Jenna Black - Speak of the Devil

He followed up with more strokes of the feather, easing the faint sting. He repeated the process several more times, waiting until the tickle of the feather was driving me so crazy I forgot to brace against the spank. I jumped and squealed every time, only belatedly realizing that he hadn’t really hurt me.

Somewhere along the line, I recognized the similarity between this situation and the erotic dream Lugh had created for me, but I was way too tense for this to be erotic. Of course, it also wasn’t a dream.

When the tickle of the feather finally ended, I was momentarily relieved even as my cheeks clenched in anticipation. The relief dissolved into anxiety when nothing happened, and I realized that once again I had no idea where Brian was. Had he gone to pick out another “toy”? Was he standing there staring at me, watching me squirm and loving every minute of it? Hell, for all I knew, he’d gone out to watch a ball game on TV! For the record, being blindfolded sucks!

Once again, my sense of time got seriously distorted as I waited in nervous anticipation for whatever was to come next. My jaw muscles were getting tired from the gag—I felt like I’d been sitting in the dentist’s chair while someone kept telling me to “open wide” for an hour. And I was more than ready to lose the fuck-me pumps that were forcing all of my weight onto the balls of my feet—and not, so far at least, getting me fucked.

I was surreptitiously trying to wiggle my ankles around to restore circulation to my toes when a new tickle made me jump for the millionth time. Was it possible to run out of adrenaline? Because it seemed like I should have done so by now.

At first, I didn’t know what was causing the tickle. It was something bigger and more diffuse than the feather, and Brian was dragging it up the side of my body. I had to stifle a laugh, because my sides are super ticklish. Then I started going over in my mind the items Dominic had put in the care package, and recognition shivered through me. This was the multi-thonged whip.

Nope, definitely not out of adrenaline. I started breathing hard, and I forgot all about the discomfort of the gag and the shoes. I did not want Brian to hit me with this thing! He was dragging it over my back right now, the long suede thongs paradoxically soft against my skin. I let out a little whimper.

“Remember,” Brian said, “you can always drop the ball.”

My jaws tightened reflexively on the ball. I was not going to chicken out now. I’d survived the hell that Adam had put me through; if I could survive that, it seemed almost silly to be afraid of anything that Brian might do.

He teased me a bit more with the whip, swinging it lightly so that the thongs brushed over my ass, letting me think about what it would feel like if he really did haul back and hit me with it. But of course, he didn’t.

Brian let out a dramatic sigh. “Considering some of the crap you’ve pulled in the last couple of months, the idea of tanning your ass with this thing has some serious appeal. However, Dominic’s note says I’d need to practice before using it, so I guess I’m SOL.”

My heart bled for him. Really.

“Of course,” he continued, “I could just use my hand. I bet I can manage that without any practice at all.”

There was a long, pregnant pause. I imagined he was watching the ball very carefully, waiting to see if I’d drop it. I certainly didn’t want him to spank me, but if that was what it took to convince him to give me another chance, then I’d take it willingly. Which didn’t mean I wasn’t relieved as hell when he let out a regretful little sigh that told me he wasn’t going to do it.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I have the patience for it right now,” he said, and I didn’t immediately know what he meant.

I groaned in relief when he removed the gag. My jaw muscles screamed in protest as I closed my mouth, but I was really glad to be able to swallow normally again.

Brian freed first my right hand, then my left from the bedposts. It was only then that I realized my shoulders had been getting pretty tired of being stretched out like that.

I figured he’d take the blindfold off next, but he didn’t. Instead, he took my hands and pulled them behind my back. Apparently, those fur-lined cuffs could be connected together. I guess this wasn’t over yet, after all.

He turned me around to face him, and I came very close to doing a not-so-graceful nosedive into the floor. Brian steadied me with his hands.

“Maybe we’d better get you off your feet before one of us ends up in the emergency room,” he said, and though he wasn’t laughing, I could hear the smile in his voice.

By “off your feet” he meant “on your knees,” a fact I was able to divine without any further prompting from him. He kept his hands on me the whole way down, making sure I didn’t topple over. I heard the jingle of his belt buckle, then the rasp of his zipper. I sucked in my cheeks and flexed my jaw a bit, hoping I’d be able to manage a good blow job after spending however long that had been with the ball gag in my mouth.

“Open wide,” Brian commanded, and there was still that smile in his voice. I was kind of glad for the blindfold all of a sudden, because I didn’t much want to see how much he’d been enjoying himself— although I guessed I was about to get some pretty concrete evidence in my mouth.

I love giving Brian blow jobs. His pleasure in it is downright contagious. But after everything that had gone between us lately, I couldn’t just swallow him without a word of affection, especially not when I was kneeling at his feet, blindfolded and with my hands tied behind my back.

“I love you,” I murmured, and to my surprise, tears sprang into my eyes behind the blindfold.

Brian’s hands caressed my hair, then slid down to gently cup my cheeks. The tenderness of the touch brought even more tears to my eyes.

“I love you, too,” he said, then pushed the blindfold up and out of the way.

I got a quick glimpse of his rampant arousal before he fell to his knees in front of me and seized my mouth for a hard, passionate kiss. I opened wide for him, all right, my mouth, my heart, my soul. Kissing me all the time, he fumbled at the cuffs that bound my hands and managed to get them off by feel.

As far as I had noticed, nothing he’d done to me while I was bound had aroused me in the slightest. And yet now, only moments after he’d freed me, I was desperate to have him inside me. Luckily, he seemed to feel the same way.

Who needs a bed when you’ve got a perfectly good floor available? Before I knew it, Brian had rolled me under himself, away from the bed. My thong panties were flimsy enough that he was able to rip them off with one quick jerk. And then he was making love to me, his strokes hard, and masterful, and perfect. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, tears falling unheeded from my eyes as I clung with everything I had.

Afterward, Brian rolled to the side, pulling me with him. He was still buried inside me, and I pressed as close to him as was humanly possible.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” I said as I pressed my lips to his chest and tasted the salt of his sweat. “Of all the bad things that have happened to me, that was the worst.”

He squeezed me even tighter, so hard I practically couldn’t breathe. “I didn’t like it so much, either. It seems like whatever either one of us does, we always end up back together. Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something.”

“Maybe so,” I agreed, raising my head so I could meet his eyes. And maybe, just this once, I would actually listen to what the universe was saying.

Later, when we were both recovered enough to stand and were both feeling a little awkward and shy with each other, Brian showed me the “instructions” Dominic had written him: