Page 19 of Hunt Me

He didn’t stop his actions, methodically rubbing the strands along my belly and down to my thighs. I shifted from foot to foot as my body continued swaying. The anticipation was creating a crushing weight against my chest.

His presence alone was sweet torture and all I could think about was seeing him without his clothes. Maybe I had to earn the privilege. I continued swaying as he shifted around my side, flicking the tawse lightly against my back. There was no pain, yet I jumped, laughing nervously.

“You’re never done this before,” he stated. It wasn’t a question. He simply knew me far too well.

“No.”

“Even more enticing.” His Russian accent seemed heavier than before, laden with lust as his eyes had been in the bar.

I continued shivering as he brushed the leather from one side of my bottom to the other. Without warning, he snapped the tawse against my buttocks. I experienced shock more thanpain, concentrating on the aftereffects of his wrist snapping so violently.

The sound continued to reverberate in my ears. I sensed my body was rocking. I knew I should feel something other than euphoria, but that wasn’t possible.

Mikhail took a deep breath before rubbing two fingers down my spine, caressing my bottom. The sensual moment was short lived as he cracked the implement across both cheeks several times.

The moment of awe was broken, anguish shooting down both legs.

“Oh…” Biting back a scream was close to impossible, but I somehow managed. The last thing I wanted to do was draw attention to what we were doing. Was I embarrassed? Concerned what would be said or done? Worried my friends would learn I’d been silly enough to go off with a man I barely knew to a hotel room and be spanked while blindfolded?

Maybe a little of all of the above.

Mikhail didn’t allow me time to process the pain before striking my bottom four more times. I was pitched forward from either the force or my nervousness, but he caught my arm, crowding closer.

“Easy. Just relax.”

“Okay. Yes, I’ll try.” I hated the sound of my voice. So uncertain of myself. So fearful I’d chicken out. He allowed me time to mentally process before bringing down the strap again. White-hot electricity swept from my arms to my legs.

Every sound and sensation was amplified including his labored breathing along with my heartbeat. My toes curled as he issued six more strikes, taking them very slowly, moving from side to side. Not only was every nerve standing on end, but my pussy was throbbing more than when he’d stroked my clit.

The understanding was unbelievable but true. I continued trembling as he pulled my back against his chest. As he held me close, he rolled the tawse across my breasts. They were even more aroused than before. He nuzzled against my neck, nipping my earlobe while allowing his hot breath to tingle my skin.

I melted against him, pain and pleasure becoming one. With my pussy clenching and releasing, I almost climaxed without him needing to touch me. How was that possible?

He’d taken full control of my body. I rested my head against his shoulder. He held me close, stroking me tenderly as a true lover would. Maybe not knowing much about him was a powerful aphrodisiac.

I softly purred as he pinched my nipple, twisting the tender flesh. I no longer feared pain as I’d once done, now reveling in the amazing eruption.

Another sound caught my attention. He’d pitched the tawse aside. Very slowly he turned me to face him, cupping both sides of my face. “Now, I’m going to make love to you.” With his lips brushing against mine, I gripped his forearms.

The kiss was soft and sweet, a bridge between agony and ecstasy.

When he pulled away, he gathered me into his arms, yanking one heel off my foot then the other. I clung to him as he carried me several yards, aware of the rustling of sheets before being placed on a cool surface. My bottom ached, waves of heatlingering. The sheets were soft yet scratchy and every time I moved, I felt as if I was being a bad girl.

He said nothing as he pulled away, but I sensed he was watching me closely. I didn’t dare move even as I longed to reach out and touch, to rip off his clothes. He was taking far too long to unwrap the prize.

When I dared touch the material wrapped around my eyes, I felt weight on the bed, his hand on mine. “You aren’t allowed to remove your blindfold, my angel. Do you understand?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Who said life was fair?”

Every time Mikhail issued a slow and easy chuckle, it was as if the man knew he had the world in the palm of his hand. My stomach remained aflutter as he knelt over me. What he hadn’t told me was that I wasn’t allowed to touch him.

So I did, gasping the moment I touched his chest and abdomen. He was sculpted like no man I’d ever touched. While basking in the man’s glory would be incredible, there was something so enjoyable about touching him in blindness. A laugh pushed past my lips.

“Something funny?” he asked.

“No. Everything is… amazing.”