Stepbrother Biker (MC BDSM Dark Erotic Romance) (3 page)

She gets up and makes her way across her room. “Ladies first,” he says with a sly smile, turning sideways just enough for her to slip past him. She feels the heat from his body as she grazes him on her way by. It urges her to touch him but she refrains.

They head down the hall, turning the corner towards the living room and he follows closely behind her. But before they get there she stops, noticing a bar across the high arching door frame.

“
What's that?” she asks, turning towards him.

“
You'll see,” he says, urging her forward with a hand on her back.

Her eyes flit back up to the bar, which she recognizes as a pull up bar.
He wants me to...work out?

He comes back to her side, but this time with the rope from before in his hands.
Shit.

“
Wrists,” is all he has to say, and she holds hers out for him. He smiles at her obedience, tieing her together again, just tight enough to keep them in place.

“
What are you doing?” she asks.

“
Just be patience,” he tells her. He takes the other end of the rope and throws it up over the bar, catching it again as it falls

Oh,
she thinks,
now I get it.

He pulls on the cord, hoisting it up and forcing her arms up over her head. “Owe,” she says as the rope digs into her skin.

“
I guess that means it's working,” he replies.

“
It's too tight.”

“
It's not, trust me, I've done this before,” he says with a playful grin. She cocks her head to the side and wonders who exactly he's been practicing this on, but he doesn't divulge a thing.

He yanks the rope tighter, taking her off the ground until she can only reach the carpet with her tip toes. It's uncomfortable enough to make her grimace, but it's not unbearable.

He stands in front of her, eyeing his creation. “And now we begin,” he says.

She fidgets against the ropes that bind her. “What exactly are we doing?” she asks.

“
You keep asking that like I'm going to give you answers,” he says, “I'm not telling you a thing. It's more fun for you if you find out as we go along.”

She groans and rolls her eyes, looking up at the bar and the rope that tethers her. God, I hope this doesn't come crashing down on my head.

Cole moves across the room and returns with a shiny pair of silver scissors. One look at them is all it takes to make Kara's eyes go wide. “What the hell are you going to do with that?” she asks frantically, trying her hardest to step away from him.

He chuckles. “Just what kind of guy do you think I am? I'm not going to hurt you with these,” he says. She believes him, but he obviously gets some amusement out of her thinking he would.

She flinches as he brings them up to her shoulder. With a snip, the strap of her sundress is gone and the garment half hangs off her body. “That was my favorite dress,” she says in a huff.

He looks at her with one eye arced high on his forehead. “Your dress is the least of your worries right now, trust me.”

He moves to the other side and snips the other trap, letting it fall and pool around her toes. She's not wearing a bra underneath and he lets his eyes linger on her full breasts for a moment. “Excited already, I see,” he says, tweaking her nipple between his fingers. He cheeks flush and she looks away. Much to her surprise, he then slips his hand beneath the fabric of her panties. “Mhm, yes, definitely excited,” he confirms.

Ugh, asshole. She flings her legs out, attempting to knee him but he jumps back. “Defiance will only result in extra lashes.

Her face contorts. “Lashes?”

Casually, he ignores her concern. “Hold still.” He brings the scissors to her hip and cuts one side of her panties.

“
You just said lashes? You mean like...a whip?”

“
I said hold still,” he says, his voice booming. “Unless you want me to cut you too.”

She does as he says but nothing about the situation sits right with her. He cuts the other side and them fall beneath her, along with her dress. He reaches behind him and pulls out a tassel style leather whip and saunters up slowly to her with it. Her stomach contracts just looking at it.

“
Now,” he says, dragging the end of the whip up over her body, “for a little bit of pain.”

She shakes her head. “I don't want that. I can't, you're going to hurt me too much.”

“
It's not that bad, trust me,” he says. “You've already proven that you can handle my hand. The whip is a next step. You're stronger than you think, Kara.”

Maybe he's right. Maybe I am stronger than I think, and maybe I can take it
.
She realizes she ultimately enjoyed being spanked by him last night, as odd as it was.

He steps around her until he's outside of her peripheral vision. She takes a deep breath and braces herself. Waiting is torture on it's own, and she thinks he knows that.

Without saying a thing she feels the whip crack against the back of her thighs, stinging her flesh. She fists the ropes above her, closing her eyes tight to endure the pain. He hits her again, this time on her back, which makes her cry out. “Dammit, that hurt,” she says as she loses her footing.

He's quickly behind her, steadying her by her hips. “We're just getting started.”

“
Try not to aim for my back,” she says.

“
Fine. More lashes for your ass, then,” he replies.

Oh God, get me out of this.

He whips her again, this time on the across her cheeks, and hard. She takes her lip between her teeth to muffle her cries. Suddenly, she appreciates being spanked by him that much more.

“
I want you to tell me about one of your dark fantasies,” he says.

“
What?”

He strikes her again against the ass.

“
Your fantasies, I want you to describe them to me, in detail,” he repeats, louder this time, and with another hard lash.

Her body jerks forward, her face grimacing. “How many more times are you going to make me do this?”

“
Until you answer my question.”

Thwack.

She can barely concentrate on anything long enough to form a sentence between lashes. But stubbornly, her own prudishness was holding her back from answering him.

Hin her silence, he hits her again, against the back.

“
Aaye!” she screams. “I told you not to hit me there!”

“
All you have to do is talk.”

Thwack.

“
Okay, okay,” she says between gasps. “I'm held down. Not even tied, but just held.”

“
By who?” he says, the whip colliding with her cheeks once more.

“
A man. I can't see his face, but I can feel him. Maybe he has me...blindfolded?”

“
And.”

How much longer is he going to make me do this? “And...and...I fight against him, but I can't win. I don't even stand a chance, he can hold me down with one hand around my wrists.

Thwack.

“
What does he do to you then?”

“
He...he...mmph,” her words become mumbles feeling as if she's going to die from embarrassment.

Cole pulls back the whip and strikes her body again. “Tell me what he does to you.”

“
He fucks me!” she blurts out. “He holds me against the floor...not even a bed, and he fucks me, repeatedly.”

“
Very good. Now look at his face. What does he look like?”

She squeezes her eyes tight and tries to envision the fantasy again. “I told you I can't see him, he's wearing a mask or...”

“
Or?”

“
Or something. His face is hidden by shadows.”

Cole comes up behind her, pulling her back against him. The feeling of her damaged flesh against his rough clothing makes her wince.

“
Look closer, Kara. What does he look like?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. Like, nothingness. He could be literally anyone.”

“
Wrong answer,” he says, pinching her nipple between his fingers.

“
Aaye!” she screams loudly.
Fuck, hasn't he done enough?

His voice is loud and demanding now. “Look harder,” he says, his words echoing off the walls.

She tries her hardest to see him, to transport herself back into that fantasy she's had way too many times. “Mmm, he's....he has dark hair and...”

“
And what?” he says, taking her other breast into his hand and manipulating it. She squirms in his arms.

“
He's tall. His eyes, they're dark. So dark,” she says, her breath nearly spent.

He pulls her head back by her hair until he can look her directly in the eyes. “Who holds you down, baby? Tell me who?”

“
It's you,” she says breathlessly.

He kisses her lightly on the mouth. “And don't you forget that.”

He lets her hair go and spreads her legs wide. Her chest still heaving as she listens to him unzip from behind her. He pulls her back by the hips, letting her feel his hardness against her cheek like a secret promise. Thinking about what he's about to do to her only makes her grow slicker. She grabs the rope above her head tight—this is going to be hard and rough and she knows it.

But that's hardly enough to actually prepare her for the moment when he plunges his cock into her. She lets out a loud, guttural cry, barely recognizing her own voice. It's not purely out of pain, but it isn't entirely motivated by pleasure either. He pulls back, and does it again, their bodies practically melting when they meet in between.

He bends over her, wrapping an arm under her hips as he buries himself as deeply inside her as he can. Her body bounces with each thrust, her hair spilling around her face like curtain. He cups her breast with his other hand, holding her tight against his chest as he rolls his hips against her. She closes her eyes and groans, throwing her head back when he finds her sweet spot. And he's relentless, hitting the spot over and over, until she shudders in his arms.

The pain has long dulled; pleasure is again all she knows.

Her body goes limp and he pulls out of her. He still holds her, swaying slightly back and forth and feeling her breast, which is enough to keep her aroused. Her breathing steadies and she all but forgets the pain her arms and wrists, until he lets go.

“
Aren't you going to take me down?” she asks.

“
Not yet.”

“
What? Why?”

“
It will do you good to stay like that for a while. You can think about your defiance.”

She grits her teeth and says, “You can't just leave me like this?”

“
Oh really? Why can't I?”

“
It hurts,” she says.

“
It didn't seem to hurt a few minutes ago.”

“
But that was when you were...” she bites her tongue and her voice trails off.

“
If thinking about me helps you through it, then so be it,” he says, cupping her chin between his fingers. She pulls away.

“
You ass,” she says, kicking out at him multiple times, but only grazing his thigh. “I don't want this, and this is supposed to be my fantasy and not yours.”

“
Exactly. Your fantasy is to be dominated, so that's what I'm doing.”

Ugh. One moment he racked her body with pleasure and the next he reminded her of why she's always hated him. He's too smart for his own good.

“
I'm going to sit right over here and take a little nap. You can, well, hang out for a while,” he says as he walks towards the couch.

“
Seriously? Fuck you Cole! Fuck you! Take me down from here, now!”

She struggles and struggles against the ropes that bind her, while Cole stretches out on the sofa and puts on a pair of earphones. Eventually all of her struggling wears her out. Her body goes limp as the tears spill on to her cheeks.

*

She ignores him everytime he brushes by. He walks by her hanging, naked body so carelessly, it makes her see red with anger every time, but she doesn't let it show. She just keeps her head down, her hair guarding her face, trying to ignore how sore her shoulders, wrists and arms are.

Finally, he comes up behind her and says, “Ready to come down, sis?”

She grunts, not saying a word.

“
Is that a no?” he asks with a laugh. When she doesn't reply he simply says, “Alright, fine, another three hours then,” and marches around her.