Done [Running to Love 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) (20 page)

He didn’t warn her, simply began to spank her, one knee on the bed beside her, one hand still holding her in place, as he swung the other to tan her vulnerable ass. It burned and stung as he covered the entire surface while she struggled and cried for mercy, mercy she didn’t want or need. The plug jostled, and a coil of darkness began to unravel deep within her. Greg ignored her cries as she knew he would, and she then began to slip away on sensation. She didn’t know where the heat on her backside began or ended, and it didn’t matter. When Greg pushed his hand between her legs after a particularly well-placed spank right on the base of the plug and pinched her clit, Lacey wailed out her orgasm. The fact that the room was monitored by Alistair only made it more intense, knowing that he saw her discipline and reward. She let herself go limp and felt her pussy’s residual clenching as if from afar. Greg gently pulled the pillows from beneath her and released her hands before rolling her onto her back, stroking her hair away from her face. He pressed a kiss on her nose.

When she could open her eyes again, he was looking at her with such adoration that she wondered if they should just go home, abandon the scene, but he gave his head a tiny shake. He knew her thoughts, and Lacey realized tonight was the last intense experience that he would give her before he wrapped her in cotton wool and waited for their baby to come. Lacey winked at him, and he became the lord of the manor again, and she was back to the virginal, serving wench.

Greg pulled her arms above her head and secured them to the headboard with her stretched and tattered bra. He took his favorite position between her thighs, her legs up against her chest and spread wide, leaving her open for his inspection. He ran a finger through her dripping folds and raised it to his mouth, leisurely licking it clean.

“I like the taste, wench. Perhaps you can give me more so I can drink my fill. But be silent. We do not want the whole household to come and see what the fuss is about.”

Lacey immediately creamed, and he smiled before dipping his head to give her an open-mouthed kiss complete with a lance of his tongue. He ignored her clit and concentrated on her opening and the little sensitive areas around it. He inserted a finger gently and curled it against her G-spot and Lacey arched into him, trying to stay quiet, but heard herself whimpering. He prodded her, and Lacey fought coming but was lost as his mouth suctioned her clit. This time she saw stars.

Greg was removing the plug, she vaguely realized, in preparation for fucking her, and the warm cloth between her legs felt caring and comforting. She would have liked the double penetration but accepted his caution. She drifted, trying to gather herself for the grand finale, because he had waited a long time, and he was due. She was still tied to the headboard, and she knew it was going to be hard and fast.

A pinch of her nipples popped her eyes open, and she yelped. Greg frowned down at her.

“I told you not to wake the household. Be quiet.” He pinched harder, and Lacey moaned, trying to keep the sound inside. When he slipped the little gold circlet around the beaded tip and wound it tight, she couldn’t keep quiet, thrashing her head in an effort to do so, but her moans and whimpers escalated. The door opened, and she stared to see Alistair step inside, his green eyes narrowing as they met her own. Greg attached the other clamp and she hissed in wilder pain. She rode it until it bled throughout her body and centered between her legs.

“You see?” Greg said. “Your noise has wakened the household.”

Lacey reveled in her exposure and her vulnerability. Greg pulled her legs apart roughly, intimating his impatience, totally in character, and tied them by her ankles to the footboard. Alistair’s face set as he looked at her wide open sex, and he pulled a chair closer to the bed, dropping onto it to lean back and study her with apparent indifference. His bulging leathers contradicted him, and Lacey loved the dichotomy. Greg understood her exhibitionistic side, even as it sometimes pained him to share her pleasure with others. This was unprecedented, him allowing another man into their bedroom. Lacey would never participate in a threesome or any other hands-on configuration, but loved to be disciplined at the club in front of the members, and this was the next best thing. If anything it felt naughtier, hotter.

Greg leaned down and sucked her clit into his mouth, and Lacey felt the clamp circle it and pinch shut. She gasped and tried to flinch away, but Greg lashed her with his tongue. She begged and pleaded and saw Alistair pull his cock out and begin to stroke himself. Greg slid up and over her and pushed inside, still fully clothed, the lord of the manor taking his careless pleasure with his chattel. He hammered in and out, in and out of her slick channel. Her tormented clit took the brunt of his thrusts as he pulled out to slam back inside, and her clamped nipples chafed against the warp of his shirt. When Greg’s breathing began to labor, he reared up and popped the clamps off of her nipples, one by one, and the returning blood boiled over to addle Lacey’s brain. He sat back on her thighs, still partly inside of her, and released her clit then shoved back in hard against her clenching pussy. Lacey was overloaded with sensation, and she literally screamed her climax. Greg shouted his own release before collapsing beside her. Lacey vaguely heard the door shut quietly, and Greg soon stirred to untie her ankles and wrists. Lacey lay like a beached starfish, unable to lift even a finger.

When she could put words together, she said, “I’m going to report you to the Sheriff of this Shire.”

Greg nuzzled her shoulder and replied, “Won’t do any good, wench. Who do you think was in that chair?”

Lacey wanted to laugh, but even that took too much effort, so she contented herself with a tiny smile.

“I’ll give you a bath.”

“Later, Greg. I’m done.”

Greg abruptly rolled on top of her, and she opened her eyes, startled, to find him nose to nose with her. She had to squint to focus. He gripped her shoulders with his big hands and squeezed firmly for effect. “You’re done when I say you are, Lacey, and that would be never.”

This time Lacey managed a big smile, one she was certain said it all. She hitched up a little and slid her nose to one side of his and kissed his cheek tenderly. “Poor choice of words, Greg. Never done. Not ever.”

THE END

WWW.ALLYSONYOUNG.COM

Allyson Young lives in cottage country in Manitoba, Canada with her husband of many years and numerous pets. She worked in the human services all across Canada and has seen the best and worst of what people bring to the table. Allyson has written for years, mostly short stories and poetry, published in small newspapers and the like, although her work appeared in her high school yearbooks too! After reading an erotic romance, quite by accident, she decided to try her hand at penning erotica.

Allyson will write until whatever she has inside her is satisfied- when all the heroes man up and all the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and Allyson favours the dark side of romance.

Profile: I write whenever the mood strikes me, sometimes in the middle of the night when I am awake and simply thinking about life. I hear others talk about their lives and relationships and am inspired to recreate some of their passions and dreams within my characters.

I can write for hours at a time, quite lost as the story unfolds, or haul out the little book I always carry with me to jot thoughts and ideas down as they occur, whether in the local grocery store or while out walking with my dogs. I sometimes have two or three stories on the go at the same time, not that they all come to fruition.

The BDSM lifestyle intrigues me, and as I continue to do my research, it becomes ever clearer that the players and the levels of involvement are as varied as any other interests people may have. I claim poetic licence and may offend the purists! There is always a flavour of the dominant male in everything I write, but the women ultimately are appreciated and cherished and have the ultimate power in the relationship despite the fact that their love can sometimes be quite blind.

Ménage Amour: Running to Love 1:
Away

Siren Allure: Running to Love 2:
Broken

Siren Classic: Running to Love 3:
Breathe

For all other titles, please visit

http://www.bookstrand.com/allyson-young

Siren Publishing, Inc.

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