Page 45 of Darkest Before Dawn (His Perfect Darkness #2)

“It’s not punishment if you like it.” He growls deep in his throat and draws my head back to kiss my neck.

His lips hover over my pulse as if he’s reassuring himself I’m alive.

“I want you in my dungeon. I want to tie you down so you can’t breathe without feeling my bondage.

I want to mark you with the tawse, the whip, the cane.

Stripe you until you sing for me.” He hesitates, as if reluctant to admit the rest. I press myself against him, and his control snaps.

He makes my back bow with my hair. “I want to cage you so you can never fly away.”

“Yes,” I gasp as the bite of pain sends me higher. “I want that too.”

“Fuck,” he snarls and pulls me back up, controlling my movements, holding me still for his kiss. His lips drag down from my mouth as he scrapes his teeth against my neck. I push my hips against him. I could orgasm like this.

We’re both breathing hard when he lifts his head. I meet his gaze, and there’s no more anger in his eyes. Nothing but desire.

“Please,” I mouth, awash in happy neurochemicals. I’m sinking fast into subspace. His control makes me weak. The strength leaves my legs until only his grip is keeping me upright.

“Please, what?” His voice cracks like a whip.

“Please, sir.” I arch in his hold, letting myself go soft with surrender. My eyelashes flutter. “Take me to the dungeon.”

Rex

She wanted the darkness? She’s going to get it.

But now, riding a vibrating saddle that tortures her clit, she might be having second thoughts.

Too late. Her arms are bound behind her in a reverse prayer position. She’s flexible, but after a few minutes, the strain will have set in, and her shoulders will be screaming for release.

I’ve gagged her with a rope winding around her beautiful face, and she groans into the knots at her mouth. I like it when she begs me, but I’ll enjoy that later. For now, I’m riding high on the desperation in her eyes.

She has a fat dildo wedged inside her—only her pussy. I still need to train her ass to take me.

Her legs shake, and she rises off the saddle, straining for a respite.

“Ah, ah.” I flog her ass. It’s already flushed red, a prepared canvas for more of my marks. She’ll be taking the cane and the whip today, but first, I’m going to flog her a bit more. Make the blood rise to the skin so she feels everything that much more. “Get back down on that dildo.”

She makes a distressed noise but sinks down like a good girl. She’s so wet, it’s no hardship to slide right on.

Damn, she’s perfect. Tied up and in distress and wet as a raging river.

I pace around to her front to flog her chest. Her eyes are half-lidded, pleading.

“I’ll let you off when it’s time to cane you,” I tell her. “But first, I want you to orgasm a few more times for me.”

She groans behind the gag, eyes wild. I step close to stroke her sweaty hair back from her face.

“This is how you please me,” I tell her quietly. She nods and closes her eyes, giving up her will. It’s a heady power trip when a goddess like Inara gives over control. It turns me into a god. My muscles swell, and I move through the room like I’m ten feet tall.

Her body rocks on the saddle, and she moans through her orgasm. Her skin is slick with sweat. She’s still soaking the saddle, but her front isn’t as nearly as red as her backside. Time to rectify that.

I rock back and forth, letting the flogger swing easily, letting my feet do the work.

St. James taught me the dance of a dom. It’s all about the footwork.

The leather tails rain down. I beat her breasts until her head is tipped back and she’s leaning into each blow. She’s riding high on a wave of bliss.

This is supposed to be punishment. Punishment and a renewal of our connection. A baptism by fire. A start to our new lives.

I trade the flogger for a whip. “Ready?” I crack it next to her head. Her eyes fly open at the sound.

She stares up at me, fear and lust warring in her eyes. Her chest heaves.

Then she nods. The trust she gives me triggers a feeling so powerful that I feel like I’m floating. Like I could drift up to the sun.

It’s not easy to be with me. I require nothing less than all of her. But then I’ll give her all of me, too. Love and trust in an infinite loop. There’s nothing between us now.

The whip licks her torso. She’ll feel like I’m flaying the skin from ribs, but I’m being careful. The marks won’t last long. Which is fine. Once they heal, I’ll get to whip her all over again.

I pause to cut off the gag and free her mouth. “I want to hear you scream.”

She gives the screams to me, the sweetest music. Her poor breasts are mottled red. I even whip her nipples. That sends her over the edge again. More screams.

When her head droops like she’s too wrung out to hold it up, I put down the whip and cut the power to the vibration saddle. I cup her face, making sure she’s still with me.

“Did I do good for you?” she murmurs, and my heart cracks open.

“So good, little bird. You just need a break and some water, and then you can take more.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, drowsy with endorphins. I kiss her sweet face and steady her as I lift her off the dildo. She shudders like it kicked off another round of aftershocks.

She’s too limp to stand, so I take her weight while I admire the shining dildo.

“Gods, you soaked the floor. You’re going to lick that up for me later.”

That makes her moan again.

I put her on her knees on a platform in front of me. She’s still in tight bondage, but it’ll be a mercy for her to be off that vibrating saddle. Those last few orgasms must have been painful.

Her lips are dry from the adrenaline. I hold her chin and give her water, a few sips at a time.

Halfway through the bottle, she closes her eyes and leans into my hand.

“You’re doing so well,” I tell her. “My sweet little sub. I know you want to please me.”

She nuzzles my palm and kisses it. So damn sweet.

I can’t take it anymore. My cock is about to burst from my pants.

“I was going to cane you next, but first, you’re going to take care of this.”

I unzip myself and step close. She’s positioned on the platform at the perfect height for me to play with, so I cup the back of her head to guide her closer, and she gets to work.

The first press of her lips to my erection sends me shuddering.

“I’ll have to whip you more often,” I say. She moans and takes me into her throat, either to placate me so I don’t punish her or encourage me to whip her harder. Probably both. The submissive and the masochist, holding hands and skipping along in her psyche.

I let her do the work until my balls tingle and I have to take over. I pull out and order her to breathe. She gulps air like she’s going to dive deep.

I’ll have to take her in the pool again. The breath play we experimented with there was fun.

Although there are ways to do breath play on land. St. James once mummified a partner in plastic wrap. He covered their nostrils so the only way they could breathe was through a straw in their mouth. And then he would cover the straw and watch the panic rise in their eyes.

Thinking about Sebastian is a boner killer, so I turn my attention back to my little bird—tied up tight, on her knees, working to please me.

She swallows me down again, and my control snaps. I fuck her face with abandon, driving my dick into her hot little mouth. I’m lightheaded, a man possessed, and my orgasm blows up from the base of my spine. I erupt into her mouth, bowing over her head as I pump into her.

When I pull back, her hair’s mussed and her lips are puffy from the abuse, but she looks peaceful. She opens her mouth to show me my gift, and gods, if that doesn’t make my cock jump like it’s ready to come again.

“Swallow,” I order her, and after she does, she opens her mouth to show me it’s gone. I stroke her face to reward her.

“You did so good for me. Just a little more punishment, and then it’s over.”

I release her arms and check her over. More water, more caresses. Her skin is sensitive from the impact play, so I soothe the soft welts the whip made and then scratch them lightly to make her squirm. The marks are proof of my power over her, and I’m going to enjoy them.

All the boundaries between us are gone. There’s nothing but us. “I’m going to make you feel your love for me. Write it on your skin.” Pain is a brand that proves I own her fully.

“Yes, sir. Please.”

“This won’t be easy,” I warn.

She smiles and keeps smiling as I use her braided hair like a leash to guide her to crawl to the cross. I allow her to stand on her own to tie her to it, secure her arms overhead, and tuck her braid out of the way, leaving her back as a bare canvas for me to paint.

She’s standing on blocks so she’s the right height for me to fuck her from behind. Her body is at an angle, too, her ass sticking out so I can see her puffy pussy, beckoning me.

“Soon,” I say and stroke her lower lips in promise. Inara sighs and presses her torso into the cross, even though it must be painful. Goosebumps rise on her back.

It feels right to be back where we started—her tied to the cross and me drinking in her lovely form, reveling in her submission.

So much has changed. So much is still the same.

“I’m going to love you now,” I say, stroking her bottom. She arches further to press her buttock into my palm. Her skin has a rosy glow, ready for welts and cane stripes.

“But first. . . tell me this. Who owns you?”

“You do,” she sighs. “You do, my king.”

Inara

I lose myself in the rollercoaster, the highs and lows the pain brings. The pride and excitement that I’ve reached a deeper level of submission.

I want to be perfect and pleasing to him.

The thought that I can serve him so fully fills me with warmth.

I want to be put through my paces, made to writhe and cry out and surrender.

I want to be brought low by his dominance until my whole self is obliterated.

There will be no Inara and no Rex, either.

We’ve become something else, something more.

A push and pull, a giving and receiving.

An inhale and exhale. Pain and bliss in one perfect body.

He lays love on my skin. Each lash becomes a caress.

Each welt is the result of the most intense, all-consuming kiss.

It’s the most extreme proof of connection.

I feel so close to Rex. So loved. The feeling sends me flying high.

I’m no longer myself. I have no identity.

I’m free, made new. I’m his, and he is mine.

And we are one.

It’s heaven, and it’s hell. Or it’s all hell, but it’s a wonderful place. With Rex, I can descend into the darkest places of need. My shadow self that craves the lowest places. He breaks me down so beautifully, and I trust him. Gods help me, but I trust him to walk through the darkness with me.

It makes me so happy, I could weep. I am weeping. I am undone.

“You’re doing so well for me,” he praises me between whip cracks. “You take what I give you so beautifully. You are perfect when you’re falling apart.”

I’m addicted to these sweet nothings earned with sweat and pain. Rex leans close, and he’s breathing hard, too. He’s working hard to bring me to that place of ecstasy, and I love him for it.

“I bet you could come like this.” He runs a hand down my back, re-igniting the fiery sensation. “From just the touch of my whip.”

I moan. I want that.

“Do you want me to do it? Do you want me to whip your clit until you come?”

I have a flash of terror. Not fear that he will hurt me, but fear that he will and I’ll let him down.

“I don’t know. What if I can’t.”

“You will. I won’t let you fail.”

No, he won’t. He will never let me fail or fall.

I weep then because I’m so happy. I was so afraid, but he took that fear, consumed it, and turned it into something else. There’s no more danger. Only ecstasy.

I tug on my bindings just to make sure they’re there. When I’m sure I’m held fast, I lean into the cross and smile. “Please.”

“I’ll give it to you. . . on one condition. You don’t ever leave me again.”

I shake my head frantically.

“You’ll be with me forever. Whether or not you wear my collar, you’re mine.”

“Yes.” I’m sobbing. “Yes.”

“Okay, little bird. I’ll give you what you need.”

The whip crashes down, sparking an explosion inside me. A white hot, searing pain. And then I fly like a bird, traveling safely home.