THE CAPTURE: The Marriage Diaries, Volume 6 (Invitation To Eden) (5 page)

It was pure, sweet agony.

The moans she tried so hard to keep in check finally broke free, the sensual sound shocking her with the depth of desire and need he evoked with every crack of his multi-strand whip. Her head fell forward, and she shuddered as he landed another blow that caused the suede strips to wrap around her upper thigh, and the tips of the flogger to tap across her mound in a way that made her knees go weak.

He strolled around to stand in front of her again, continuing the delicious torment on her front-side—lashing the upper swells of her tender breasts, her belly, her legs—wielding the flogger in such a skillful way that created a delicious burning warmth to spread across her skin, and dissolve into something perfectly, breath-takingly exquisite.

The scene was kinky, undignified, and Lord help her,
she loved it
.

By the time he was done, her sex tingled. She was undeniably wet, the inside of her thighs slick with her arousal. Her clit felt swollen, throbbing, aching for a firmer, more intimate touch in order to claim the orgasm pulsing for a release. Never would she have believed being flogged would stimulate and excite her to the brink of climax, yet that’s exactly what had happened.

Holding her gaze, Black Heart pushed two fingers between her thighs and glided them along her pussy, careful not to tip her over that precarious edge she was teetering on. “You’re drenched,” he said, smiling triumphantly. “I think you’re ready to be fucked.”

She trembled all over at the thought of him giving her what she desperately needed. What she desperately wanted.
Oh, yes, please.

He pulled on the chain that lowered her arms back down, and he unbuckled the soft leather cuffs, releasing her hands, then removed the scraps of her blouse still hanging from her shoulders. She fully expected him to take her over to the nearby couch, but instead he turned her around, slid his big hand up to the back of her neck, and pushed her upper body down until she was bent over a padded table, her cheek pressed to the cool leather. The edge of the bench was cushioned against her hips, and her breasts, still confined in the nipple clamps, rubbed enticingly against the surface.

She instinctively tried to push her way back up, but he grabbed her hands and extended her arms above her head, then secured her wrists in the iron cuffs at the opposite end of the table. He hunched down behind her and spread her legs so he could wrap a length of chain around each of her ankles to shackle them to the opposite legs of the table, widening her stance and exposing her throbbing, needy pussy. She was still wearing her heeled boots, and she was grateful for the leather that provided protection from the rough metal links that would have rubbed harshly against her skin.

He straightened behind her and trailed his fingers down her spine, leaving shivers in his wake, despite her best efforts to suppress them. “Fucking perfect,” he murmured appreciatively as he caressed a palm over her smooth, bare ass. “It doesn’t get much more submissive than this, with you stretched out, spread open, and helpless to deny me anything I wish to do to you.”

She turned her head to glance at him, galled by the man’s smug confidence. “Do not mistake this for willingness or obedience,” she snapped, refusing to yield in any way to her captor.

“Obedience, no,” he agreed as one of his wicked fingers dipped along the crease of her buttocks and between her legs, sliding through the undeniable and slick evidence of her
willingness
. “But your body wants this. All this wet heat is
begging
for my cock to slam deep inside your tight pussy,” he said as he dragged the tip of his finger over her hard, sensitive clit in a very pleasurable caress, teasing her with the promise of the release he kept just out of her reach. “Admit it.”

Yes, yes, yes
! Ignoring that brazen voice in her head, she closed her eyes and forced out a denial. “No. Never.”

“Very well, then,” he said, his tone more ruthless now as she heard him unbuttoning the front of his breeches. “Let’s see just how
unwilling
you can be.”

The naughty thrill of anticipation rushed through her, heightening her shameless need to be
taken
by this rogue pirate in an arousing display of forced seduction—exactly as she’d imagined, and written, in her fantasy. She gasped as he dragged the head of his cock along her slit from behind, using her moisture to lubricate himself, then pressed the engorged tip against the opening to her body, pressing in just a few delicious inches.

If she had the ability to push back into him, to entice him deeper, she would have done so. But the restraints around her wrists and ankles kept her immobile and him in complete control of the depth, pace, and level of sensual torment he planned to inflict upon her.

He leaned over her from behind, his hips aligning with hers, the heat of his chest blanketing her back. One of his hands twisted around her loose hair until he reached her scalp, and he pulled her head back until her throat was arched, thoroughly dominating her in every way.

His lips skimmed along her jaw up to the shell of her ear, his breathing already ragged and he’d yet to thrust the rest of the way inside her body. “I’m going to fuck you and make you mine,” he said, his voice harsh and hot against her neck. “And since you refuse to admit that you want this, too, it’s all for
my
pleasure, not yours. If you dare to come while I’m inside of you, I will punish you all over again with the flogger, harder and longer, until you are too weak to even whimper. Do you understand?”

Her traitorous body quivered, and somehow, someway, she managed to utter a quiet, “Yes”.

She curled her hands into fists against the iron shackles and braced herself for that first brutal, invading thrust. He didn’t disappoint, plunging into her with a hard, long stroke that had her sucking in a startled breath and her inner walls clenching around his shaft. He was big and thick, stretching her, filling her, and with another jerk of his hips he seated himself even deeper still.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groaned in her ear as he withdrew from her body in a slow, tortuous drag of his rigid flesh against her sensitive inner tissues, before slamming home again with such force she was certain she’d have bruises across her hip area where she was bent over the table.

His free hand slid down between her legs, his index and middle finger gliding along the moist folds of her sex. He trapped her clit between those two digits, manipulating and pinching that bundle of nerves with just enough finesse to keep her teetering on the edge of an orgasm, yet not allowing her to free-fall over the edge. Her stomach tightened and rolled as the ache between her legs intensified, then ebbed when his fingers stopped plucking and stroking her flesh.

Her thighs shook, and she moaned in frustration, and she could have sworn she heard the rogue chuckle softly, wickedly, against her neck.

He flexed his hips, his thrusts slowing into a steady, rhythmic grind against her ass. His cock shuttled into her pussy and withdrew at a leisurely pace, her body feeling every heated inch of him as he slid all the way in, then gradually eased back out. Again and again and again . . .

Needy little noises welled up in her throat, and she tried to push back against him, to urge him harder, faster, deeper—she desperately needed the friction, inside and out—but she was anchored tight to the table and could barely squirm.

He nipped at her shoulder, then soothed the sting of pain with a soft lap of his tongue. “I think I’ve made you suffer long enough, wench.”

She nearly sobbed in relief at his words, but quickly realized when he removed his fingers from her clit, released her hair, and straightened behind her, that the end of her suffering did not mean he’d changed his mind about letting her climax. Oh, no, this was all about him finally seeking out his own release, and taking his own pleasure just as he’d claimed.

His broad hands gripped her hips, and he literally nailed her to the bench with the next rough thrust, as did the rapid succession of thrusts that followed. He groaned, his control vanishing as he slammed so far inside of her that she’d be lucky if she could still walk once he was done with her.

His body finally tensed and a hoarse cry of release echoed in the chamber as he emptied himself inside of her, then collapsed against her back once he was done.

Through it all, he never let her come.

D
ean slid into the large copper tub behind the gorgeous, sexy woman he’d bought as his slave, the steaming water rising up to the edge as he added his muscular weight to the old-fashioned, claw-foot bathtub that had been built with plenty of comfort for two.

With a soft, blissful sigh, Jillian reclined against his chest and rested her head on his shoulder, her palms sliding along his legs that were straddling her from behind. She’d gathered her long hair into a loose, messy top-knot to keep it from getting wet. The heat of the water, scented with a lemon almond bath oil, gave her complexion a rosy glow—or maybe that sheen was a result of her being well and truly fucked, even if he hadn’t allowed her to reach her own orgasm. Yet.

He would, in due time, he mused as he caressed his hands along her arms, her skin soft and slick from the water and fragrant oil. Their first scenario as pirate and wench had been all about punishing her for trying to escape, then her refusing to admit she wanted him. Her body had been undeniably wet and aroused, taking his cock with ease, but she’d played the part of stubborn damsel just as he knew she would so that he’d be provoked to force her into submission.

If there was one thing he’d learned about his wife and her sexual preferences over the past few months of their experimenting together, he’d come to discover that she liked it a little rough, along with a sting of pain, and she loved it when he exerted his strength and power over her, mentally and physically, when it came to fucking her. His dominate side loved it, too, that he had a wife who allowed him—encouraged him even—to embrace those darker desires he’d suppressed for most of their twenty year marriage.

Now, the sexual games they played were almost always bolstered by elements of BDSM, and he definitely enjoyed surprising his wife with all the different ways they could add a bit of kink to their sex lives.

When he’d plucked one of her favorite fantasies that she’d written down and put into the glass vase in their playroom at home for them to draw inspiration from, he’d immediately known that his weekend get-a-way would be all about fulfilling that forbidden, provocative, and erotic adventure. The moment he’d made his presence known at the auction as the ruthless Black Heart, he’d seen the secret thrill in her eyes, and falling into character had been fun and hot as hell for him, too.

She rolled her head to the side and glanced up at him, her hazy eyes meeting his, rerouting his thoughts and attention back to her. “So, how is it that this tub was filled with steaming hot water just as we needed it?”

After their intense scene in the other room, he’d released her limbs from all the various restraints, then picked up her slack body in his arms and carried her to the bathroom, where a bath had been prepared, just as he’d asked. Jillian had been delighted by the surprise, and he was glad that he’d had the foresight to make the request, especially since he’d been so aggressive with her. Undoubtedly, her body was feeling the effects of being taken so barbarically.

“I’ve discovered that the island of Eden is a very magical place,” he said as he trailed the tips of his fingers across her stomach beneath the water. “I’ve set up a few things and let staff know what I wanted done, and approximately when, and so far, everything has fallen into place perfectly.”

“I’m impressed, and this bath is so nice and relaxing after what you did to me in that dungeon room,” she said with a smile. “My muscles were so tense, and soaking them feels so good.”

He skimmed his hands up to her breasts, cupping the weight of both in his palms. He ran his thumbs over the tips, and didn’t miss the slight catch of her breath. He’d taken the clamps off her nipples before she’d immersed herself in the tub, and he hoped he hadn’t left them on for too long.

“Are your nipples sore?” he asked, his voice reflecting his concern.

“They’re a little tender,” she said, and moaned softly when he very gently circled her areolas with a tip of a finger in a soothing touch. “But you’re making them feel
much
better.”

He chuckled and nuzzled his nose against her ear. “And the flogging? It wasn’t too much?”

“It was perfect. As if you’ve been doing it for a while.” She arched a brow, silently questioning his expertise and skills.

He revealed another surprise. “I had one of the Doms at The Players Club give me a few lessons on flogging, just to make sure I didn’t hurt you in any way.”

“I’d definitely let you do it again,” she said, her voice dropping to a low, husky pitch as she rubbed her thighs together beneath the water, a telltale sign that she was still hot and bothered. “The whole fantasy, from the auction, to you capturing me when I escaped, to being flogged and fucked in the dungeon, was incredibly exciting and arousing. You made the scene feel very real, and other than denying me an orgasm, I have no complaints.”