp and Connor hooks his thumb in the elastic waistband and pulls./ the sound of tearing fabric rents the air and he tosses the ruined thong away.

Everything clenches when his fingers explore my now bare sex. “Please,” I beg.

“So eager,” he murmurs, dipping his thumb into my wet entrance. “But good things come to those who wait.”

I try to force him deeper, but he withdraws completely. There’s a shuffling sound and I glance over to see him opening the packaging of a small dildo. He tips a bottle of pink liquid over the artificial phallus, lubing it and then moves back to me. “Here’s something for you to bear down on. Where do you want it?”

“My pussy, please.” I whimper, pride totally gone.

He slides it home in one swift motion and I clamp down tightly on it, relieved to have something filling my greedy channel.

“Count,” Connor orders as he picks up the paddle and takes aim.

“One,” I cry out, overcome by the strike. I realize that he’s done it this way on purpose. The five strokes with his hand was a warm up to the intensity of the paddle. His hit is harder, and goes deeper with the tool. Had I really believed this wouldn’t hurt, that I could breeze through it?

“Two,” my voice is like a croak as the burn intensifies.

Whack!
“Three.” I clench down on the dildo, the lube he applied, cool in my hot sex. My clit throbs, envying the attention Connor is giving my ass. I don’t know whether to cry or come.

The air actually whistles over the next several blows and everything seizes inside me in the aftermath of each hit. He times them perfectly, not delivering them too close together, just when the burn starts to fade.

“Eight,” I mutter.

“That’s nine, Baily.” Connor drops the paddle and rolls me onto my back. “What’s your safeword?”

“Don’t stop,” I beg, unable to bear the thought of starting over again. I’m so close, so close to having it over with.

“Answer the question.” He shakes me slightly.

“Rosasharin,” I whisper, recognizing the fear in his voice. Connor is genuinely worried.

“Okay. That’s enough.” He pulls me up the bed and tucks me under the covers.

“No, no,” I whimper. “I need you to finish.”

“You’ve had enough. It was too much. I should have reversed it, ten with my hand, five with the paddle.” He’s pacing the room, stark naked, his eyes wild.

I hate that he doubts himself, hate that I’m not strong enough to take what he needs to give me. “I want you to forgive me.”

Setting the suitcase on the floor, he climbs on the bed next to me and settles me against his chest. “Baby, I do. It was my misjudgment, okay? Not your fault.”

“I didn’t know….” I’m not sure what I’m even trying to tell him at this point but he strokes my hair, soothing me. My ass is on fire and the dildo is still lodged in my pussy. I shift restlessly against him.
Connor tilts my chin up so I am facing him, studies my features and then sighs. “I’ll make you come, so you can sleep, all right? But I’m not fucking you. That’s my punishment for pushing you too hard.”

Rolling me onto my back he slithers down mu body, hefting my breasts from the bodysuit. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, while rolling my nipples between his fingers. The sharp little tugs make me clench the dildo and whimper. “Connor, please.”

“Okay, love, it’s okay.” He moves down, pushing my legs apart and sucks my clit between his lips.

I cry out, back bowing up off the bed. He grips the phallus and pulls it back, before shoving it seep again, fucking me with the faux cock wile tonguing my clit.

I splinter, coming in a rush, hard and fast, clamping down on the dildo, wiggling under the onslaught of his mouth. It’s perfect and exhausting. I sag back onto the bed.

Connor removes the sex toy and laps at my opening until I whimper. He rolls away.

I want to thank him, for coming after me, for forgiving me, for granting me this boon of perfect pleasure but my brain is shutting down fast. I don’t like that he’s punishing himself, he does that too much. “You can’t always blame yourself,” I whisper as he settles back in next to me.

As I drift off, I hear him say. “I can when it’s my fault.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

I
awake from the best sleep I can remember with a huge grin on my face. Memories from the night before have my blood pumping until my skin is flushed and my sex is ready for another round. I roll back, reaching for Connor and sigh with contentment when I see he’s already awake.

“Good morning.” he says a bit stiffly.

Seeing the confusion in his eyes, I ask, “Do you remember?”

“How we got here? No.”

Closing my eyes, so he doesn’t see my disappointment, I ask. “What’s the last thing you do remember?”

“Dancing with you, then being called away to the phone.”

“Shit,” I say, my heart sinking. I really didn’t want to have to explain it all to him, how I thought he’d abandoned me, his reaction, and then his perceived failure of the night before.

“Did we…?”

I open my eyes at his hesitation. No matter how uncomfortable this is for me, Connor has it so much worse. Reaching out, I run my hand down his arm and try not to react when he flinches slightly at my touch. “Did we what?”

He clears his throat. “Have sex?”

“Depends on how you define sex.”

He appears relieved until his gaze lands on the suitcase and all the color drains from his face. “I didn’t restrain you did I?”

“No, Connor. I promised you yesterday that I wouldn’t let you tie me up.” All my joy is gone, replaced by weariness that this man, who I’ve given myself to completely, can’t remember any of the times we’ve been intimate. Throwing back the covers, I grouse, “I need coffee.”

A strong hand on my arm stops me and I turn back at him. His eyes are glued to my ass, which I’m sure is still red from his attention. “Baily—”

I wait patiently while he struggles for words, but eventually my tolerance is exhausted. “Just, give me a minute, okay? This isn’t easy for either of us.”

Scooting into the bathroom, I shut the door, turn on the hot water and then pull a towel off the rack to stifle my sobs.

Why? Why does it have to be like this? I’d been prepared to fight the good fight this morning, prove to him that he hadn’t pushed me too far. That I could have handled his punishment, actually wanted to if it meant it wiped the slate clean. But to discover someone pressed the reset button and I woke in bed with a man who not only didn’t remember the way he’d pursued me the night before, but actually seemed relieved when he found out we hadn’t had sex.

I’m falling in love with a man who only exists part time.

Steam fills the air in the bathroom and as tempting as it might be to hide in here until the other Connor—my Connor—comes back, I know I can’t do it.

This Connor may not want me with the same fervor, but he did admit he’s drawn to me. He’d chased me into the woods and bought me a dress. He’d called me Cinderella and danced with me and given me a great deal of money for my own safety. He’s a good man with a problem and deserves the truth from my lips.

 

I take a long shower, trying to ease the tension in my muscles and then take time to blow dry my hair. Wrapping myself in a towel, I emerge from the bathroom. Connor and the sex toy suitcase are gone but there is a shopping bag on the bed. A periwinkle blue two piece bathing suit and a midnight blue sundress are in the bag, along with a pair of silver sandals.

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