Page 94 of On His Terms

“Now you’re going to take one that’s larger than either of those.”

She whimpered. His words frightened her enough that she almost moved her hands.

“It’s your choice. Do you want it or not? It will help prepare you, or I can simply put my dick up there now.”

Master Alexander was much thicker than either of those. Being stretched wider was a mercy. “Another one is fine, Sir.”

Though he eased the current one from her, the respite was temporary. Almost instantly something much larger demanded entrance. “Damn, Sir!”

“Relax your muscles,” he encouraged.

She curled her toes against the unyielding floor. “I can’t do this!”

He slapped her ass hard.

The distraction allowed him to sink the nasty thing farther in.

“You have a safe word. Use it or quit carrying on.”

“This one is different,” she complained after expelling a breath. And she hated it.

“It’s made from tempered glass,” he said. “Unbreakable. It’s considerably less forgiving than the others we’ve used until now.”

She shuddered. Having his cock up there had to feel better than this.

He reached beneath her to play with her clit. Always this man knew how to touch her. As need built in her, he spun the glass piece in slow circles, working it deeper a little at a time.

She cried out as he continued the assault on her rear.

Despite all her good intentions, she moved her hands and tried to stand. He pushed her back down and forced the glass in even deeper.

She panted, drenched with sweat, tears swimming in her eyes as the pain engulfed her.

He shoved on the base, sinking it all the way home. “Good girl.”

“Fuck off,” she muttered under her breath.

In an instant, he flipped her over so that she was on her back looking up at him.

“Were you being disrespectful, girl?”

She shook her head, but then she looked away and closed her eyes.

“Chelsea?”

Digging for courage, she faced him again. “You’re right, Sir. I was. I’m sorry. It hurts so much, and your words struck me as condescending.” She bit her lower lip, afraid of his reaction. Even in a vanilla relationship, speaking to a partner in that way was disrespectful and unacceptable. “I was out of line. I accept whatever punishment you deem necessary.”

He loomed over her, fully dressed, arms folded implacably. “Do you or do you not have a safe word?”

She wanted to look away. “Yes, I do, Sir.”

“Do you remember what it is?”

“Parsley, Sir.”

“And do you or do you not have a way to request a pause if you can’t deal with something?”

With a bravery that she wasn’t feeling, she continued to meet his gaze. “Yes, Sir.”