She belongs with me.
Declan outstretched his hand and lightly caressed her skin to soothe her. The back of his tanned hand was at least three shades darker than her back. Declan wondered if his calluses felt like sandpaper against her skin. Did they remind her that he practiced regularly with a whip? Her trembling diminished considerably with his caresses.
I love to work Charlotte’s body to a frenzy and bring it back down again. Up. Down. If I wanted, I could tease her to the brink of climax and pull back again. But that would just distract me from what I really want to do.
Declan kept one hand resting on the small of her back and he reached into his bag to retrieve the flogger. He ran his fingers through the heavy tendrils of the custom elk flogger he cradled in his hand. Declan had given her little information about what to expect. He couldn’t tell her it would just be a sensual flogging, she might get aroused at just the mere thought. Where would the fun in that be? No, he kept his plans shrouded in mystery. He wanted Charlotte to imagine that he might cause her physical pain. He needed her to submit to that idea and accept that it was his hands delivering both pleasure and pain to her body.
He draped the flogger’s tendrils on Charlotte’s bare back, relishing the shivers he elicited from her skin with the feel of the cold leather. Her nervousness was already causing her skin to perspire, an early indication of a healthy endocrine system. Declan recalled the demonstration about endorphin reaction to pain from Owen. A professional tattooist, Owen demonstrated what happened when he tattooed a rather large piece between the shoulder blades of a twenty-something female. She was covered in sweat and goose bumps; the physical manifestation of the body’s endorphin reaction to the pain.
Declan dragged the fingers of the flogger along Charlotte’s skin, the full weight caressing her spine. It served to warm the tendrils as much as it focused her attention where he wanted it. He swiped it in a lazy pattern up one side of her spine and down the other. Then from one shoulder blade diagonally to the opposite hip, across her buttocks, and up the other diagonal. He weaved one design after another, changing direction, changing pattern, but always at a slow, controlled speed. Declan had all the time in the world. The longer he performed this ritual, the more confidence she would have in his control.
He turned his wrist slowly over her buttocks so the strands slid down her inner thighs, but only a few at a time. Glistening wetness along her slit caught his eye as he was about to move to the other side. Declan gripped the handle of the flogger tighter so she wouldn’t be able to feel his hand shaking. It took a lot of willpower to keep himself from stopping to take advantage of her slickness.
A sudden wave hit Declan’s nostrils; the scent of her unmistakable arousal penetrated his senses. He froze for a moment and held his breath. He tried not to imagine himself tearing open his pants and ripping her in two with his cock. It would be so easy to do.
Not yet. Wait. Breathe.
Declan closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. For a few seconds he concentrated solely on breathing. In. And out. Deep cleansing breaths. In. Out.
Better.
He regained a sense of calm. He was in total control. Declan methodically continued to weave a path across her back, buttocks, and thighs, lifting the flogger a little more with each pass until he held most of the weight of it, and the tips were the only part in contact with Charlotte’s body. Her skin bubbled up in gooseflesh, and Declan heard her make a noise for the first time since he began. She moaned. She’s ready.
Declan lifted the flogger, and moving his wrist in a small circle, he brought the mop down on the fleshiest part of her ass with a thud. He locked his gaze on her body to catch any reaction. Charlotte froze in place. He dragged the device over the spot he’d just mildly assaulted and observed her muscles release the tension they were holding.
Good girl.
He wanted to tell her aloud how proud he was of her, but Declan wanted her to remain focused solely on the flogger. There’d be plenty of time afterward for praise.
Declan lifted the device for another swing and watched intently. The flogger was too heavy to sting, but this was her first flogging and she got so easily startled. Her panicky brain could easily convince her that his actions amounted to an assault. He needed to take it slow until she relaxed more.
The second swing was better. She tensed for a moment but then relaxed on her own. He caressed her with the mop anyway. He needed her to know that she was doing exactly what he wanted. The following two strokes showed progressive improvement. Her breathing began to normalize, and she hardly tensed at all when the strands left her body the second before the strike. Declan started a slow, steady rhythm of swings. Each blow landed adjacent to the previous blow. One heavy thud after the next with only a brief moment of silence between. He found himself falling into a hypnotic trance. Charlotte’s breathing turned so heavy at one point; it was as though she fell asleep.
After covering most of her back and thighs, Declan decided it was time to increase the intensity to warming strokes on her buttocks. He swung the flogger in a larger circle, using more of his bicep to force it around and onto her ass. The thud was only slightly louder, but the force increased, causing Charlotte’s skin to ripple as the impact traveled along the underlying tissue. Charlotte’s breathing grew shallow momentarily, then resumed the deeper rhythm. He repeated the same stroke. Again. Again. Again.
Declan lifted the flogger to gauge how warm the area was becoming. She was already a deep scarlet.
Don’t you just love fair skin? It reddens so easily.
He resisted running his palm over the warmth. He knew if he did, he would chuck the flogger and get on with fucking her. Neither one of them was ready for that yet. Instead, Declan concentrated on the other side and warmed it to the same beautiful red.
With the entire area warmed, the real flogging could begin. He spread his stance to shoulder-width and angled his body to hers, he checked the distance for a full swing. There wasn’t much science to flogging. It was much simpler than wielding a single tail whip, but still it took some bit of finesse. His wrist needed to remain stable so the ends of the flogger didn’t snap her opposite thigh. Lack of control would cause Charlotte a nasty sting and ugly red marks that looked too much like tiny blooms of acne for Declan’s liking. No, the redness needed to bloom from her beautiful canvas carefully. Flogging was an art.
Summoning the full strength of his shoulder and back muscles, Declan rounded his arm, landing the heavy tendrils hard across the center of Charlotte’s ass. Groaning, she tightened her butt cheeks for a moment. God, how adorable.
Another round swing and a heavy thud on the same spot elicited a similar response. Declan paused to check her breathing. It was shallower. He was certain she could feel the pain. He’d instructed her to tell him when she thought she was getting close to her limit. So far, not a peep. Declan checked his position for another swing. He had to consciously make himself do it. Sometimes when things seemed effortless to him, he had a tendency to fuck them up. He couldn’t afford to fuck this up. Not if he wanted Charlotte to do this again. It was something he not only wanted, but needed from Charlotte. It centered him in a way that nothing else could.
The mild whirring sound of the tendrils moved through the air. Charlotte groaned when they landed on her ass. Her hands tightened to fists in their bindings.
“Master …”