Taming the Alter Ego by Shermaine Williams Read Free Book Online Page A

to consider the pink cushioning that would prevent welts in addition to his reply.“You’re scared of me?”
    Letting he head fall back, he rolled it from side to side as if trying to dislodge the words. “No, I’m scared of my feelings when I’m around you.”
    The honesty and familiarity of the response caught me off guard, silencing me for a briefly until I got back on course, resuming my position as Dom. “What would you have done if I hadn’t left you my generous gift?”
    His reply wasn’t forthcoming quick enough. Reaching between his legs, I clasped his balls to make him yell with pain and surprise. I wondered whether the vicious touch of my hand was a reprieve compared to the bite of the whip. A whimper carried on his heavy breaths as my fingers trailed along his shaft, stroking the straining flesh that I badly wanted inside me.
    “I would have said something.”
    Returning to the reddened skin of his bottom, I scraped my nails across the delicate patch, feeling the heat emanating from his skin as I relished the resulting jump.
    “Eventually,” I added.
    Sweat on the back of his neck glistened with his agreeing nod.
    “Good boy.”
    Twisting my wrist, I flicked the whip again to make it kiss his skin with a distinct crack, like wood popping in a fire. His body remained tense after his recoil, leading me to taunt him by smoothly stroking the leather fronds up the cleft of his cheeks.
    “You wouldn’t be able to resist.”
    Another nod.

    By shifting his feet, he made me wonder whether his arms were getting tired, not something I ever worried about before. In fact, a successful session was making a man collapse in a heap. Tom was different—it would be pointless to leave him incapacitated as I wanted more from him.
    Tormenting him further, I pumped him for information, asking all the questions that had formed in my mind since I first set eyes on him. Asserting my dominance with random strikes, I shielded how much I relished learning about him, adding color to the sketch already drawn.
    Increased knowledge only heightened my yearning, forcing me to resist the temptation of his body. The desire to press myself to his back was so visceral that I could feel the cool sensation of his sweat against my skin, running down my contours ahead of the firm pressure of his body.
    The further lashes from the whip were merely pretence, a prelude to what I really wanted to undertake. When the whip slipped from my fingers, I wasn’t sure whether it happened on purpose or by accident. Either way, I made no attempt to retrieve it. I saw myself removing his restraints, tearing at the rope with a desperation that made the nail of my forefinger bend backward.
    Offering no resistance, Tom was effortlessly steered into facing the chair. His body, no doubt, sapped of strength. The yellow hue from the streetlamps played on his skin, backlighting his profiled physique in a way that would make a photographer proud.
    Like a divining rod, his cock stood taut and straight as it strained for the precious resource it sought. Sliding my palm across his shoulder, I settled it in the centre of his back to push him forward, needing all my willpower to follow through with my intention. Smoothly gliding across his skin, warm and slick with perspiration, I forced him to hinge at the waist. “Put your hands on the chair.”
    His palms thudded against the leather cushion as he dropped against it, switching to grip the armrests before changing his mind again, returning his hands to the seat.
    My touch disturbed his scent. The musk of his body mingled with a faint trace of aftershave to drift to my nose like an airborne drug.
    Satisfaction came from constant physical contact. I swept my hand up his spine to push my fingers into his hair, levering his head backwards with a sharp tug before trailing back down to the cleft of his taut cheeks, like two firm balls of dough patted into shape by skilled hands.
    Laying my palm to his left cheek, I pushed