Resist (Songs of Submission #6) by CD Reiss Read Free Book Online Page B

skin of my shoulder. My pussy was ready for him. He put his head between my legs, kissing me from knee to the curve where thigh met pelvis.
    “Ah, yes,” I cried.
    He slapped inside my thigh, and the sting went right to my pussy. When he leaned in and bit where he’d slapped, gently, then harder, I uttered affirmations. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted to feel it. All of it. His tongue slid over my clit while he bent my legs to my chest, his teeth on my wet cleft. His fingers scratched my skin and landed in my hole, thrusting inside. It felt, raw, passionate, all-consuming.
    He sucked my clit, and the pain made bookends for the pleasure, heightening it. Reaching with his other hand, he put three fingers in my mouth, and I felt bound and helpless, like a hooked fish. The pain was my only companion as the flood of pleasure came. I screamed into his fingers, arching my back and ass off the mattress.
    He kept me immobile with his teeth, fingers, and tongue, licking and sucking until even the pleasure was pain, and tears streamed down my face. He picked up his face, kissing inside my thighs, my belly, licking the diamond navel ring that came to signify his ownership of me. I breathed heavily, eyes half-closed in post-orgasmic rapture.
    “I’m going to be sore all over tomorrow.”
    He kissed my cheek, pulling one knee back up to my chest, gently pushing my calf until it rested over his shoulder. “You have no idea how sore you’re going to be.”
    I was so wet from his mouth and my own arousal that he slid all the way into me in one stroke.
    “Do it.” I gasped. “Make me sore. Make it hurt again.”
    “I can make it hurt. You know your safe word?” He fucked me slowly, knees under him, my leg over his shoulder.
    “Small, orange fruit.” I felt another orgasm scratching and mewling at the door. It wanted in, but Jonathan had to turn the handle.
    “I need you to promise me something,” he said.
    “Anything.”
    “You’ll let me take care of my business.” He fucked me harder, leveraging himself by gripping my bicep.
    “Yes.”
    “You won’t interfere.” He went deep into a thudding pain inside.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Say it.”
    “Sir. I won’t interfere. Just do it. Please.” He slapped my breast, then grabbed it painfully before he slapped it again. “Yes!” I cried.
    He continued, hurting me just enough to heighten sensitivity, hitting me with exuberance as I cried yes, yes so he wouldn’t stop. He hit my breasts, my ass, my inner thighs without humiliation or punishment. Only joy. He did it because I liked it, and he liked it. Together, we were red-faced, near laughing, sometimes screaming, twisting, begging, fucking deep and hard, shamelessly gratifying each other’s most secret needs.
    And when the thunderclouds gathered, coalescing into a solid wall of sensation, blocking out the sun and sky, I had his name on my lips. Pain and pleasure became indistinguishable, and I shut down into a clenching ball of now . His face was close to mine. I was twisted in a knot from the pressure he put on my knees and elbows and exposed sensitivities. I caught the last of his orgasm as my sky cleared and I could see the firmament again. He dropped his head in the crook of my neck and bit. The pain brought me back to myself, like a wakeup call from a dead sleep.
    When his mouth slackened and his groans stopped, I said, “Ouch.”
    “Sorry.”
    I turned my head toward him and laughed at the absurdity of it. He caught on and laughed with me, holding my head close as we kissed, smiling. I untwisted myself and lay flat, joints and muscles loosened. I knew I’d suffer tomorrow from our fucking, as well as the promise I had no intention of keeping.

Chapter 14.
    JONATHAN
    I ordered breakfast from the diner around the corner, and when the delivery guy rang the doorbell, I was on the patio setting out plates. I heard the bathroom door shut. She was awake.
    What Monica didn’t know, and what helped me sleep, was that