They stayed away from each other for two days, their discomfort was mutual. She broke down some of his walls, so he erected new ones that were twice as high and three times
as thick. He didn't like talking about his feelings. He didn't like discussing shit that could not be changed. He did not like wasting time on things that no longer mattered. But he was determined to break her spell, to bring her back to reality. He let her guard down to expose himself, to show her that some scars never heal. You just have to live with them. But he made himself too vulnerable in the process.
He needed to re-establish their relationship. He was the master, and she was his slave. That was it and nothing more.
On the third day, he visited her room and found her reading by
the fire. She wore a white dress that exposed her petite shoulders. The light color looked perfect against her slightly olive skin. Living at his estate had exposed her to more sunlight than she was used to. Because of that, she was looking beautiful and glowing skin. He wanted to fuck her all over again.
His sex drive had returned in full force. He wanted her badly. He wanted to fuck all of his depression away. He wanted to get lost in the moment with her. When she and he were together, he didn't think about anything else but lick her pussy, the O she would make with her mouth when she would come, and say his name as she screamed.
When she looked up at him, she knew exactly why he was
there. She shut the book and met her gaze, looking just as fierce as she used to. Perhaps their last conversation had hardened her spine and made her realize she didn't have it so bad not as bad as he did.
He kneeled in front of her and grabbed her by the hips, dragging her forward until her chest was pressed to mine. He wanted to take her rough and hard. He wanted to make her scream from both the pain and the pleasure. He wanted to fuck that tight little asshole and make her scream again.
"You'll do whatever I'll tell you." He yanked the front of her dress down, revealing her curvy tits. He immediately pressed her face into the valley and licked the skin.
She grabbed his shoulder and pushed him off. "No. I want something in return."
It took a moment for him to understand what she wanted. His mind was focused on one thing and it was between her legs. "Like what?"
"Something expensive." Her desire for freedom had returned, and that turned him more fuck on. Her fire was back, raging with flames so hot they were blue. She was combative and hostile, her strength matching his. "I have something in mind. But I'm not sure you can handle it."
"I can." Her eyes did not hesitate. She kept her resolve, never caving into the fear. She was determined to do it. She was determined to get out of there as quickly as possible.
"Then let me show you."
They entered the playroom on the top floor. It was in the right-hand corner of the mansion without a bedroom underneath. The soundproof walls in that room were perfect, they kept all the screams inside. Sam already knew he had strange fetishes, but he didn't know the extent of his dark obsession.
He pulled the leather straps from the ceiling and turned to her. He watched her expression, needing to know her reaction.
She stared at the apparatus blankly.
"I'm going to hang you from the ceiling. Then I'm going to fuck you." His cock hardened just at the thought. He wanted to hear her scream. He wanted to see her skin redden and welt. Then he wanted to fuck her.
She walked closer to the leather straps and stared at them.
"Okay." She lacked any fear whatsoever. Maybe she had done this before with Jason. Maybe she felt safe with him.
"You're sure?" He asked.
He was getting his way, and his cock thickened. He yanked her dress off and dropped it to the floor. She only wore panties underneath, so he removed those then kissed her skin everywhere. His mouth was desperate for her body. That clear skin was ready to get stroked very soon.
His lips slathered her shoulders with kisses then he kneeled in front of her, moving his mouth to the area between her legs. He cherished her body everywhere, kneeling at her feet.
She breathed hard when she felt his mouth against her entrance. She dug her nails into his shoulders as she quietly moaned, loving the feeling of his strong tongue against her sensitive nub.
He could not keep this up much longer. He wanted to hurt her so much. He wanted to push Regina to her limits. He wanted to apply the pressure without feeling the snap.
He positioned her arms above her head and locked her wrists within the leather. His chest was pressed to her back, and he loved the view. Her feet were still on the ground, and he stared at the curves of her body. She was blessed with a steep arch in her back, a delicious ass, and an hourglass waistline. Faint scars from her previous situation still marked her skin but he intended to cover them with his own.
He curved her face toward his and kissed her. It was an aggressive kiss, the kind that involved tongue and teeth. He smacked her ass before he walked away. His hands found the rope, and he pulled her a few inches off the ground, the perfect height to fuck her later.
He locked it in place then grabbed her flogger. He stared at her ass and felt his excitement grow.
"Ready?" He asked.
"Yes." She replied.
"Yes, what?" He pressed. She didn't answer.
"Yes, master."
He had never gotten her to say those words before.
He had never gotten her to admit she was mine. She had given him her body, but her mind would always belong to her. The fact that he couldn't break her made him want to do it even more.
"You'll never be my master." He whipped her hard across her back, spanning from her shoulder to the opposite hip.
She winced at the bite. Her body moved with the momentum,
swinging slightly.
"What did you say?" Tears weren't in her eyes, not yet. "You aren't my master."
He struck her again.
This time, she didn't wince. She didn't react in the slightest.
His respect for her grew. His obsession increased tenfold. No woman had ever been in this room and remained silent. No woman had ever been able to put up with this kind of pain so proudly. They all broke in just a single one. He struck her again. "You will submit to me."
Her only response was silence. He struck her three times in a row, hitting her across the ass and the backs of her legs. The skin reddened in response, becoming inflamed. He could not keep her excitement under control. He turned into a feral beast, carnal in nature and psychotic in desperation. His cock oozed with pre-cum and he wanted to be inside her. He did not even want to finish whipping her. All he wanted was her.
He threw the whip on the ground and tore off his sweatpants and boxers. If he did not get inside her that instant, he was going to explode. His dick was eager for her. If he had a voice, he would have screamed.
He turned her around to face him then wrapped her legs around his waist. When his fingers moved to her entrance, he found the moisture he had been expecting. Her pussy was wet for his, drenched.
She seemed to love receiving pain as much as he loved giving it. He positioned himself at her entrance with his face pressed to hers. Her arms were pulled over her head, and she was helpless to do anything but take him and take him hard.
He pressed a hard kiss on her lips before he entered her in a swift move. She moaned into his mouth when she felt him stretch her apart. His lips remained glued to hers, but he could not kiss her because she felt so good. He fell into her slickness, enjoying every thrust and every cry she gave him.
"Fuck, this pussy…" He was obsessed beyond understanding. He thrived in his playroom and gave in to the lustful obsession that plagued his body. He fucked her as hard as he could, losing all thought and reason.
"Paul…" His name escaped her lips like it usually did. She always said it with a sexy moan, full of ecstasy and unbridled passion.
"Twist my nipples." It was the first time she had given him a command.