Deadline by Stephanie Ahn

Author:Stephanie Ahn [Ahn, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Supernatural Romance, series
Publisher: Kindle Direct Publishing
Published: 2018-05-14T23:00:00+00:00

***

I dangle from the ceiling by my wrists at the center of the room, completely naked but for my boxers. Each wrist is cuffed and chained to the ends of a metal rod that Laylah is drawing up to the ceiling via pulley. I’m standing on the balls of my feet, not quite tiptoeing, but still struggling to find purchase on the floor. Gravity stretches out my thin frame. I’m certain that if Laylah were to leave me like this without laying a single hand on my body, I’d be sore all over in twenty minutes.

Heavy heels clop clop on the floor as Laylah approaches from behind. She flips my ponytail over my shoulder, and the briefest touch of latex against my bare skin makes me shiver. She notices instantly, chuckling as she toys with the little hairs at the nape of my neck.

“When was the last time you did this?” she says.

“It’s… been a while,” I admit. “I might take some time to warm up.”

“Well, lucky for you. I happen to have a good—“ she checks a clock somewhere nearby, “—hour and a half to kill before my next appointment.”

I hear the slap of soft leather strips against rubber gloves; it’s like an auditory aphrodisiac. My entire body stands to attention, skin thrumming in anticipation.

“Safeword?” she asks.

“Butterfly.”

She hums. “Interesting choice.”

And then she waits. The sound of my own breathing grows loud in my ears. I’m on the verge of an inhale when she hits me.

I rock forward purely out of surprise, sucking in a small breath. The noise is bigger than the impact, but I definitely feel it—loose impact, a momentary nip from the sharper tips of the flogger’s tails, then the slide of soft, heavy leather strips down my back. Like teeth, then a full-lipped kiss. She hits me again, a little harder. Then again. And again. The layered stinging melts across my skin, warming it, making it more sensitive and responsive.

As the strikes get harder I hear my voice starting to escape with each breath. Her pace is slowing but she’s putting her wrist into every lash, forcing the skin-deep pain to take root in deeper muscle. I resist the urge to tense the muscles in my back, instead wrapping my hands loosely around the chains at my wrists and dropping my head, feet flexing. The space between each hit is an exercise in anticipation. I count my breaths to match.

Back to the quicker, more lenient strikes. One, two, three, four lashes, alternating diagonal strikes creating an ‘X’ on my back—and then a hard, punishing THWAP!

The chains jingle as I straighten up in surprise, a little “Mmm,” coming from between my closed lips. Oh, I get it, new pattern. The four softer, regular strikes wind me up, preparing me—then the fifth I feel like a lightning bolt through my entire body. I squirm when it hits, thighs tightening, whining under my breath. I sink into the rhythm, all thoughts in my mind trickling out like hourglass sand,

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