Chapter 93 (1/2)

“Quiet,” I warn, and prowl around her once more. I flick the crop against her in the same sweet spot and she whines on contact, her eyes closed as she absorbs the sensation. With another twitch of my wrist, the crop snaps against her nipple. She throws her head back and moans. I aim again, and the crop licks her other nipple, and I watch it harden and lengthen beneath the bite of the leather keeper.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” she rasps, eyes closed, head back.

I smack her across her behind, harder this time.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir,” she cries.

Slowly and with care, I lavish strokes, licks, and flicks over her stomach and her belly, down her body, toward my goal. With one flick, the leather tongue bites her clitoris and she shouts out in a gargled cry, “Oh, please!”

“Quiet,” I command, and reprimand her with a harder flick across her backside.

I skim the leather tongue down through her pubic hair, against her vulva to her vagina. The brown leather is glistening with her arousal when I pull it back. “See how wet you are for this, Anastasia. Open your eyes and your mouth.”

She’s breathing hard, but she parts her lips and stares at me, her eyes dazed and lost in the carnality of the moment. And I slip the keeper into her mouth. “See how you taste. Suck. Suck hard, baby.”

Her lips close around the tip and it’s like they’re around my dick.

Fuck.

She’s so fucking hot and I can’t resist her.

Easing the crop from her mouth, I wrap my arms around her. She opens her mouth for me as I kiss her, my tongue exploring her, reveling in the taste of her lust.

“Oh, baby, you taste mighty fine,” I whisper. “Shall I make you come?”

“Please,” she pleads.

One flick of my wrist and the crop smacks her behind. “Please, what?”

“Please, Sir,” she whimpers.

Good girl. I step back. “With this?” I ask, holding up the crop so she can see it.

“Yes, Sir,” she says, surprising me.

“Are you sure?” I can barely believe my luck.

“Yes, please, Sir.”

Oh, Ana. You fucking goddess.

“Close your eyes.”

She does as she’s told. And with infinite care and not a little gratitude, I rain quick, stinging licks over her belly once more. Soon she’s panting again, her arousal heightened. Moving south, I gently flick the leather tongue over her clitoris. Again. And again. And again.

She pulls at her restraints, moaning and moaning. Then she’s quiet and I know she’s close. Suddenly she throws her head back and mouth open and she screams her orgasm as it shudders through her entire body. Instantly I drop the crop and grab her, supporting her as her body dissolves. She sags against me.

Oh. We’re not done, Ana.

With my hands under her thighs, I lift her trembling body and carry her, still shackled to the grid, toward the Saint Andrew’s cross. There I release her, holding her upright, pinned between the cross and my shoulders. I tug my jeans, undoing all the buttons, and freeing my cock. Yanking a condom from my pocket, I rip the foil packet with my teeth and with one hand roll it over my erection.