Page 125 of What Blooms in Barren Lands
He made me suffer two sharp lashes, one to each side. I hissed and whimpered some more. I felt him expand and harden even further within, the inside of me stretching tautly to accommodate him as I ached with the knowledge of how little I would need to move when he was like this to achieve enough friction to drive myself over the edge. Battling the urge to do that, to just shift my hips around until I made myself come, was like repressing the instinct to get out of the way of a falling tree.
But then his hands were on my neck, wrapping the cool leather around it, and intrigue and a different kind of excitement took over momentarily.
“Sounded like you had a little too much breath to spare, babydoll, shouting all that filth at me. You wouldn’t expect me to tolerate that, would you?”
He pulled at the ends of the belt like a rider reining a horse in, and the collar coiled and tightened around my windpipe.
“No, Sir,” I rasped.
Satisfied with my answer, he ground his hips, giving me a little taste of what I had to make him give me in full.
“Good. Now tell me again what it is you want. But you’ll have to really convince me this time. Fail to do so, and all I’m going to do today is wash that dirty mouth of yours with my cum.”
He moved again, rubbing sharply against my clit with controlled precision, the resulting bursts of ecstasy brief but so potent that each made me struggle sharply for breath I wasn’t allowed to get.
My heart pounded hard in my ears, panic shrouding me in its coat of ice. A sense of helplessness settled in firmer than had he just belted me, even as I hummed with relief at his decision not to.
I plunged, delving head-first into the bottomless pit of my own depravity, in search of a mud-buried treasure, something that would not disappoint him.
“Please,” I forced out, struggling against the grip of leather on my throat. “Will you wreck my pussy for me ...” And, victorious though still flooded with shame, I proudly presented my find: “Please,Daddy.”
A word that I had never before called anyone in my life. Ever. He was well aware of the significance, the utter pervasion of my using it, and I felt him flinch behind me even as he throbbed more acutely inside of me. Smugly, I turned my head around to look at him, only to see that which I knew I would find, the doubts gathering around him like dark clouds, and the master facade cracked with fear that he had pushed me too far this time.
“Daddy, please,” I repeated with a gloating smile, knowing that he would be no more able to refuse me than to make me sink any lower than I already had. “I need you. I’m so wet for you.”
The facade repaired itself the instant he glimpsed my self-satisfaction, as he was anything but a sore loser, revelling proudly in my wins the way, rather fittingly, a loving father would celebrate being beaten in chess by his clever child.
“That’s my girl,” he drawled, and with a measured pull, he reined me in even tighter, until I struggled painfully for each breath. “Always up for a challenge.”
He began easing out of me slowly, and I spasmed around him violently, almost as if trying to stop him, refusing to part with a single inch of him.
“And you know how much Daddy loves taking good care of you if you ask nicely,” he droned with wry amusement, suggesting that, whilst the same as I, he wouldn’t have cared for making that designation permanent, he was more than game when it came to testing it out just the once.
He drove back into me, hard, slamming into my cervix and knocking me forward with the impact. My head tilted back ominously as the leather cut into the skin of my throat, each vertebra in my neck protesting its newly obtained angle.
“But first, youwilllearn the virtue of patience.”
A couple of thrusts from him were enough for me to almost black out from the strong electric current running from the place of our contact through the rest of my body, each of my breaths an aggressive, choked rasp, tearing up from deep within my chest.
When I was moments away from coming, Einar purposely eased his movements. He was breathing hard, which belied the seeming ease of his self-restraint.
“No, don’t slow down ...” I howled unhappily once he loosened the grip on his belt, and I sensed his inner smile spreading behind the mask of severity. “Please don’t do this! Please!”
“That’s right, beg me. That’s how you show me you not only know but accept who’s in control. In control of your pain. In control of your pleasure.”
He teased me with small, lacklustre motions as he spoke, that kind of gravel in his voice which I knew signalled that he wasn’t far from his own climax.
“And fuck, is it hard for me to refuse you anything at all when you’re like this, all soaked and squeezing my cock like you never want to let go.”
I mewled with desperation, his words gasoline to what was already a raging fire.
“Trust me then when I say that when I deny you something you want, it’s only to give you something better.”
He picked up his pace again, and instantly, I felt weightless anew, all of my body disintegrating around me except for the solidness of our connection. I quaked, arching my back, ecstasy coursing through my veins. Only to have him disrupt the depth and regularity of his thrusts once more, right when I was on the edge.
“I can’t take it! I’m serious, I can’t! Please, you know how hard it is for me to need you like this.”
His smirk radiated from behind me like electromagnetic waves, invisible but perceptible nonetheless. He sought my breasts again with his hand, fondling each one in turn, pinching my nipples and rubbing them between his fingers, their skin rough enough from hard labour to feel like grit against the sensitive area.