“Why?” he asked. “You’re so beautiful. If I were you, I’d walk around naked showing that off
all the time.”
I smiled uneasily.
“Your pussy is so pink,” he observed. “I like that.”
“Reece . . .”
He gently touched my soft folds, and then I felt his mouth on them. A light kiss.
“I like you in this position. I can see everything. Your ass spread wide. It’s—”
I yelped when his hands grabbed my ass. “—perfection.”
I squirmed against him.
“I make no apologies for loving your ass so much,” he continued, kneading my cheeks and pushing more blood to my face where it stained my other cheeks bright red.
“Reece, I . . .”
He licked me.
Licked
me. I didn’t know what to do. I seized up, trapped on the table, though I wasn’t tied down. I could move. I could scurry across the tabletop to the other side. Then run out the back door and never return.
“Bailey?” I heard from behind.
I couldn’t answer. I had no words. What does a person say to that? How does a person react to that?
“Let’s talk about it,” Reece said.
“No!”
“Bailey, let’s talk about how I just licked your ass.”
“No!”
“Do you think I’m a sexual deviant?” he asked.
I remained silent. He did it again.
“Reece!”
“Hmm?”
“I . . . what the hell . . . why do you . . .”
“Like licking your ass?” he finished.
I said nothing.
“Because I do. And something tells me you do, too,” he said.
I shook my head furiously, but my body told another story. He slipped his finger in me and grunted his satisfaction.
“I thought you liked it,” he said, pumping me gently. He leaned over and whispered, “You’re wet.”
“Shush!” I cried, and lifted myself up on my knees.
“Hey, where’re you going?” he asked.
“I’m getting off this table. I’ve had enough,” I replied curtly.
Reece grinned like the devil. “You get off that table and I’ll paddle your ass all night.”
“This isn’t fair! Why don’t I get to punish you for stuff?!”
“Fine. What do you wanna punish me for?”
He waited, arms folded over his chest while I considered his question.
“Well, I dunno,” I mumbled.
“
Exactly. Now assume the position,” he ordered.
“My knees hurt,” I whined.
“God, Bailey. You make the worst sub,” he replied.
I laughed. “We’re in that kind of relationship?”
“No, but if we were, it’d be terrible.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “Now just trust me. Get up on that table and let me make you feel good.”
I did what he asked and waited to feel his tongue on my ass again. But it went to my pussy instead. He teased me open and explored me with the tip before running his tongue up my crack to my ass. And then back down again. And up again. And down again until I had a difficult time remembering why I was being punished. Or rewarded. Or both.
The whole experience was invasive and embarrassing, and I didn’t want him to stop. I suppose this was Reece’s way of owning all of me. I’d never been wholly wanted, not even by Brian. My OCD was always an issue, always a reason he stayed just the slightest bit distant. But Reece wasn’t like that at all. He wanted in on everything about me, all my secrets—the secrets in my head, the secrets in my heart, the secret places on my body I’d never shared with another man.
I cried out when he slipped the tip of his finger in my ass.
“Hold still,” he said. “Relax.”
I felt my muscles spasm around his finger and tried to relax. But I didn’t know how.
“How?!”
“Calm down,” he said gently. “Just calm down.”
If I screamed at him to remove his finger, I knew he would. Reece played games with me, but only if I wanted him to. The real issue I had to confront was the dawning realization that I didn’t want him to move his finger. At least not out. I wanted him to push it farther into my body.
I couldn’t ask him. I would never live it down. And a part of me wished he’d tie me to the table and violate me however he wanted. Not ask for permission. Not worry about my feelings. At least then I
could pretend to be offended while secretly reveling in his touch.
“Rock back,” he said.
I heard that rumble deep in his throat as I pushed my ass back, encouraging his finger to slide farther in. It burned. I loved it.
“That’s it,” he cooed.
His other hand went to my pussy, and he worked my clit to the rhythm of his thrusting finger—careful, slow. I moaned and writhed against his hands, no longer feeling the sting of humiliation on my face. It still burned, but now it burned with a dangerous sexual desire. I wanted to get off. But I was afraid of what I didn’t know.
My knees dug into the hard table, pinching and shooting painful sparks up my thighs. Rocking my body against Reece’s hands didn’t help, so I tried not moving.
That proved to be excruciating—the intensity of his ministrations immediately doubled. I whimpered and rocked again. It set my knees on fire but lessened the pleasure-pain exploding between my legs. God, my knees hurt! I froze again, and they stopped screaming, but the pressure in my ass built to an unmanageable degree, and I was forced to rock back again.
This was reward/punishment
, I learned. Screaming knees or screaming ass and pussy. I was trapped in a gilded cage—the bird who could have flown away. He always gave me the choice. But I was tempted every time by the beauty of those golden bars. And I always chose this.
“Sweet Bailey,” he said softly. “Stop fighting it.”
He knew I was. He could feel my muscles contracting around his finger, signaling the need for release. And I was fighting, trying to distract the building orgasm by holding still. Then moving. Then holding still again. I didn’t trust myself. I sure as hell didn’t trust my body. How would I come? What would it feel like? Would it be humiliating—his finger deep in my ass?
His hand left my pussy and pushed against my upper back, forcing my face and shoulders flat on the table. The position naturally pushed my ass h
igher in the air and gave me little freedom to rock my hips.
“If you move, I’ll tan your ass,” he cautioned. “And I mean it. I don’t
wanna see you move an inch when you come for me.”
My eyes went wide. I couldn’t do that! It was impossible.
“Reece!” I begged.
“Close your mouth, Bailey,” he ordered.
He resumed his work, tickling my pussy with the tips of his fingers before settling on my clit once more.
“Spread your legs wider,” he said, and I slid my knees farther apart.
Now my inner thighs burned. There was no avoiding the pain. It’s as though he knew it. Knees, thighs, it didn’t matter. He was going to put me in a position to make something burn.
“My thighs!” I gasped,
bucking as best I could against his brutal hands.
“Bailey.”
“My thighs burn!”
His hands were gone in a flash. I winced at the stin
g in my ass that he left behind from pulling his finger out so quickly. I thought it unwise to turn around. Plus I was too afraid. I kept my cheek suctioned to the table, only just then noticing the sweat sliding down my forehead in beaded currents. My whole body was drenched.
I stiffened when I heard him return. He grabbed my wrists roughly and tied them behind my back.
“Reece, it hurts!”
“Stop whining,”
he said into my ear, “or I’ll give you something to whine about.”
Motherfucker.
“I know what you were thinking the whole time,” he said, moving directly behind me again. “You were thinking how much you wanted me to get you off like this. But you’d never say it. You’d never say it because you’re not that kind of girl, are you? But you’re thinking it. You’re thinking how much you want it to hurt when you come. Well, guess what?”
“Untie me!” I demanded.
“I’m gonna give you exactly what you want. And I’m gonna make it hurt far worse than your pretty little head could ever imagine.”
“REECE!”
What the fuck was he slipping around my knee? I couldn’t see, but it felt like rope. This guy was crazy! He pulled it tight around the table leg, then moved to my other knee. Once he had me sufficiently bound and spread open, he left me there. To get a bowl of cereal. Apple Jacks, to be exact, because he was a sick fuck.
He pulled a chair u
p to the table and munched while he observed my face.
“You enjoying this?”
I couldn’t suppress the grin. “You’re such a jerk. And something’s wrong with me that I let you do these things.”
“You think this is reward or punishment?”
“Well, my inner thighs feel like they’re about to snap, so I’d say punishment.”
He swallowed. “I think you’re right.”
“You said you’d give me both,” I reminded him.
“Oh, I will, but tell me this first.”
I couldn’t wait to hear what was about to come out of his mouth.
“Did you like my tongue on your asshole?”
“Fuck you.”
“Hmmm.” He stood
up and slapped my ass. I howled. “Did you like my tongue on your asshole?”
“Yes! Okay?! Yes, I did!” I turned my face away from him.
“Bailey?”
“What?” I snapped.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he replied.
“Maybe no
t for you, but I grew up in the South, buddy. And shit like that is
not
acceptable.”
He chuckled. “
I grew up in the South, too.”
“You grew up in Maryland,” I countered.
“That’s south of the Mason Dixon Line,” he explained.
“Whatever, Reece. My thighs are on fire!” I squealed.
“You’re supposed to beg me for more,” he teased.
“Reece!”
“But the punishment portion of this kinky session is over.”
I sighed relief.
“You want your reward?”
I nodded.
His hand went to my pussy. I’d never been spread so wide before, tied down, completely vulnerable to his sexual whims. He trapped my clit between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed it gently. I bucked, but it was useless. I really couldn’t go anywhere. I think I was just trying to ease the pressure.
“Soft little clit,” he cooed. “Does she like this?”
I let out a ragged moan as another finger slipped inside me, pumping me a few times before moving to my ass. He traced the rim of my hole a few times before slipping his finger inside oh-so-gently. I squirmed and squealed, but he kept up his assault. Thrusting slowly in and out of my ass while he rubbed my clit.
I was knocked underwater by the wave. I couldn’
t stand up on the board in time and missed my opportunity. The water swirled over my calves and thighs, bubbles bursting between my legs and on my face—the final crescendo to this delicious watery score.
I didn’t scream.
Not at first. I groaned—a sound that bubbled up from the depths of my basic self. Animal. Raw. Naked. Wanting. I couldn’t move because of my binds and was trapped in the painful ecstasy of feeling every pop, swell, shoot, burst of orgasmic undoing. And then I screamed. I screamed long and loud to ease the wicked pleasure, but my cries merely heightened it.
“Stop!” I shouted.
The spasms kept coming—assaulting my legs and belly, my heart and brain. He wouldn’t move his hands. He was determined to draw it out until I begged for mercy. He pumped my ass and rubbed me incessantly between my legs as all the pleasure petered out, leaving nothing behind but pain.
“Please, Reece!”
My clit burned then shifted to acute sensitivity. His finger barely grazing it was enough to make me scream until my throat went raw. I stiffened and cried out again.
“PLEASE!”
He moved his hands, and I panted relief. A sheet of sweat blanketed my body. My thighs had given up the fight, but I knew once he released me and I moved, they’d yell at me all over again.
I shook as Reece untied my hands. My shoulders ached, and I stre
tched out my arms above my head in a sort of child’s pose. He untied my legs next, and once I was free, I rolled over slowly onto my side, wincing at my angry legs.
Reece sat down in the chair again and looked me over.
“I’ve never belonged to anyone,” he said. All the playfulness was gone. “No one’s ever belonged to me.”
I was too vulnerable to hear this. I knew I would cry.
“You’ve made me so happy, Bailey. Happier than any man deserves.” He thought for a moment, smiling to himself. The tone in his voice changed. “I think I like to tie you up and do these things because you let me. You trust me. You belong to me.”