Especially when it tumbled out of her again—the very second he walked to the cabinet beside the vanity and pried the brand-new curling wand out of its pristine plastic package nest.
“Now look at this,” he said, purposely exaggerating his amazement. “A new toy for your new look, sweetheart? I think it’s just begging us to break it in properly.”
Jayd only whimpered a reply, though her legs visibly trembled. Holy shit. If her thighs were doing that, Brick could only imagine the party along her inner walls too. He was certain she wasn’t viewing things that way, but the woman wasn’t officially restrained. If she wasn’t jiving with his wild turn of freaky, she had the freedom to bolt.
When he turned fully back with the iron in hand, dragging the unplugged cord behind him, she still didn’t move.
And in the process blew his mind to smithereens.
Never had he encountered an untried, unbound subbie like this before. So brave, even knowing what he wanted to try with her. So ready to keep pleasing him despite the crazy position into which he’d pretzeled her. Still holding her thighs wide, her ass up, and her arms in place despite the blue goo spackled across them. Still not uttering a word, even as Brick repositioned himself between her legs.
“My God, you dazzle me,” he confessed in a low growl. “How you make me want to hurl this thing away and fuck you until we’re a pair of screaming Smurfs… But discipline has to happen here, sweetheart. You’ll take it for me, right? You’ll make me proud?”
She only gave him her hard, deliberating breaths. Brick braced himself to watch her delectable ass as she scrambled from the room, desperate to be away from him forever. Though it wouldn’t be his first experience with a mortified subbie who’d claimed she could take the hard stuff, he had a feeling this would sting the deepest. Too deep for comfort.
But then she nodded up at him.
She was a little wan and a lot shaky, but those tiny jerks were definitely nods of concession.
And fuck him if her gorgeous orifice, spread for him like a decadent dessert, didn’t weep with some thicker tears of blatant arousal.
“Damn me to the best chambers of hell,” he grated. “This might be a little fun, after all.”
Jayd’s heart was in her throat. Her mind—at least the sane part—was gone. Her arms trembled, and her legs were naught but collections of wild tingles. At least she knew the reason for that. All the blood between her toes and hips was a massive pool of sensation between her legs.
The part of her subjected to every degree of Brickham’s hot cobalt stare.
The part of her that became a matching broiler of arousal.
The part of her that sent a harsh gasp up to her mouth as soon as he slid the cold steel into her pussy.
Oh, dear heavens.
It was an instant invasion. A slow, sinister thrust wielded by a wickedly smiling god. It was strange and ruthless and persistent, and yet she choked harder as her tender tissues flexed to welcome it. She was stunned to hear the soft slicks, generated by her own body, as Brickham started some gentle pumps of the steel shaft.
Stars and saints!
Was she really doing this?
Was she really letting him do this?
Was she really liking it?
No. That was not the right word. Or was it? How did she feel about this? It was not sheer bliss, of that she was certain. But there were parts of her that called out for more. That begged her to endure, to continue…to persevere. It was a new and fascinating feeling. A place where she was wide open, fully bare…utterly free.
“That’s it. What a good girl you are.”
Brickham’s voice was strong in her mind but fuzzy in her senses. Even so, she had never felt more connected to him. More sewn into his shadows. The darkness was cruel and illicit as he had warned her—but she did not want to leave.
She wanted more.
So much more.
“My God. You’re drenching this thing, sweetheart. What a naughty Pixie you are, getting so wet even in your punishment.” With his free hand, the man started stroking circles through the drenched curls of her mons, once more taunting close to her engorged little button. So close…but not close enough. “I think your cunt wants more of this big fuck stick. And I think I’m going to grant its wish.”
She was certain she drew blood from biting her lower lip. It was her only defense against spewing with a wry comeback. What that retort would have been, she would never know—because the next moment, he took complete control of her mind as well as her senses.
The penetration was overwhelming. Overpowering. Deep and painful.
And perfect.
Everything in the world went away. Her worries. Her stresses. Her identity and all her confusion about it. Right now, she had only one persona. One purpose. To please her Master with the gift of her body.
It was enough. She was enough.
“Breathe, Pixie.”
She heard his exhortation at the edges of her awareness, and she obeyed. The focus opened more than her lungs. In the depths of her channel, the rod plunged farther.
“Good girl. Such a good little fuck toy. You can take more, Jayd. Do it for me.”
She took another huge breath.
More slides of wet friction in the air.
More pushes of the steel cock inside her body.
“Jesus Christ.” Brickham’s voice grew thick with a new intent. Something that had woven a strange softness into his gruffness. “I’ve been a hundred places on this planet and never seen anything so…” He stopped on a tight cough. “You take my breath away, Pixie. You just—”
When he interrupted himself again, this time to pull the rod all the way out and cast it aside, she knew not whether to worry or rejoice. Had she inadvertently done something wrong? Moved or cried out against his wishes?
But as the iron clattered to the floor and he ripped at the drawstring on his scrubs, she had her answer—and it was good.
So. Very. Good.
“Goddammit.” Brickham fisted the gleaming, glorious length of his penis. “Fuck it.” He lined it up with her gaping entrance. “Oh, fuck me.”
And then, in one long lunge, impaled himself inside her.
“Ohhh!”
Holding back rain would have been easier than controlling her scream. She just prayed, as a matching torrent welled up from her chest and burst from her eyes, that Brickham was no longer in disciplinary mode.
“Yes,” he snarled, locking his cobalts on her with an array of clear intents. None of them were penalization, but they were also far from praising warmth. He was still her captivating overlord. Her magnificent tyrant. Her roiling, unforgiving beast of lust. “Don’t hide a drop of those tears from me, sweetheart. Not a note of your screams either. I’ll have it all from you, little subbie—the same way I’m taking every inch of this.”
His context needed no explanation, but he gave it anyway. With barely a grunt of strain, the man wrapped his hands around her thighs from the outside in. His grip was massive and strong, taking on most of her weight—as well as full control of how their bodies grinded into each other. Oh yes, including the pressure of his pelvis against a wider swath of her pussy. Oh yes, including the harder drive of his shaft into the darkest reaches of her body. Oh yes, including how the smacks of their flesh hit the tiled walls like the most stunning symphony she had ever heard.