Freed (Assassin's Revenge #3)

My ass felt like it was on fire when he was done. His hands stroked my skin and soothed me, his lips kissing each aching bit of skin until it all melded into a pool of want and need and desire so deep that I was convinced I would drown in it.

“Let’s slide your panties off your ass. You’ve been so good, cherie, you deserve a reward.”

“Thank you Sir,” I gasped gratefully.

His arms helped reposition me so I was sitting on the floor, my back leaning against the bed. He kneeled down next to me and he kissed me deeply, passionately. His fingers tweaked at my nipples; his hands cupped my breasts. His nails scraped at my skin and I moaned into his mouth at the tsunami of sensation he was causing in me.

“You okay, Jenny?” His voice was all warmth and calm reassurance.

“Yes Sir,” I responded instantly. I was more than okay. I was burning up, teetering at the edge of a chasm of need. He had to push me over. I needed to explode and shake and quiver all over him as he too climbed to his climax.

But at the same time, I was eyeing the flogger that he’d casually thrown at the side of the bed. He noticed my gaze and he grinned at me, stifling his chuckles. “Want more?”

I flushed, gulping with nerves. It felt so strange to ask for what I wanted.

“Remember the rules, Jenny,” he said firmly. “Open, honest communication.”

“When Madame Lorraine’s trainers tested me, they used the flogger against my breasts,” I whispered, mortified.

“And you’d like to repeat that?” His voice was deep.

I nodded. His fingers touched my chin, tipping my face up so that I could meet his eyes. In his gaze, I saw pleasure. “Thank you for telling me what you’d like, Jenny,” he said, his voice filled with approval. Then, the timbre of it changed and the smoother, firmer tones of the dominant was back. “Five strokes, I think, to start.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I whispered.

His fingers finally lifted the chain containing the priceless diamond pendant from my neck and he tossed it on the bed. His lips twitched at my words. “You might not be thanking me at the end, cherie.” And with that, the flogger slapped down on my right breast and then my left.

Pain bloomed instantly, but so did impossible lust. I groaned and rested my head on the bed, biting my lip and taking a deep breath, letting the sensation flow through me.

Slap. Slap. Two hard strokes and I twitched. The movement set the butt plug moving in me. I’d almost forgotten about it, I’d been so lost in every other sensation that Alexander was causing.

“Three more to go,” he announced.

“You said five, Sir,” I protested, wincing almost instantly as I realized I had contradicted my dominant. I braced for anger and punishment, but he just shook his head calmly.

“Five per breast, Jenny.” The flogger descended over and over and I let it wash over me. A strange languor filled my entire body. I still wanted to come, I still wanted to feel his dick in me, but in that moment, all my own wants receded and what was left was Alexander’s desire.

The flogger thudded to the floor; Alexander sat on the bed, his hip touching the side of my face. His hands caressed my heated flesh, his fingers teased each red, tender nipple. He kissed me. My mouth, my neck, my shoulders, my breasts. His breath was hot against me; his stubble scratched at my sensitive skin. “Sir,” I sighed, unable to hide the pleasure in my voice.

His hand stroked my cheek. “You are so beautiful like this,” he said quietly. “So wet. So ready for me.” His touch shifted lower, tracing a slow path from my breasts, down my stomach, past my belly button, to cup my mound. My thighs were damp with my juices; my * dripped with desire. I watched him touch me, my entire body yearning for him. My lips were parted, but my plea remained unvoiced.

But he was finally done making me wait. I was helped up onto the bed, positioned on my side. My panties were roughly pushed down to my knees. The butt plug was removed and a fresh drizzle of lube was slicked on my asshole. I heard the sound of a condom wrapper tear, then I felt the fat head of Alexander’s cock strain at my tight rosebud.

I didn’t tense up. Not this time. This time, there was no fear. My anus stretched to accommodate him, then I felt his head enter. His hands gripped at my ass and he groaned out his pleasure. “Fuck, Jenny,” he said.

“Please,” I whimpered. Please what? I couldn’t tell. I was poised on the edge, waiting for just a little more to push me past the point of no return.

He pushed into me, just a little more. Inch by inch, taking me slowly, causing a strange, tingling pleasure as his cock filled every bit of me. His fingers rubbed at my clitoris at the same time. I threw my head back and cried out. He’d told me once that he wanted to hear me moan. I was happy to oblige.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gritted out as he buried himself to the hilt and held himself still, giving me time to get used to the feeling of him in my anal passage. His fingers danced over my nub.

“Fuck me, Sir,” I begged him. “Please.”