His Every Touch [The Complete Series] (6 page)

“Two.” She squirmed, feeling him growing hard beneath
her.
This time, when his hand made contact, he met already
tender flesh and she yelped before saying, “Three.” The fourth blow produced
similar results, but the fifth was the worst.
He made sure to catch both cheeks at the angle
necessary to rub her overstimulated clit against his leg and Courtney cried
out, body involuntarily bucking. Only at the last second did she remember to
call out, “Five.”
“Now.” His hand made soothing circles on her heated
skin. “Let's try again, shall we? I'll give you a moment to count and then I
want you to tell me how many times you climaxed while you were waiting for me.”
Desperate, she searched through the last hour. The
first three she remembered clearly. And the one with her fingers in her ass.
She flushed at that recollection. The last one, and the one right before Vance
had entered. She knew there were more, she just couldn't say for sure how many.
It was one giant haze of agonizing pleasure.
“Time's up.”
She spoke without hesitation. “Seven.”
He tossed her off his lap and she could see him
shaking his head as he stood. His erection tented his pants, confirming he was
enjoying this. “You're lying again.”
How did he know? Had he been watching on some hidden
camera? She wouldn't put it past him. Or was he simply guessing? If she tried
to press the issue and he was guessing, she could probably persuade him to
believe that she was telling the truth. On the other hand, if he had evidence
and she insisted she wasn't lying, she knew the punishment would be far more
severe and she had no desire to find out what that would be. Something dark
uncurled in her belly. Did she?
She decided to keep her mouth shut. Five with his
hand hadn't been too bad. Her ass was a bit tender now, but still less so than
her pussy.
“I think this calls for something other than my
hand.” He walked over to an antique wardrobe and unlocked it. His body blocked
its contents, but Courtney had a sinking feeling that she already knew what was
inside. When he turned back to her with a long, thin piece of wood, she knew
she was right.
“Besides.” His steps were slow and deliberate,
drawing out the tension. “My palm's a bit sore. Now, because this is your first
time, I'm going to give you a choice. Five strokes with the cane.” He slapped
the wood against his palm. “Or five strokes with my belt.” He ran his hand over
the buckle before dropping it to his crotch, massaging himself through the
material.
He wanted her to choose? How was she supposed to
answer? It wasn't like she'd done this before and knew how each would feel. Was
this some sort of test? If so, how was she supposed to pass? Wasn't he supposed
to tell her what to do? An idea sparked in her head. Desperately hoping she was
making the right choice, she said, “Whatever will please you, Sir.”
Vance blinked, a strange expression crossing his face
for just a brief moment before disappearing. He set down the cane and reached
for his belt buckle. He kept his eyes, now blazing blue fire, on her face, the
intensity making her want to look away, but she knew she wouldn't have dared,
even if she'd been able. As it was, his words froze her to the spot.
“Have you ever heard leather against flesh?” He
stepped closer to her. “It's different than any other sound. Almost like the
solid thump of a baseball into a glove. Somehow richer than a hand, softer than
a cane. It wraps around your flesh, an embrace, if you will. But what I like
the most about using a belt is the mental association.” He slowly pulled his
belt from the loops, the hiss of it sliding loud in the otherwise silent room.
“Now, whenever you see me wearing this belt, you'll remember the weight of it
on your body, the crack against your skin, how the warmth spread through every
cell.”
She swallowed hard, the hypnotic quality of his words
drawing her in, making her forget the sting of his hand, the nearly raw feeling
between her legs.
“And then there's the smell.” He made a loop and
wrapped it around his hand. “Experts say that scent is the most powerful memory
trigger. Expensive leather like this has a very distinctive smell.” He raised
the belt to his nose and took a deep breath. “You'll associate anything with
the same scent with this belt. You'll find yourself heating up, your pussy
getting wet, your clit throbbing. You'll have to bite your tongue to keep from
begging me to use it again, no matter where we are. You'll find yourself
fantasizing about me bending you over my desk, over the hood of my car. Pinning
you up against a wall in a bathroom, a changing room.”
He leaned down, holding the belt close to her face.
She didn't need to be told to breath it in. She'd always loved the smell of
leather and the idea that this scent would now trigger this memory, these
feelings, did things to her. Despite herself, she could feel a new wetness
between her thighs.
“On your feet,” Vance ordered.
She struggled to do as she was told, her muscles
protesting every movement, telling her that they didn't want to do anything
strenuous, not for another year at least. When she finally managed to get to
her feet, legs shaky, her face flamed as she felt her juices trickling down the
inside of her legs.
He ignored her embarrassment and took a step back.
“Stand behind the couch, hands on the back. I want your feet shoulder-length
apart and at least a foot from the couch.”
Each step sent a new sensation through her body. Her ass
was still warm from the previous spanking. The friction of her lower lips
rubbing together was nearly painful, but his words had wound her up enough that
there was an edge of pleasure there as well. Her heart was pounding. By the
time she'd assumed the position, she wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or come.
Possibly both. The air was cool against her sex as she parted her legs, fresh
wet coating the inside of her thighs.
“Count. There'll be no reminding this time.” He
crossed to stand behind her.
She nodded to show her understanding. Her teeth had
fastened on to her bottom lip to stop herself from protesting. Somehow, she
felt more exposed in this position than she had before.
“Let's give your ass a break for this,” his tone was
light, almost conversational.
She'd almost relaxed when she heard it. A split
second later, a sharp, wide sting looped around her ribcage, the end snapping
against the underside of her right breast. The heat came immediately after, a
warmth that spread out from the initial point of contact in a way totally
different than his hand.
“One,” she remembered almost instantly. This wasn't
too bad.
The second blow came from the opposite direction and
Courtney had a vague recollection of an interview that said Vance was
ambidextrous. “Two.”
Only when the third stroke descended, did she
understand the true nature of the belt. The warmth from where he'd first
connected leather to skin exploded as the blows overlapped. It wasn't enough to
bring tears to her eyes, but it did hurt more than his hand had.
“Three,” she gasped, her back and side quivering. Her
breast stung from where the end had met her flesh. She couldn't hold back her
whimper as the next lash wrapped further around, the tip meeting her nipple.
“Four, fuck.”
“I think we need something a bit more harsh for this
last one, after all, you did lie. Twice,” his voice lowered, took on a
dangerous note. “Brace yourself.”
He said the words but didn't give her a chance to
react. Time seemed to slow as her body and mind processed what had happened.
The leather strap came up between her legs, first coming in contact with her
swollen lips, heating them instantly. The last couple inches curved up around
her, ending with direct contact on her sore clit. Not even a second had passed
between the blow and her reaction, but it stretched out for what seemed like
years. Agony and ecstasy mixed, rocking through her, and she shrieked, knees
buckling. Yet, in all that, some part of her mind managed to force out a single
word. “Five!” She crumpled to the ground, dragging air into her lungs with
wordless sobs as her entire body convulsed with the force of her orgasm.
“Shh.” He crouched next to her. “You did so well,
Court. So well.” His hand brushed over her hair.
She let his words wash over her, a strange sense of
pride chasing away her embarrassment at having come from being whipped,
soothing the sharp pricks of pain still shooting up through her body. Her skin
tingled, hummed and she knew that even the lightest of feather touches would
carry the heaviest of weight. Her pussy burned with a not-totally-unpleasant
heat and her clit throbbed, feeling swollen to nearly twice its normal size.
His hand slid from the top of her head down to her
chin, tipping her face up to look at him. “How many times did you come?”
“I don't know, Sir.” The truth lifted a weight with
it and her shoulders sagged with the almost physical relief. She would take her
punishment with gratitude. “I lost count.”
Vance sighed and stood. He held out a hand to help
Courtney to her feet. She took it, unsure if she'd be able to stand any other
way.
“You disobeyed a direct order, however unintentional,
then lied about it twice. If you'd intended to disobey, your punishment would
have been quite severe. Had you been honest from the first, it would have been
less so. As it stands, you must bear the consequences of your actions and you
need a reminder, something you will keep in mind should you be tempted to
lapse...or lie.”
She swallowed hard. Her knees were still weak, the
muscles in her legs trembled as she shifted her weight. She was only vaguely
aware that she was still naked. What once would've been cause for her to blush
now seemed tame in comparison to what she'd just been through.
“I keep a few things in here, but the majority of
my...toys.” He paused to choose a word. “Are in a different room.” He threaded
his fingers through hers. “Come with me.”
Refusal never crossed her mind. She obediently
followed him down the hallway to a door.

***

Courtney could hear the steady beating of his heart
beneath her ear, feel his deep rhythmic breathing. Her head rose and fell with
his chest, his skin softer beneath her cheek than she'd have thought possible.
She'd touched him before, of course, but after this night, somehow she thought
he would feel different, as if his physical being would've altered with her
shift in perspective.
She wasn't sure if Vance was awake; she didn't look
to see. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. She didn't want to talk to him. Her
head was already a mess and conversation would probably just make things more
difficult.
Her feelings about what had transpired in the last
few hours were mixed and she couldn't determine which was dominant. While it
was happening, she'd felt as if she'd been in a bubble, as if everything
outside of this house had disappeared. It was only her and Vance. Nothing else
in the world existed but them and what their bodies did to and for each other.
She didn't know when it had started, if she'd already been lost when he had
arrived or if it had been when she hadn't stopped him from using his belt. Had
she given in the moment she stepped foot inside the house or not until she
followed him into the basement? She didn't know, and that not knowing bothered
her more than the actual experience.
Then there were the physical consequences. Her entire
body ached and pulsed like one giant bruise. Even now, she couldn't breathe or
shift without a twinge and she didn't want to think about how stiff and sore
she'd be in the morning. Her pussy felt raw and the mere thought of another
orgasm made her want to whimper. She'd never experienced that many climaxes in
a single month, let alone a day. In a space of one night, Vance had changed
everything. This wasn't some theoretical “follow the rules or be punished” scenarios.
He'd actually followed through. There were very real consequences that she
wasn't likely to forget any time soon.
Courtney flattened her hand on Vance's stomach. A
part of her wanted to slide it lower, slip beneath the blanket and grip his
cock, marvel in the feel of it swelling beneath her touch. The velvet skin
stretching to accommodate the growing steel beneath. She would stroke him from
base to crown with firm, even movements designed to bring him to the edge as
quickly as possible. One final twist would be all that was needed for him to
spill over her hand, his seed warm and sticky on her skin.
But another part of her, growing louder all the time,
wanted to know what she was doing, lying here with this man who had just put
her through one of the most grueling nights she'd ever experienced, caused her
pain and confusion, made her question everything she'd ever believed in.
Granted, the pleasure had been outrageous as well, but was any amount of
pleasure worth what she'd gone through to get it?
She had no idea what she was going to do.

****

Yesterday, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about
Courtney all day, imagining her sitting on his couch, legs spread wide, fingers
in her pussy, rubbing her clit. He'd been hard from the moment he'd given her
the instructions, and the drive home from work wasn't helping. At every stop
sign or light, images flashed through his mind, at one point nearly making him
miss the change to green.
Courtney's head fell back against the couch, her
ash blond hair fanning out across the blue-gray material. Her full breasts
heaved with every breath and her fingers rolled her rose-colored nipples into
hard pebbles. Her pussy gleamed in the dim lamplight, her fine curls damp.
Her fingers slowly trailed across her folds, fingertips
ghosting oversensitive flesh. Her skin glistened with sweat, air puffing
between parted lips as her orgasm built once more.
She cried out his name the moment she touched her
clit, her other hand going to work between her legs. Her fingers slipped easily
between her folds, instantly slick with her copious juices.
By the time he was halfway home, his fantasies had
changed from what he knew Courtney was doing to what he wanted to do to her,
what he'd been wanting to do to her for years.
Her pale flesh was criss-crossed with red stripes
and still he brought down the cane. The wood whistled through the air, the
sound making him impossibly hard, and when the loud crack mingled with a sob,
he nearly came in his pants.
He tugged on the scarves that held her to the
bedposts, making sure she couldn't pull free. She stared up at him, dark gray
eyes wide and frightened. His eyes felt on fire as they met hers and she read
everything there.
He thrust into her, fingers tangled in her hair as
he drove as deep as her body would allow. She pleaded with him, but never said
the one word that would stop him. He didn't pause; his hips never faltered. Her
breasts jiggled, swaying beneath her and he reached down to squeeze one.
His cock rubbed against the damp cotton of his
boxer-briefs as he walked up the stairs to his front door. He'd been seconds
from coming most of the day and the sight of Courtney's clothes on the floor,
his floor, nearly undid him. He kicked off his shoes and slipped out of his
jacket. Then he heard her—the panting breaths, the unmistakable slide of flesh
against wet flesh. He'd fully intended to stroll into the living room the
moment he'd arrived and assume power, but now, something held him back. He kept
to the shadows as he approached, angling himself so he could see what she was
doing without her seeing him.
Her eyes were closed, head back like it had been in
his fantasy. Her nipples were a darker pink than usual, the tips elongated and
swollen, and he knew she'd been playing with them. Her legs were parted and
both hands were between her thighs. He couldn't see precisely what she was
doing, but his imagination was good enough to picture at least two fingers in
her cunt, pumping away, while her other hand worked at her clit. Her face was
contorted in a combination of pleasure and pain, and he knew she'd done as
she'd been told. She must have climaxed a dozen times based on what he knew of
her responsiveness and how long she'd been at it. Her clit would be so tender
that even the least bit of friction would feel like ten times more. Her body
would be begging for her to stop, that it had had enough.
“Please...”
The near agony lacing the word as it spilled out of
her over and over again was too much and Vance shuddered as he came. He choked
back a groan as his cock pulsed and twitched, emptying. Fuck. He hadn't come in
his pants since he'd been a teenager and had caught a glimpse of Courtney's
pale green panties on a windy day. Shit. It all came back to her, didn't it? He
put one hand on the wall and took a deep breath, fighting for control. After a
moment, nerves still humming, he took a step out of the shadows.
“One more time and you can stop.”