63. Natalie
63
NATALIE
H e’s fanning me, I think. A cool breeze wafts over the aching, throbbing heat of my clit as I register the sound of something soft batting the air. It’s wonderful and awful in equal measure.
‘Such a beautiful sight, your cunt,’ he says. ‘I can see how swollen it is already, sweetheart. Imagine how much it’ll be begging for my cock in a few minutes.’
I let out a throaty little sound that has him throwing something on the bed with a soft thud and then hooking his thumbs under my suspender straps before letting them ping against my skin. It smarts, but I know the paddle will be way worse.
He gropes my cheeks, taking handfuls of my flesh and kneading like I’m his property and he’s checking me out. That feeling intensifies as he runs a proprietary finger down between them, prodding at my entrance before swiping over my clit. It’s the most fleeting touch, but I swear my soul sings at the feel of it.
‘More of that later, if you’re a good girl for me,’ he promises. ‘Now, let’s start with five on each side, shall we? If you manage those, I’ll reward you. Safe word?’
‘Organza,’ I croak.
‘Very good. Don’t forget to count.’
I lie here in this strange, supported all-fours position, waiting for the first strike. Time is suspended, my heart racing, my entire body braced with the most curious combination of fear and need. There’s silence, then a rush of air and a resounding slap on my right cheek that’s so sudden and oddly, cleanly, painful that I let out an involuntary cry. It feels like an overreaction, but I can’t help it.
‘God, that’s a beautiful sound,’ Adam muses, then: ‘Count.’
‘One,’ I say feebly, clenching my fists in their restraints.
‘Good girl.’
The first strike on the other cheek is equally intrusive and stinging. My eyes prick with instant, violated tears while my legs struggle ineffectually to move.
Adam waits.
‘Two,’ I say belatedly as the stinging sensation morphs into a warm, glowing halo.
He rewards me with the briefest touch of his finger, which slides inside me effortlessly before he pulls it out.
‘Just as I thought,’ he says triumphantly. ‘My sweet, perfect little toy is fucking gagging for this.’
He sounds every bit as smug as he was that first time he got me in a private room at Alchemy. Then, I wanted to slap him and shame myself. Now, I just want him to take pity on my poor pussy and fuck me.
We work through the first ten spanks, five on each side, and I remember to count.
‘You’re doing so well,’ he tells me fondly. ‘Are you feeling okay? ’
‘Yes,’ I reply. It’s true. I’m growing more and more lost inside this dark, wonderful prison.
‘Good,’ he says. I hear his footsteps travel away from me, then there’s the squelch of something wet, followed by a buzzing noise. Uh-oh. I know what that is. While I was immensely grateful for my rose vibrator before I met Mr Your-Orgasms-Are-My-Job, I’m undoubtedly the sole female employee of Alchemy who has never fucked herself with eight inches of silicon. I can’t help but brace as Adam’s footsteps—and the buzzing vibrator—come closer.
‘I told you I’d reward you,’ he says. What I’m not expecting is for his hand to squeeze under one side of my torso and tweak the nearest nipple. It’s painfully hard and so extraordinarily good that I whimper.
He withdraws his hand, but a moment later the tip of the vibrator is buzzing hard against my clit, and hooooooly fuck . I practically come on the spot, but then it’s gone.
‘Count,’ he orders, and the paddle hits me again. If anything, the clean, sharp sting it delivers intensifies the throbbing in my clit.
‘One,’ I bleat.
The vibrator is back, tracing a lazy, lubed-up, mesmerising path from my clit to my entrance.
‘Get that arse in the air, high as you can,’ he orders me, and I strain to obey him, arching my back as much as I can in this position to lift my bottom away from the bench. I’m a needy, greedy thing, writhing like this against that buzzing tip, attempting to push against it. If anyone is watching, they’ll see just how much I want to be fucked in any way possible, and the thought of it has hot, intoxicating shame coursing over me.
‘Nice,’ he hisses. Without warning, he pushes the beast in hard, and I let out a strangled gasp at the welcome intrusion, because I’ll take it, I’ll take every inch of it until Adam sees fit to give me the real thing.
He’s still feeding it into me when he hits me with the third spank of this round, and the blow makes me jolt against the vibrator. Holy crap. Holy crap. I will not last till ten without coming. I let out a cry because this is all so perfect that I want to die.
‘Count!’ he shouts at me in a deeper, sterner voice than I’ve ever heard him use on me.
‘Three,’ I say. ‘Oh God, three, I?—’
He rams the vibrator in a couple of inches further before administering the fourth spank of the paddle. Beneath my blindfold, I screw my eyes shut and press my lips together before breathing out the word four.
‘Greedy girl,’ he croons. ‘Jesus Christ, so fucking greedy. Anyone walking past is going to see that greedy little cunt taking a rubber cock while I pink up this luscious little arse even more. You’ve got me so hard, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck you so, so hard as soon as you’ve come.’
On the fifth strike, he pushes the vibrator in a little further. Jesus, it’s big, and it’s so obviously a foreign object that my pussy is torn between feeling violated and dancing the Can Can.
On the sixth, it bottoms out, and I experience a whole new level of mind-bending pleasure as the clit part of it hits home. It’s vibrating inside me, massaging my walls as it rubs at my clit in the craziest way, and I definitely will not survive this.
Then he starts to fuck me with it, using deep, rolling thrusts, my clit reaping the rewards each time it bottoms out in me. I shudder and shake and whimper through the last four counts, which come further and further apart until I’ve cried out ten at which point I hear the paddle hit the floor with a clatter.
And then? Then he just fucking holds the vibrator there, its extension a relentless, constant assault on my clit as its girth continues to shudder inside me and my burning bottom glows with its halo of heat and some strange, profound pleasure. It’s so much , so completely overwhelming, that I’m powerless to resist it.
I don’t.
I can’t.
I allow the deluge to consume me with a barrage of waves so strong they obliterate my consciousness. I’m sucked under, pummelled with a pleasure so great it has me reeling. The fact of my being restrained like this, unable to move through the sensation overload, simply adds to the intensity.
When I climax, it’s with full-body convulsions, my eyes squeezed tightly shut behind their blindfold and Adam’s name on my lips, over and over and over. I’m turned inside out and upside down; I’m reborn. The clean completeness of this feeling is nothing I’ve ever, ever felt before.
As the pleasure crests and begins to ebb, the vibration is too much, and I flinch slightly. He flicks the device off immediately and pulls it gently out of my body. It lands on the bed, and then his hands are smoothing down my back, over my stinging, happy bottom.
‘God, you did so fucking well,’ he whispers hoarsely, dropping a kiss to one sore cheek and then the other. ‘I will remember this sight when I’m on my deathbed.’
I giggle. ‘So good,’ I agree with a slur. I can barely form words.
‘I have to fuck you now,’ he says, his voice growing firmer, that edge that gets me off hardening his words audibly. ‘If you can handle more.’
My clit may have taken a pounding, but my pussy is bereft. ‘I want the real thing now,’ I murmur, and he lets out a pained laugh.
‘Jesus Christ. Where did I find you?’ He’s tugging at clothes as he speaks. I hear the unmistakable rasp of his zip before the beautiful wool of his trousers brushes my inner thighs. What kind of tableau must we make? Me, blindfolded and basically naked, restrained on a spanking bench while the most beautiful man in the world, dressed in a tuxedo that probably cost five figures, attempts to take me from behind.
All I know is, I’d love to see it.
But then Adam’s dragging his hot, blunt crown through my wet, swollen flesh, and I almost forget to breathe, because battery power has nothing on this.
He pushes in, wide and hard and insistent, grunting as he does, and I’m reminded that Adam Wright, esquire, is an animal beneath that fine tailoring. I squirm, using what little leverage I have to push back against him, to take him in more quickly.
‘Of all the women at Alchemy, I fell for the demure, hot-as-fuck little receptionist,’ he grits out, ‘and just fucking look at you now. You should see your cunt taking my cock. It’s truly incredible.’
I moan and roll my forehead against the bench’s uncomfortably hard head support. ‘You’re welcome.’
He chuckles darkly. ‘Christ above. Hang on tight.’
It’s lucky I have no leeway on this contraption, because he pushes all the way in, then, and really lets me have it, his drives a manifestation of the extreme pent-up frustration this man clearly has, because each rolling, perfect thrust has my muscle memory activating and my already-sated vagina getting ideas.
The dildo had nothing on this. Adam Wright is the king of fucking, and all I can do is lie here like this and let him unleash total havoc on my body. It’s as if the force of his desire, his desperation, is infectious. It’s so arousing to have him pump me like this, as though I’m the answer to every puzzle, every problem he’s ever encountered, like if he can just fuck me hard enough, bottom out deep enough inside my body, we’ll both emerge on the other side whole and new and awe-filled.
He’s shunting the breath out of my lungs, filling me with nothing but him. My muscles quicken impossibly, miraculously, that beautiful ache coming out of nowhere. He’s painting galaxies of need from a body that five minutes ago was sated beyond belief, spinning me higher, taking me with him as he weaves his magic.
As the flutters inside me grow stronger, sharper, more defined, more urgent, he fucks me and fucks me. I wrap my fingers around the curved ends of the arm supports and hang on for dear life as the man behind me, inside me, obliterates my sanity and turns me inside out for the second time tonight.
With my movements compromised, my only outlet for this extraordinary chemical reaction inside me is my voice. I’m screaming, I realise. I’m actually screaming his name, over and over and over, like a sacred mantra that’s my only tether to sanity. In return, his intoxicatingly low, male noises of effort and ecstasy grow louder, less contained.
‘Fuuuck, sweetheart,’ he groans as my body convulses around him. ‘Fuck! Fuck!’ With that exhortation, he grows wonderfully rigid before spilling himself deep inside me with violent jerks, his fingers white-knuckling my hip bones. As his shudders subside, he releases my hips and, sliding his hands up my back, he folds forward. I turn my head to the side, and he lays his face next to mine. His heart is hammering against my shoulder blade, his shirt crisp against my skin, his face hot against mine.
He kisses my temple so sweetly. ‘Give me just a sec,’ he whispers, and then he’s sliding out of me and getting to his feet. I hear the clinking of the curtain hooks being dragged across the window, and then he kneels before me again and pulls the knot on my blindfold loose. I raise my head with difficulty and blink at him.
I’m not sure there has never been a more tender, proud, adoring look on a man’s face than the one I see on Adam’s in this moment. I’m not sure his beautiful pale blue eyes could contain more emotion. I’m not sure I could feel more looking at any human on the planet than I do here in this room, after what we’ve just done.
He strokes my face. ‘Let’s get you out of these so I can carry you to the shower, and soap you up nice and gently, and tell you all the reasons why you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met,’ he whispers. ‘Then I want to dry you off, and lie you down, and rub some cream on that gorgeous bottom of yours, and tell you all over again. How does that sound?’
That all sounds truly excellent.