Page 29 of Autumn Ritual

I gulped. A safe word! This night just kept getting better and better. “Ghost.”

“Good girl.”

The smile was quickly wiped off my face when the long length of the rope cracked across my ass. I stiffened as a cry cut from my lips.

“Hold the railing, angel.”

My fingers, still numb from too long hanging, fumbled against the chilled wood.

There wasn’t time to brace myself before the rope smacked my flesh. His palm was there a moment later, massaging the area.

“Are you alright?”

I loved that he was checking in with me, testing my comfort level. But it—it wasn’t that bad.

“I’m great,” I breathed.

The rope rained down on my right side. Left. Right again. Until my ass smarted with the sting. I leaned forward, an arch forming in my spine as pleasure shot through me. The muscle in my core clenched tightly.

“I don’t want you doing something so stupid again,” he growled. “What if I wasn’t coming?”

“I would have gotten down,” I explained, voice breathless. That was a better answer than telling him I would have waited all night for the monster in the dark.

The devil yanked my flannel pajama pants down my legs, and without warning, plunged two fingers into my core. The invasion made me gasp as pleasure shot through my veins. Behind me, the devil groaned. The sound was almost pained.

“You’re fucking drenched, angel.”

“Because I knew you were coming,” I gasped and clenched my muscles around his cold digits.

He began to fuck me with his fingers as the rope slid across the bare skin of my ass. First up the one slope, across the top, then down the other.

His hot breath fanned against my throat. “I think a bad girl like you needs to be fucked hard.”

A needy little whimper escaped me.

“I think you need to be taken.” He slammed his fingers deep, curling them in the most delicious torment. “Taken hard. Right here.”

I was conflicted. My heroine had protested, and I’d written my first dubious consent scene. I, on the other hand, would sign any document that gave this man permission to do whatever he wanted to me.

Before I could decide when this stopped being research and started being my own story, the decision was made for me. The devil looped the center of the rope over my head, placing the fraying strands against my mouth.

“Open.”

I obeyed.

“Bite down,” he growled.

It tasted like crap. Fibers shed on my tongue. I gagged, but he pulled the ends in his hand behind me. His fingers ripped from my pussy, distracting me at their loss. But my muffled protest was quickly cut off by the sound of his zipper.

“This wasn’t how I imagined tonight,” he confessed, spreading my ass and pushing me down, over the railing. “But it’s how we’re going to write it, isn’t it, angel?”

I nodded, saliva pooling against the rope.

I swallowed thickly.

With a sharp snap of his hips, the monster drove into me. The momentum made me rock forward. The railing scraped against my belly, catching the rolls of tummy.

But the feel of him inside me was so damn good!