Salvation Read Online Jane Henry (NYC Doms #4)

Categories Genre: Angst, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: NYC Doms Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
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She’s panting and quaking, but she nods her head vigorously. “Yes,” she says. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” I tell her. Leaning in, I kiss the tender, damp skin between her thighs. “Now for your exam.”

Chapter Nine

Chandra

I knew he had it in him. I knew there was a devious, twisted, salacious mind behind those kind eyes and witty tongue. He kept himself back from me, letting out his inner demons so rarely that I only caught glimpses. I knew he craved feeding me pain and controlling me, and that he held himself back.

Now, here, while I’m strapped to this table and at his mercy, I can see how he’s embraced the sadist within, and hell I want this.

I want to hurt, and I’m not sure why. I can’t fathom the idea of random pain, but carefully meted out at the hands of the man I trust is something altogether different.

My body tingles and pulses beneath him, every nerve a live wire of anticipation, sizzling and snapping with energy. When he drags his silky mouth and rough whiskers along my inner thighs, I moan. He licks and suckles my skin, and my pussy tenses with need. My tortured nipples throb, full and peaked from the punishment and pleasure he’s inflicted.

Reaching for my ass, he squeezes the punished skin, then he shifts his hand to where he’s plugged me. I feel so damn full. I need to climax.

“Sir,” I whimper. “Axle.”

“Your breasts are perfect,” he says, leaning in just to touch his tongue to one peaked bud one at a time. Then he pulls away and continues his inspection. “A beautiful pink pussy that needs to be punished,” he says thoughtfully, while he runs his hand between my legs.

“Punished?” I ask, my pulse spikes a split second before he slaps my pussy lips, hard. I yelp, and he spanks me again, and again.

“Yes, punished,” he says, then he reaches for my ass and pinches it before he taps his hand against the plug. I hiss, but he ignores me. “Lay here while I get my tools,” he says.

I shudder, wondering what he’ll bring. What sort of tools do they use on an exam table?

What am I doing here? But when he comes back he just has a thin leather flogger in his hand, and what looks like a plastic rod. I cringe looking at them but at the very same time, I feel arousal coat my thighs. This is completely out of my control, and I fucking love that.

Trust him, I remind myself. Live in the moment.

“Close your eyes, Chandra,” he instructs, his voice so deep but soft, it reassures me. I obey. “You don’t open them unless I instruct you.”

I feel him circling me again, then I jump when the soft tickle of the flogger hits my thigh. “Lie still, and let me examine you,” he orders, his voice as sharp as the pain he inflicts. The flogger kisses my thigh, a flurry of tingling smacks that sting and burn but quickly fade to warmth. My instinct is to fold my arms across my chest and cover my private parts, but I can’t when I’m restrained like this. I shiver, my skin flaming hot and sensitized with the licks of the flogger’s tongue.

Then he stops. I catch my breath. I need more. My thighs quiver and my pussy clenches. I need him to touch me.

I gasp when something cool probes my thighs.

“Open,” he instructs, underscoring his command with a smack that whooshes through the air and lands on my inner thighs. I yelp when he strikes me again and again. I imagine welts rising along the tender skin of my thighs and want to clench my legs together to protect myself. My heartbeat thunders in my chest, my breath caught in my throat.

“Axle,” I whisper, pleading, but my words fall on deaf ears. I’m not sure I like this.

But then the pain is gone, and his woodsy, masculine scent fills me. His heat tingles along my skin, his mouth at my ear. “Open.”

Trembling, I part my legs. I’m so on edge I can’t control the shaking, but then his strong, rough hands are at my knees, holding me. “Good girl,” he tells me. “Let me kiss it better.”

His mouth is at the bruised and swollen flesh at my thighs.

“I wanted to push you to safeword,” he confesses, a note of regret in his voice. “But you won’t, will you?”

“No,” I whisper. My throat tightens. I want to open my eyes, but I want to obey him even more. “Why would I ever need to safeword with you?”

“I’m not safe, Chandra.” He brushes my thighs with his lips, soft and sweet, and my head falls back, my eyes squeezing closed tighter. I’m growing accustomed to the low throb between my thighs, and pulse of need. I’m riding it like a high. I can control this. I can take this. I’m strong, and I can do this.


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