Savage Road (Torpedo Ink 7) - Page 72

“You really are the devil, aren’t you? I’m not giving you a reason to spank me. I can’t imagine how I’m going to walk straight tonight, let alone sit.”

That made him laugh. “Then you have to tell me which porn made you the wettest. I’m getting turned on just trying to guess.”

She gave him her grumpy sigh but didn’t turn her head, refusing to look at him when he really wanted her to. “That doesn’t surprise me. Everything turns you on, especially when it comes to me and dirty, kinky sex.”

“We haven’t actually done the dirty, kinky sex you like yet because you haven’t asked me for it, Seychelle. You were supposed to ask, remember? I ask you for what I want, and you ask me for what you want.”

He rubbed her back, right between her shoulder blades, because she was beginning to tense up a little at the idea of disclosing to him what kind of sexual acts had aroused her when she watched them.

“I’m not asking for this at all,” she said, her voice muffled by the comforter, but there was just a trace of excitement there.

Savage slid his hand down her spine, massaging gently, rolling over those marks that proclaimed she was his. Her legs were already spread, but the moment his palm was on her bare cheeks, she shifted, spreading her legs even wider to accommodate his exploring fingers. His smile was wicked. He felt wicked as he cupped her sex. She was slick. He began a slow, intimate massage designed to smolder. Burn slow. Take embers and fan them. Make them into roaring, leaping flames.

“There were two that were crazy. Both were outdoors. I don’t know if the outdoor thing was part of it, you know, the cool weather, maybe someone coming up on you, sun setting behind you, I don’t know, but both were pretty cool settings. One, the girl was naked, and she’d just gotten out of a hot tub, so she was damp—you could see the little beads of water running off her skin. He tied her spread-eagled, faceup on this lounge similar to the couch you have in our bedroom, with rings everywhere. Her legs were split so wide open and her arms were very wide apart. He had a crop. The crop was leather, and the end was flat like a tongue.”

“I am familiar with a crop, baby,” he assured her.

“He began hitting her with it very hard, on her breasts and nipples, over and over until she was screaming. He began spanking her … um … down there.”

“Pussy,” he supplied. She was so wet. Drenched. He plunged two fingers deep and her silken muscles were so tight they tried to strangle him, tried to drag him in and milk him. Yeah, she liked the idea, although she was afraid of it. “He spanked her pussy with the crop.”

“Yes. Until she came. And she did.”

“The second one?” he pushed while she blissfully rode his fingers. She was drifting on a sea of bliss, heading toward an orgasm. He pulled back, pressing hard on her clit to stop her. “The second one, Seychelle. Tell me.” He slid his fingers between her cheeks, painting until that sweet, tight little star was just as slick as her pussy. He began to put pressure there.

Seychelle tensed. Resisted. He smacked her bare ass right over the darkest red streaks, bringing those fires to roaring. She hissed at him, her hips bucking hard, driving his finger deeper into her. He pushed two fingers into her pussy and pumped, using all three in rhythm.

“The second was outdoors, and it was more in the woods, like out back with the trees. She was naked, but he wasn’t. He put clamps on her and then a plug of some kind.”

Her voice shook. Her body shuddered. She was close. Savage brushed her clit with his thumb. Strumming. Pumping. He bent down and kissed his way over her flaming cheeks, those dark lines that belonged to him. That excited him. That had every cell in his body roaring with life.

“He told her he had cut a switch for her and to get it. She did, and then she stood with her front to this tree and he switched her with that thin branch on one side and then she had to turn around and he pulled off the clamps. I could tell it hurt. Then he switched her on her front. I could hear others in the background and so could she, somewhere in the woods, and she stayed very quiet so they wouldn’t hear. Then he had her turn around again, bend over, and he took her right there, in the open.”

She talked very fast. All the while her hips rocked to his fingers, riding them, back and forth between the ones in her pussy and ass, his thumb giving her inflamed clit what she needed, driving her higher and higher. He used his fingernails, tracing those dark red lines so they came alive under her skin, pushing that fiery pain right into the building pleasure like a heat-seeking missile. She came apart for him, crying out his name, her silken muscles clamping down hard and then rippling over and over.

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
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