Page 67 of Lilacs and Leather
I whimper, pressing my face to the bed as his roaming hands start up again. This time, his fingers brush over my outer lips, but the touch is so light as to be nonexistent. I fight the urge to push back, to try to get what my body craves.
“You’re doing so well, sweet girl. I thought for sure I’d need to spank you again, but you’ve been so good. Shall I reward you?” he asks, light and soothing.
“Please,” I whimper, my voice muffled by the duvet.
“Please, what?”
“Please, sir,” I beg, turning a little so he can hear me better.
“Good girl.”
At the first brush of his fingers against my clit, my back bows sharply, nearly lifting my shoulders off the bed. Rhett’s little chuckle is lost as I let out a shuddering exhale, closing my eyes at the electric pleasure careening through my veins. I bite my lip, muffling my moans as his finger slowly circles that little pleasure bud, my legs shaking with the effort to stay still. I hear the crack of his palm before I feel the pain, and I don’t have the brain capacity to handle how my pussy clenches at the bite of pleasure-pain.
“You do not hide your pleasure from me, love. I don’t care if you scream so loud that the concierge can hear you in the lobby, but you do not hold back from me. Understand?”
I choke as his fingers speed up, the pleasure building in my gut. I moan as his hand comes down again and I nod.
“Yes, sir,” I moan, the word drawn out as I shiver.
“I can feel your cunt flutter for me whenever I spank you. Do you like it when I do that, little one?”
The shake of my head is an instinct I don’t have time to check. Spankings weren’t uncommon when I was growing up, and it was never pleasant. Spankings meant I’d done something wrong, and I shouldn’t enjoy displeasing Rhett to the point he needed to spank me. But when he brings his hand down again, the warm pain spreading across my skin, I can’t deny the pulse in my core, or the wetness dripping from me.
“Oh, I think you do, love. Or why do you gush so sweetly when I dothis.” Rhett punctuates his words with another slap, and I moan as I feel his finger slip inside of my channel.
I flush hot, burying my face in the covers again, shame falling heavy on my shoulders. My mind is a war of sensation. The pleasure of his hand as he works one finger in and out of my throbbing slit, his thumb still circling my clit. The pain in my ass from his strikes. The confusion over why that ache only makes me wetter. I whimper and whine, shaking my head and trying to clear my thoughts.
“Focus on my voice, Lydia. Stay with me. That’s a good girl,” Rhett exhales, his voice vibrating with the purr I can feel in my bones.
I nod, trying to obey. He adds a second finger to my channel, and I gasp. His free hand rubs lightly over the skin of my behind, moving in slow circles.
“You are so wet for me, little one. You are allowed to enjoy my touch, no matter how it comes. You are so good, so responsive to me. Can you take one more of my fingers, hmm? Can you do that for me?”
Rhett’s low mutterings help bring me back, and I nod, not trusting my voice right now. I suck in sharply as he stretches my pussy, three of his thick fingers working in a slow, steady rhythm that makes the fire build in my core. I pant, unable to stop my hips from rocking back to meet his hand. I grit my teeth around a moan as I feel his tongue against my clit, flicking with exactly the right pressure to send me soaring up toward my release. The wet sound of his hands, his deep moans as he drinks in my essence make my skin flush, sweat beading along my brow and back.
“Sir, I’m—I’m close,” I pant, my voice high pitched and breathy.
“Ask me for it,” Rhett growls against my skin.
I swallow, legs shaking as I feel the coil in my gut winding tighter and tighter. His hand picks up speed, and I groan.
“P-please…” I stammer, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Please. What.”
I writhe, trying to escape but wanting to fall all at the same time. Rhett doesn’t let up, and I can hardly get enough air into my lungs. My feet slip on the floor, and I’m impaled farther on Rhett’s hand, making me scream.
“Please let me come for you! Please, sir, can I come?”
“Come for me, little one. Give me what’s mine.”
My vision whites out as stars burst, my release gushing from me and spreading to every corner of my body. Rhett’s hand doesn’t slow, and I feel his teeth latch onto the skin of my inner thigh, adding another bite of pleasure-pain to send my mind reeling. I feel another orgasm building hot and fast and I try to get purchase on the bed, trying to pull away as my body goes into overload. Rhett snarls, and I feel him lean over me, his arm pressing on my lower back to keep me in place.
“Again, Lydia.”
My body sags as I give in to his command, the release like liquid fire in my veins. The wet sounds of his hand fucking into me are obscene and perfect, but I hardly notice them. My throat feels raw, my moans almost continuous now as I clench and flutter around Rhett’s fingers. This peak goes on and on, and I feel boneless as I let the waves wash over me. Rhett keeps going, wringing my body of each ounce of pleasure it can give. I let my eyes slide closed, the world fading as I fall into a sea of ecstasy.
When I come to, I’m no longer bent over the footboard, but on my laying on my side. I breathe in deep, and I inhale a deep lungful of Rhett’s whiskey scent. I feel his body heat radiating into my front, and as I crack my eyes open, I see the little clover tattoo on his chest. My eyes feel heavy as I drag them up from his chest to his face, but the warm smile on Rhett’s face makes me hum contentedly.