Slingshot by K.L. Savage

Idry her off with her towel and make sure I get every inch of her. “Go kneel in the middle of the bed,” I say when I think she’s dry enough.

My voice is deeper, harsher, and my cock is still fucking solid since I only got a quick taste of her in the elevator. I’m thrumming with the need to fuck.

I don’t want to make love.

I don’t want to go easy.

I want to fuck my wife the way I’ve wanted to since the day I saw her.

And it’s going to annihilate us both.

“Brush your hair beforehand. A comb is on the nightstand,” I remember, not wanting her hair to get tangled because I didn’t take care of it when it was wet.

“Yes, Sir.” Natalia scurries away, and I can hear the brush of tangles working through the bristles.

I love how she listens to me.

I dry off next and then grip the edge of the vanity to calm myself. I’m excited and nervous. I had a few things delivered in the nick of time. If I knew how much money made the world fall at your fingertips, I might have used it more often.

Natalia is unaware of the things I bought, and I think she’ll like them, but I can’t be sure. We’ve only scratched the very surface of her submission. I don’t even know if I’d call myself a Dom, but what I do know is I love to please her, take care of her, and when she wants to submit, I want to give her a reason to.

I’ll be whatever she needs me to be if it makes her happy.

I look at myself in the mirror and slap my face a few times. “You got this, damn it. Don’t fuck it up.” I point at my reflection in the mirror, giving myself a weak pep-talk.

Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me?

I flip the light off as I strut out of the bathroom. I keep my head high, and my chest puffed out because….well, just fucking because.

Natalia is in the middle of the bed, kneeling as she did in the shower. Her hair is brushed and in long, perfectly straight sections down her back. Her perky tits are on display and my mouth salivates to taste the cherry reds. Her shoulders rise and fall in quick beats.

She’s nervous, or maybe it’s just anticipation, I don’t know.

I hope it’s a little of both.

The moonlight filters in through the window, illuminating the bronze hues of Natalia’s skin. Her raven tendrils shine, and her long lashes flutter, casting shadows over the tops of her cheeks. My cock leaks precome at the sight.

She seems so small, so fragile, so delicate, but I know better.

She’s killed a man.

And fragile women don’t kill men. Weak women don’t trust someone with their submission.

Only the strongest do.

“You see these bags, Good Girl?” I point to the coffee table at the foot of the bed.

She only nods.

“What was that?” I give her a light tap on the ass.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Would you like to know what’s in them?”

“Please, Sir.”

I walk until I’m standing behind the coffee table, the bags blocking her view of my cock once she lifts her head. “I want you to crawl to them.” Talking to her like this is natural; the statements flow out of my lips effortlessly. “Don’t keep me waiting, Natalia.” The edge to my words has her lifting her head, and like a scared cat, she places one hand in front of the other, slowly crawling to me.

Mmmm, perfection.

The hourglass outline of her body had to have been shaped just for me. The round mountain of her ass is just a tease at this angle. I can see the shadow between her cheeks, hiding everything I want. She has two dimples on her lower back, begging for my tongue to dip in and taste.

A piece of her hair drags along the comforter while she comes closer to me. She kneels again when she reaches the edge, and her palms lay flat against the top of her thighs.

“Anything you don’t want to try, we won’t. Reach for the first bag on the left, “ I instruct.

She reaches for the light blue bag and pulls out small toys. Nothing special. We have a bullet that I plan on keeping on her clit until it vibrates her off the fucking bed with how many orgasms she will have. Nipple clamps, which I know she will like. And there are a few plugs. I plan on stretching her gorgeous ass for me tonight, but I won’t take her there. Not for a while. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt my good girl.

The other plug….well, that’s to keep my come inside her.

“While you unwrap your other gifts, I want you to put the nipple clamps on.”

Her eyes widen, and a pink hue runs down her neck. She doesn’t question me. She hisses when she places the clamp on one, then groans when she clips it on the other. There’s a metal chain that connects them, and I lean forward to give it a tug.

She cries out, tossing her head back as she tries to catch a needy breath.

“Mmm, that will most definitely do.” I wrap one hand around myself and squeeze. “Next bag.” I swipe my thumb over my slit and gather my precome, then gloss her lips with it.

Fucking all dressed up now and about to get completely wrecked.

Just how I like her.

She opens a matte black bag next and pulls out a riding crop with Velcro handcuffs. I wanted her to feel safe to where she could escape the restraints if she wanted. I know there have been a few times when she has been bound without her permission, and I never want to make her feel like she isn’t safe.

She swallows and lays the items beside her.

“What’s your color for those, Good Girl?”

“Green, Sir.”

It’s quickly becoming my new favorite color.

“Last bag.” I point.

Her brows dip in confusion when she turns it upside down and shakes it.

“It’s empty,” she says with a cute pout.

“Oh, you can’t see them, but that’s all the orgasms you’re about to have,” I joke, wanting to lighten the tension I see in her eyes. She’s nervous.

She grins wide and laughs, a musical sound that lets me know I made the right choice.

“You’re so silly….Sir.”

I prowl around the bed and grip her by the back of the neck. “Damn right I am.” I yank her to me, crashing our lips together to silence her laughs. They quickly turn into moans, and since she’s preoccupied with kissing me, I velcro the bands around her wrist, pull them over her head, and drag her to the top of the bed.

“Playtime is over, Good Girl.” I take the extra strap that came with the cuffs and use it to secure her to the iron rods of the headboard.

The people who designed this room knew exactly what they were doing when they put a headboard like this in here. It’s perfect for bondage.

I wrap the other pair of cuffs around her ankles and tie the ends to the bedpost. Her legs are spread, her hands are bound, and she looks ready to devour.

“Color.”

“Green, Sir.” She wiggles, trying to press her legs together but can’t. She whimpers, and the sound seeps into my cock, causing another bead of precome to form at the sight.

I bend over and tug on the chain connecting the nipple clamps, and she arches her back, whining from pleasure and pain stinging the irritated buds.

“So responsive, Good Girl.” I pick up the riding crop next, and I slap it against my palm. “I think you deserve a spanking for your little outburst, don’t you?”

She shakes her head as she stares at the long, black leather crop. It’s sleek, the leather is soft, smooth as butter and there is a flogger on the other end of the handle. It’s a two-in-one, but I don’t think she’s ready for the flogger.

Yet.

I drape the leather tassels on her chest so she can feel them. They will be great for sensory play if she wants to go down that route. We have forever. There is no need to rush the learning process. I just want her to give in to her needs. I want her to show me her limits when it comes to being submissive.

“Why don’t you think you do?”

“I got angry, Sir. She wanted you.”

“But I only want you.” I hope she always reacts like that when she sees a woman is interested in me. “I think fifteen lashes is enough for yelling and speaking so harshly. So many dirty words you used and that pretty mouth is meant for so much more.” I straddle her chest and place my cock against her lips. “Like sucking my cock.”

She goes to wrap her lips around the head, but I pull away and tug on the clamps, stretching those gorgeous nipples. “I didn’t say you could suck me. I said that’s what that mouth is for. There’s a difference, Good Girl.”

“Mmm, yes, Sir,” she moans.

“I want you to count.” I flip the riding crop in my hand and use the correct side. There’s a small black flap in a shape of a triangle, and I brush it down her chest. I catch the metal chain with the body of the crop and pull.

She shouts again, squeezing her eyes shut as her nipples undergo the sweetest kind of torture. Next, I slip the crop down her stomach, and her stomach trembles as she breathes. Her ribs show with every inhalation and the lower I get, the more unstable she becomes.

“I’m going to spank you right—” I slap the riding crop onto her clit, and she pulls violently on the restraints until the slim muscle in her arm shows, “—Here.”

“One.”

“Oh, no. That was just an example. What’s your color?”

“Green! So green, Sir. All the shades of green.” She tosses her head back and forth and her thighs tense as she tries to instinctively press them together.

“Good girl. Remember, fifteen. And red is the safe word. If you say stop, I won’t,” I warn her.

“Yes, Sir.” Her eyes are hooded, and there is that familiar glossed-over expression she has.

I rub the tip of the crop over her sweet center, getting the leather wet with her honey. The leather is shining as if it’s just been polished, but I don’t pull away yet. I continue the slow drag, circling the crop around her, through her folds, against her center, before sliding up again.

She’s a quivering, whining mess at this point and nothing has ever sounded sexier to me.

I bring the crop up and let it fly, letting the quick snap bite against her clit.

“One!” she shouts.

I squeeze the base of my cock to stop my orgasm. I spank her again, the loud crack echoes in the room.

“Two!”

I watch her pussy begin to drip, her icing begging for me to lap it up with my tongue, but I want to see just how wet I can make her.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

I spank her back to back.

“Five!” she croaks as a tear leaks out of her eyes.

Her clit is swollen, red, and outraged at the treatment she’s receiving, but I bet she’s thrilled at the same time.

Crack.

Her pussy becomes wetter.

Crack.

“Seven. Stop, oh, god, stop,” she pleads, shaking her head. “More, harder. Please, Sir.” Such a contradiction.

Crack.

Her inner thighs are slick from her need.

The next six slaps are harder than the last, and I barely hear her count. I’m so focused. She has tears brimming down her face, her lips are swollen, and her eyes are red from sobbing. The muscles in her thighs are quaking, and I know she won’t be able to take much more.

“Come.” I release the final blow to her clit and tug the clamps off her nipples at the same time.

“Fifteen,” she screams in ecstasy as a powerful orgasm swamps her. The sheets become ruined from the amount of come and her back is bent and tears are still streaming down her face as the waves consume her.

I bend down and take her swollen red nipples into my mouth, soothing them with my spit, but it only causes another orgasm to overtake her.

While she’s bound, I settle between her legs and slam into her in one hard thrust. “You’re so wet, Good Girl. Is this all for me?” I grip the iron rods in my hands and use them to grind myself against her as hard as I can.

My eyes roll to the back of my head with how hot, wet, and tight she feels. She's fighting the cuffs, trying to meet my every stroke with her hips, and the sounds leaving her are borderline questionable if anyone hears them.

But I swear, they are sounds of a woman lost in pleasure.

The bed slams against the wall, and drops of sweat fall from the ends of my hair onto her chest.

“You like that, wife? You like me using you like this? All bound with nowhere to go?”

“Yes, Sir! Yes! I’m so close.”

“Not until I say,” I make sure to tell her while silently cursing when my own orgasm tingles my sack.

I bend down and lick the tears off her face, then shove my tongue into her mouth, kissing her without any coordination. Teeth clink, tongues tie, and mouths slip against one another. Her cries are my fuel every time I flex my hips, trying to bury myself as far inside her as I can.

“Now, Good Girl. Now!”

We shout our orgasms in unison, falling apart as the most intense emotions grip us and take us under. Her muscles flex around me, massaging me, bringing me into her womb.

I’m wrung fucking dry.

I reach up and unbind her wrists, then stretch my arm down to unsnap the ankle restraints. Her arms tremble when she brings them around my neck. I perch myself up to get a better look at her and grin when I see how far gone she is.

“I love you.”

Her eyes finally move, still dazed and blitzed. “I love you,” she slurs and yawns.

“No time for sleep. It’s time to soak in a nice bath for your muscles.”

She shakes her head but doesn’t even realize I’m picking her up and carrying her to the bathroom for pampering.

“Can we order tacos?” she sleepily asks, blinking up at me with vulnerable brown eyes.

“Whatever you want, Good Girl. You deserve anything you want.” I turn on the water and grab some oil I see in crystal containers and pour them in. Smells like lavender.

If this is the rest of my life, I can’t wait to live it.

In the back of my mind, I know this quick getaway was just that—temporary. The real world awaits us when the sun rises.

Anyone who dares try to take her from me is a dead man.

But I have a feeling someone is going to try.