The Darker Side of Pleasure (23 page)

He held the whip in his hand, ran his palm up the slender length of it. Black and wicked-looking, the single-tail was a high pain toy. It delivered a unique sensation that started as an intensely sharp sting at the point of contact, then slowly spread outward, so that the effects of each strike took a full minute or two to ride out. He normally would use it only on a more practiced bottom, but he had a feeling she could take it. He was rarely wrong. And he wanted to give her that extreme sensation experience. He wanted to give her everything she desired.

He moved around behind her, coiled the single-tail in his hand, then flicked his wrist. The whip snapped in the air.

Cassandra jumped.

He smiled. He could see the goose bumps rising on her flesh already.

He moved in, laid a hand between her shoulder blades, felt her shiver beneath his touch. Christ, her skin was like pale satin. The skin here was almost as silky as the slick folds of her hot little pussy. His groin tightened just thinking about it, remembering the texture and the scent of her, his fingers buried inside her.

He said quietly, “This is going to hurt quite a lot.”

Again that silent shiver from her.

“You’ve already been taught about converting the pain. But this will be a real test, this whip. It’s called a single-tail, or a snake whip. In the end you’ll have a burst of endorphins like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You’ll never forget this little toy. I’ll take you through it. You will follow my direction. Do you understand, Cassandra?”

“Yes…Sir.” Her voice was a breathy whisper.

He came around to the front of her body. Her eyes were cast down. He lifted her delicate chin in his hand, as much as he could with the posture collar on. Her eyes were still glazed, unfocused. He could see she was deep down in sub space. Her features were so sweet, so innocent-looking in comparison to her lush body; the full breasts, the curve of her hips.

But it was her mouth he kept going back to.

He leaned in and kissed her. Just a small brush of lips against lips. But it went through him like a shock.

Christ.

She hadn’t even kissed him back. But he felt like he’d been slammed in the chest with a sledgehammer. This girl did something to him…God, he couldn’t stand that she could never belong to him.

He was angry with himself suddenly. Angry that he seemed to be unable to resist her. Unable to behave as a proper Dominant should. With respect for another man’s property, at the very least.

Fuck.

He stepped back, ran a hand through his hair.

He was here to give her what she needed. That was his job. But who the hell was he kidding? She was here with him because he wanted her.
Her,
Cassandra. Plain and simple. And devastating to his way of life if he didn’t get himself under control damn quick.

Just play her, damn it.

He pulled in a lungful of air, pushed it out on a harsh breath. He took another step back, moved around behind her. Lifted his arm and swung.

CHAPTER EIGHT

C
ASSANDRA FLOATED ON A CLOUD OF SENSATION,
completely inside her own head, yet acutely aware of every inch of her own skin. And just as aware of Marcus, standing behind her. His scent filled her nostrils, swam through her body, saturating her system.

There was no conscious thought; she had no control over her body anymore. She was a being of pure desire, of want, of need. And no matter how he touched her, hurt her, it was never enough.

She had heard his warning, had trembled with the desire to feel that pureness of pain he was promising her. But she was too far gone to even tense in expectation.

The blow came, a lancing sting that almost felt as though it had cut into her skin.

“Take it, Cassandra. Breathe into it. Yes, inhale, exhale.”

She did as he said. The sting intensified, became so razor-sharp she had to pull in a gasping breath.

“Yes, good, keep breathing. Follow my voice.”

The pain moved, spread, through her buttocks, her legs, her torso, through her breasts in an aching stab of pleasure. Her sex pulsed in response, keeping beat with the pain thundering through her body in a hammering rhythm. It was almost too much, nearly unbearable—yet exactly what she needed, had always needed.

“Feel it, Cassandra. Move with it. Move into the pain.”

Impossibly, the sensation increased. She groaned.

“Breathe, my girl.”

His hand curved around her body, came to settle on her belly. And with his touch came a roar of fiery pleasure, exploding in her head, in her flesh. She trembled with the force of it, her sex clenching. When his hand slipped down between her thighs and pressed into her clit, she came hard, harder than she had ever thought possible. Pain and pleasure combined, fused, burned through her in a molten torrent.

Her mind slipped away and everything went black.

It must have been only seconds before she opened her eyes and found Marcus staring into her face. It was another moment before she realized he had her chin in his hand, one strong arm holding her waist.

She was suffused with gratitude and with the aftereffects of orgasm. She felt loose, weightless, and filled with a great, inexplicable pleasure.

“Ah, there you are. Back with me.”

His smile was like the light of heaven to her. She smiled back.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.

He reached out, stroking her cheek, and she realized he had removed the tall collar that had held her so firmly in its embrace. She turned her head into his palm and kissed the soft flesh there. She couldn’t help herself.

“Ah, Cassandra.”

Nothing but pleasure hearing his voice like this, feeling his hands on her body, her face. And then the strangest thing happened. He was kissing her face, small, fluttering kisses over her cheeks, her chin, her eyelids, and finally her lips.

Her heart twisted, surged with longing. To touch him, to be with him, to feel him inside her body. She didn’t understand everything he made her feel. She couldn’t think now.

He tasted like wild honey.

When he pulled away she was panting with an entirely new kind of need his kisses had stirred in her. Unfathomable tears stung her eyes.

He was watching her.

“What is it, Cassandra? What do you need?” His voice was so gentle it hurt.

She could only shake her head, mute.

“Then I will have to figure it out.” He paused, searched her face. “I will figure you out. I will come to know you inside and out, until I know everything about you. Every dark secret, every moment of yearning.”

He was speaking so quietly she wasn’t sure he intended for her to hear him, for her to answer in any way. She stood quietly, waiting to see what he would do next. Happy to be in his presence, under his hands, under his care. She would accept anything this man did to her right now.

She was more than half in love with him, but it was more than the things he did to her with his hands, with the wicked little single-tail whip. It was the thoughtful way he looked at her, as though he really were trying to figure her out. It was the sharply planed, male beauty of his features, the graceful way he moved. It was that one precious conversation, and the way he spoke to her when she was under his command. He was the first man who truly cared what went on in her head. Irresistible.

She tilted her head to see him better and felt the soft brush of her own hair across the back of her shoulders. A small shiver went through her.

She wanted more. She wanted this to go on forever. And just as she was thinking it, he reached out and swept one hand very slowly down the front of her body, beginning at the hollow of her throat, over her rib cage, her belly, stopping just above the triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs.

She sighed, lowered her eyelids, let her head fall back, taking in the sensation of his hand on her flesh. Blood rose to the surface of her skin, as though to meet his touch.

“I want more of you, Cassandra. Now. Tomorrow. Next year. But all we may have is tonight. And since we are not alone here, I can’t have you the way I really want you, in my bed, in your body. Will you take what I can give you here? In the only way I can feel you in my arms?”

She lifted her head and nodded. She couldn’t help but smile. She was as happy at this moment as she had ever been in her life, even though she wasn’t sure if, or when, she would see him again. She understood his loyalty to his uncle, understood her own loyalty to Master Robert. But she couldn’t bear to think about that now. It was too complicated. For now, she would take what she could.

“Please, Sir…”

He reached up and unfastened her wrists. He was pressed right up against her as he worked the metal buckles free. She could smell him, the manly scent of sweat, a little musk of arousal along with that woodsy fragrance he wore. She inhaled deeply, trying to pull something of his essence into her lungs, to keep him with her.

He led her to a low, velvet-covered bench and immediately pulled her over his lap. His thighs were strong and hard beneath her stomach, her breasts pushed into his steely flesh. She loved the crush of his body against hers, wished he were as naked as she was. Before she had a chance to settle in, he smacked her bottom with his hand. One hard rap, quickly followed by another. Hard slaps coming one after the other, so quickly she couldn’t catch her breath in between.

It hurt. But as always, the pain morphed quickly into pleasure, so that it was no longer pain, except that it was, in a way she could never explain to herself. She wanted it, craved it. And even as she surged into his hard, loving hand, she squirmed to escape.

Soon she was panting, barely able to keep up with the pace he set. The slapping never seemed to stop, to pause even for a moment. But the pace itself forced her to become lost in it, in the pain, in the desire flooding her sex, her breasts, her mind.

She heard herself panting, moaning, over and over. God, it hurt. She was drowning in a pool of sensation. She needed to come.

Finally he stopped. She heard his ragged breath. It matched her own. She groaned her need one more time.

He turned her over with oddly gentle hands until she was cradled in his lap. He ran his hands over her shoulders, her arms, her thighs.

His voice was rough, husky, still breathless. “I want to hold you, Cassandra. I want to spank you some more. I don’t fucking know what I want anymore. What have you done to me?”

He gazed into her eyes. She was too far gone to understand what she saw there. His expression was pained, his eyes almost black. He blinked hard. Reached out to touch her hair, pulled back. The intensity of his gaze was making her heart ache.

Finally, he shook his head. “Damn it, Cassandra,” he muttered.

Her heart fluttered, stalled in her chest. Had she not pleased him?

“I don’t know what it is about you. You make me lose control. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be doing this. The more I touch you, the more I need to. And you are not mine.” He paused, shook his head. “We’re going to stop right here. Now. I’m handing you back over to Master Robert.”

“No!”

Marcus had his hands on her shoulders, ready to bring her to her feet. That one word stopped him short. He was shocked. By her refusal to go back to her rightful Master. By the way he was feeling about her.