Page 72 of Filthy Dirty Dom
At that, she flushed then swallowed hard. “Got it.”
When Leslie won next, she said, “I want you to slap my face with your dick while you hold my wrists together above my head.”
Fuuuck, Alex thought. That escalated fast and it only got worse (or better, depending on how one characterized it) from there.
Alex wrote it down the winner list.
It now read:
Make Leslie’s nipples hard with just Alex’s mouth
Leslie gives Alex a lap dance for the full length of a song
Leslie sucks Alex’s balls
Alex slaps Leslie’s face with his dick while he pins her wrists together above her head
They were both breathless as he dealt out the next hand. Sexual tension was heavy around them. Leslie's nipples were hard, his cock was hard. He’d bet all the money he had that her pussy was weeping, begging for his tongue.
He was so distracted he bet on a terrible hand. And lost.
He picked up the pen again, ready to write down whatever Leslie said.
“I want you to flog me."
Leslie noticed the change almost immediately in Alex's demeanor. Without moving or speaking, she sensed his withdrawal.
Why? After what they’d seen and done at the sex club and since then, he couldn’t be shocked. He was supposed to be treating her like an equal, like an adult. Now she was feeling self-conscious, like she was suddenly in the room with her brother’s protective best friend rather than a man who wanted her.
Finally, Alex said, "You're not ready for that. Not tonight."
Leslie resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. She knew she would look petulant and she wanted to avoid any association with her and the word “child” in Alex's mind. He gave her a fixed look. Like the matter was decided. Like the parent had said no. And no means no.
"Oh really?”
“Yes. Really.”
“And you get to decide when I’m ready for sexual favors?”
“In this case, yes.”
She frowned, confused once again that after everything they’d discussed, this would be such a sticking point for him.
Then realization dawned. Along with it came disappointment. Shame. Even anger.
“Of course,” she said. “You know about my dad. How he used to hit me.”
Alex’s jaw clenched and then he nodded. “I do.”
It made sense. He was Branden’s best friend. He was also their family’s security specialist. He would know everything there was to know about them when it came to potential threats. She understood, but she still hated that he knew. Leslie didn't want Alex drawing those images of her in his head: Leslie the little girl, Leslie the victim, Leslie the poor thing that needed a gentle touch.
She wanted to go back to just minutes ago when the air in the suite had been sweet and heavy with their arousal. When Alex was pushing her instead of reigning her in. She wanted him to look at her the way he had when he said he wanted her to suck his balls. Not the way he was looking at her now. Like she'd gotten too close to the edge of a cliff and he had to pull her back.
"I’ve worked through my issues with my dad. I know it’s never alright to make light of abuse, but believe me, it could have been far worse. The idea of being spanked or yes, even flogged, during sex doesn’t scare me, Alex. I like it when I've seen it in porn," she said. "And at the club."
And other times.
Alex didn’t know it because she hadn’t told him, but she’d seen her neighbor’s dom flogging her. It was summer and even though it was late the color of the sky was still an almost royal blue against the yellow of their window. The black straps crisscrossing the woman's body... the shimmer on her chin from the ball gag... the elegant curve of her bound neck as she arched back in rapture when the flogger landed...