Page 25 of Savoring Sienna
His hand created a maddening rhythm, alternating stinging slaps with featherlight touches until she writhed in desperation. When his fingers brushed over her labia, she was already slick with need.
“Getting wet for me already?” He delivered three rapid strikes. Her painful wheeze soothed the Dominant in him. “Tell me what you need.”
“More…” She pressed back against his hand.
“More spanking?”SLAP“Or more of this?” His fingers circled her clit briefly before withdrawing.
He chuckled at her frustrated groan. “Both! Please…”
“Since you asked so nicely.” He peppered her reddened flesh with sharp strikes, each one followed by teasing caresses that inched closer to where she was already weeping for his possession.
When he landed two precise slaps directly over her pussy, she bucked against him with a desperate shriek. “Master Crone… oh, shit!” The cry ended in a squeak as he landed two more on her already stinging flesh.
“Ready for more than a spanking, little one?”
“God, yes!” She writhed across his lap. “Please, Master Crone. Hurry!”
His cock strained against his zipper at her urgency, demanding relief of its own. “Your wish is my command, kitten.”
He lifted her off his lap, turning her to face him. Her eyes glimmered with desire, and her cheeks matched the pink glow of her freshly spanked flesh.
“Strip for me.” His voice roughened as he settled back. “Slowly.”
With notably trembling fingers, she tugged on the hem of her blouse. He caught the flicker of fear in her eyes, and noticing the slight hesitation, a flash memory reminded him that she had more than the scar on her arm. His voice softened.
“Look at me, Sienna.” He waited until she met his gaze. “Nothing you show me will change what I want from or feel for you.”
She drew a shaky breath and with one motion whipped the blouse over her head. The white lace bra followed almost immediately, as if she wanted it done before her courage failed her. His breath caught in his throat. Brutal scars marred her full breasts, but his blood ran cold at the hook-shaped mark carved into her stomach that told a story of deliberate cruelty. His own scars had taught him the difference between accident and intent. Hers told a gruesome tale of calculated malice.
Rage burned through his veins, but decades of control kept it from his expression. His hands shook with the urge to hunt down whoever had hurt her this way. He wanted to protect her from the ghosts haunting her.
Forcing his breathing to stay steady, he drew her between his legs. “Beautiful.” His fingers traced the raised edge of the hook, pouring tenderness into his touch. “Every mark, every curve…” His lips followed the path of his fingers, worshipping rather than avoiding the evidence of her past. “As part of you… perfection.”
A sob caught in her throat as his mouth moved higher, lavishing attention on her scarred breasts. His hands spanned her waist, steadying her when her knees threatened to buckle.He tasted salt on her cheeks from tears she probably hadn’t realized had fallen.
“Still want me to fuck you into kingdom come?” His teeth grazed her nipple, determined to replace pain with pleasure and darkness with light. “Because I need to warn you, the way you look at me now, I’m not going to be gentle. I am going to devour you.”
“Yes,” she panted. “God, yes.”
In one fluid motion, he rose and swept her into his arms. Her startled yelp melted into a sigh as she curled against his chest. The trust in that simple gesture squeezed his heart.
“Hold tight.” He carried her down the hallway, pausing only to nuzzle the sensitive spot behind her ear. Her resulting shiver prodded him to walk faster.
“You’re overdressed,” she murmured and tugged at his shirt.
“Patience, kitten.” But his body betrayed his own urgency as he shouldered open his bedroom door. The California king dominated the space, and the thick white duvet was an inviting cloud waiting to cushion their passionate ride.
The moment the door clicked shut behind them, he set her on her feet only to press her against the wall and crash his mouth into hers with a hunger that bordered on violence. She tasted like sin and surrender—sweet wine and the salt of her skin. Her gasp vibrated against his lips as his hands roamed over her.
He didn’t just touch her. Helearnedher as his fingers traced the dips and swells of her body, memorizing every shiver and hitch of her breath. He cupped her breasts roughly, circling her nipples with his thumbs until they pebbled beneath his touch. Then—fuck—he pinched. Hard.
“Ahh!” The husky sound stirred his swelling cock.
“Hmm, such sweet surrender,” he murmured as he soothed the sting with his tongue, laving the tight buds before drawing one deep into his mouth and sucked. He did as he hadpromised… he devoured with his teeth grazing, and his lips sealing around her nipples with enough pressure to make her whimper. When he bit down—just shy of pain—she jerked, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
“Master Crone… please?—”
“Patience, kitten,” he growled against her skin. He switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment—pinch, suck, bite—until she was trembling and her thighs were slick with need. Only then did he drop to his knees, sliding his hands down to grip her hips with his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass.
