Learning to Drown (9 page)

My face went hot and I made a sound
that told him the truth before I could even speak. It was an almost sad sound.
He sighed, waiting for me to answer. He would make me answer. There would be no
letting me off easy. “No. I never let him. I never told him.”

“Virgin ass, then?” His fingers
stroked my ass crack. A strange sensation wormed its way up inside of me.
Setting off ripples of almost unpleasant pleasure in my cunt.

“I’ve never told anyone.”

“You didn’t have to tell me. It’s
written all over your face. If you know how to read it.”

That couldn’t possibly be true and
yet, I didn’t doubt him even for a second. “What are you going to do?” I feared
his answer, yet hoped for the worst.

“Spank you, of course. You can pay me
in strokes. We’ll start with ten. And let me tell you, September, I am being
very benevolent.” He touched me and I broke out in goose bumps. My body so
confused, was I hot or cold? Scared or horny? Did I trust him or fear him? I
wanted to scream, I wanted to laugh.

“Ten? What if it hurts?” I froze at my
own stupidity, but it was too late. No way to suck the words back.

Lucas pinched my upper thigh so hard I
flopped on my belly like a fish. “Oh, but it should. But only enough. So if I
am hurting you too much. If it’s too unbearable. And you need me to stop in the
most true and honest sense of the word, you say
red.
Got it?”

I nodded. My throat tiny with
apprehension, my stomach knotted tight.  “Red,” I repeated.

“Yes. It is my favorite color. And it
is the color your ass will be when I’m done with you.”

I almost wished for the dark and the
twilight dream again. Until Lucas stroked my bottom.

Chapter 9

I knew I should be careful
¾
knew
it would end
¾
but I couldn’t help but  relax into
his touch. He palmed my ass, going with the curve of my body. Lucas rubbed the
very tops of my thighs where they met my ass. My skin tingled like I was being
electrocuted. The same feeling I had had before a sudden summer storm. He
pushed his fingers along the crack that separated my ass cheeks. Hitting that
bundle of nerves again, I squirmed under him. I gasped like I was drowning.
Lucas laughed softly. The sound made me wetter still.

“Anticipation,” he said. His voice was
whiskey and campfire and darkness. “It is the best and the worst of it all,
don’t you think?”

I made a sound meant to be yes.

He parted the seam of my ass and he
pressed his finger to the small star of my anus. For the second time I was
startled but intrigued by the feel of him pushing his finger to that entry. It
wasn’t something I’d ever done and the thought of doing it with him was
terrifying. And I wanted it.

Lucas slid his palm along the other
half of my bottom but my mind had already wandered off. He was mounting me from
the rear in the porn movie that played behind my eyes. Yes, mounting. Like an
animal. No preamble. Pushing into the tiny pink hole of my behind and fucking
me hard. My head bowed down, shoulders pressed to the mattress while he called
me
whore, slut, bitch…
all the beautiful ugly words that secretly
thrilled me.

Lulled by his hands on me, my mind
drifted. Soothed by his possessive touch, I let my guard down. He slid his hand
over me as if he had known me for a million years instead of hours. He parted
me again, examined my flesh. His lips pressed to my left ass cheek and I
moaned. His mouth was hot and soft against me, his tongue trailed up the crack
of my ass and then back down. He left a wet trail to dry on my body. The hot
tip of his tongue touched that star and I held my breath. I wanted to move up
to him. I wanted to touch him. I wanted a lot. I did none of it as my heartbeat
filled my head with a drum beat. Instead, I stayed still because I was the slut
and he owned me. My abductor.

Just when I thought I might die, the
first blow landed, forcing air into my lungs like the great rush of an ocean
wave.

I was drowning in air but my skin was
on fire. “How many was that?”

“One.” It wasn’t a word, it was an
animal sound that came out of me.

The next blow landed and before I
could say
two
the third blow fell. Then the fourth and the fifth. I
tried so hard to count them off for him, I struggled. The pain was searing and
white. I imagined hot sparks shooting off my skin like the sparks that fly from
road flairs.

“Seven,” I sobbed. I wanted it to be
over and I wanted it to never end. The pain stitched into my skin, needlepoint
made of fire and lightning. But I didn’t want it to ever end, because each
crushing blow thudded a dull warm pleasure through my cunt.

Every blow whittled at my body until I
became a pinpoint of pleasure painted with agony. I tossed on his big white
bed, tangled in his purple spider web of ties.

“Good girl,” he said. An absurd sense
of pride filled me for pleasing him so. Blow nine was staggering. It bowed my
back up, threw my head back. My stomach pressed flat to the firm mattress and
soft sheets. I was acutely aware of how soft they were under my hips. “One
more, you good little slut,” Lucas said. I thought I might come from the words
alone.

I lost my chance to analyze how I
must’ve slipped into insanity because the final blow landed and then his mouth
was on me where I pulsed the worst.

* * * *

His hands stroked the places that
throbbed with dull heat. All of my focus was on the way he touched me. My head
spun and tried to pick apart the night. I pushed away rational thought. Focused
on the beating echoes of pleasure in my pussy, in my chest. Tears pricked my
eyes. Not from the pain but from the urge to second guess myself. “Good, good,
girl. You did very well, September,” Lucas said. His fingertips danced over the
spots where he had spanked me. His fingers felt like cool water on sunburn. “You
have some nice marks here. I think you’ll like them. And tomorrow they will be
a lovely shade of purple and hot pink and red.”

“I…” I couldn’t think how to finish
that sentence. So I said nothing. I simply listened with all of myself to the
thump of blood under my skin. His fingers slipped into me. I was so wet it was
effortless and fluid, he fucked me with slow even strokes of his hand.

“You what?”

The wet sounds of my pussy taking his
fingers deeply filled my ears. He pushed another finger into me and I tried to
stay in place, but failed. I tilted my ass high in the air, the skin tingling
with excess of blood, trying to open myself more for him. My arms buzzed with
pins and needles crushed under me gracelessly. My legs, crossed at the ankle,
left very little access for him.

“You what, Ember?” He prompted.

“I don’t know.”

“I bet you are so ready to be fucked
you want to cry. Aren’t you? You have no power here. I can fuck you or I can
leave you welted and primed and go back to bed. What do you think I should do,
Ember? What do you think I should go with
-
a warm willing pussy or a few more
hours shut eye?”

Lucas pulled his fingers free and I
sobbed. My arms sang with a cramping pain, but I didn’t care. I wanted him.
“Fuck me, please,” I said. God. Had I said that aloud?

His wet fingers found my clit and
started slippery revolutions that had me grinding my hips down mindlessly.
Seeking out more of his touch. Release. The pain in my ass spread like a stain.
Hot and dull but pleasant in its own right. What I felt when he touched me
between my legs accented brilliantly by the sting and bite of his punishment. I
thrust down against his hand and embraced my shame. That was what this was all
about. Being his slut. Being shameful. Not thinking.

“Look at you. Desperate. Slutty.
Gorgeous, needy little whore.” Coming out of his mouth, the words that should
sound so horrible sounded as bright and shiny as new coins. There was a tone of
reverence in his voice that I knew I wasn‘t imagining. As if he were marveling
at my bravery and strength. My ability and willingness to accept his pain. More
pride, shiny and big, filled my solar plexus.

“Yes,” I managed. “Yes, Sir. I am
needy. I need you.”

The world turned wildly when he rolled
me on my back. The light stung my eyes, the ceiling fixture an interrogation
light. Lucas shed his pajama pants in an effortless motion of flexing muscle
and sinew. His hair still twisted in whorls to one side, eyes sharp but still a
bit sleepy. He was beautiful and perfect and a new kind of fear rippled through
me. I didn’t stop to look at it. Instead I studied him. His cock stood out
before him, hard and perfect. He stroked himself and watched me. I noticed the
birth mark on his hipbone, how his cock curved to the left, the way his thigh
muscles bunched when he pumped his shaft. The smooth head of his flushed sex.
The dark trail of hair from his navel to his groin was the sexiest thing I’d
ever seen. I licked my lips, moved a little. My entire body resonated with my
want of him. I spread my legs for him to see me. The swollen, rosy flesh
between my legs that beat with my rapid pulse. Beat so hard it felt as if my
heart had relocated from chest to cunt.

“Spread them wider for me. Let me see
everything. You’re so pretty. You know that, right? Red on your ass end, red
between your legs. Not pink like most women. True red. You have a red, red
cunt, September. Like a sinful little flower.”

He moved closer as he threw his praise
at me. My belly curled in on itself and relaxed, spasms of excitement that
bordered on pain. I moved my hips, flexed against the ties. Begging him with my
body to be fucked, for him to touch me. Touch me hard, touch me soft, however
he wanted. I simply craved the feel of him.

There was that half grin again. So
immensely cocky and yet he backed up every assumption with the talent to make
me feel this weak and wanted. I would not think about time or logistics. I
flexed my calves, spread wider, watched him move to the bedside table and open
the drawer. “What were you just thinking just then,” Lucas asked. He didn’t
look at me. He looked at the foil packet now in his hand. Peeled it open so
slow I heard every crinkle of the shiny wrapper.

“That I shouldn’t be thinking.” I
tried to pull my gaze up to meet his, but my eyes fixed on his dick. He was
large and so hard. The rational parts of me shut down at the sight of him. What
was left were the animalistic parts that were so eager, maybe too eager, to get
him inside of me. To feel that first immense thrust that would seat him deep
inside my pussy. And then to feel the whole of me pressed to the all of him.

“Scared?”

I nodded, watching him roll the milky
pale rubber over the perfect flushed length of his cock. I almost said,
No,
no don’t do that
.
I want to feel you. All of you.
But that was just
plain stupid and if he was using one he was too smart to listen to the likes of
me anyhow. “Yes, I’m very scared.”

“Want to change your mind?” He turned,
holding his now sheathed cock in his hand. Smiled. Pointed it at me like a gun.
He was trying to push me off balance. Pushing my boundaries, my nice girl
sensibilities. My common sense.

“No.” My eyes found that scar in his
eyebrow again. Why was I so fascinated with that damn scar? Because it was the
only evidence of weakness? That Lucas Crow was indeed flesh and blood and not a
perfect, invincible alpha male.

He came at me, his brown eyes sleepy
but dangerous. The cut of his jaw, the angle of his brow hard and malicious.
His sleep spiked hair shone in the stark light of the overhead making him appear,
in that breath of time, almost angelic. A dark angel come down to steal my
soul. “Say red and you’re out of here. Untied, in my sweats, which I will give
to you. Returned to your man and your life and all of it. Or I can take you to
the police. Family, friends, neighbors, any or all of the above. Just say the
word. Tell me no.”

I trembled, finally in this place of
my abduction. A dark place I had silently imagined for a long time. How many
daydreams? How many nights dreaming it? Waking up sweaty and on the verge of
orgasm. Twice, coming awake mid-orgasm. My own fingers tangled and stroking
between my legs, bringing myself to climax while I dreamt of the overpowering,
strong, violent dark
him
who would take me. Now Lucas was here, being
the
him
I’d imagined. Fantasized. Wished for in some shadowed part of
myself. A dream come true. Someone to do the things to me I craved, hell,
needed.
But trustworthy enough to not be a monster.

“Tell me no, September,” he said,
watching me. Stroking his cock, moving one step closer.

So I said the only thing that maybe
would save me. I parted my legs farther, arched my hips toward the ceiling to
show myself to him fully and said, begging. “Please.”

Chapter 10

He tore the panties with his fingers.
I watched. Rip, rip went the little scraps of lace that held them together at
my hips. I didn’t care. I could buy new panties. This, I could never get again.
This first with him.