Black Light: Rushed
Excerpt By Jennifer Bene
Available at: Amazon (and on Kindle Unlimited!)
The next stroke of the belt was brutal. A bright flash of pain exploded across her backside just before fire followed in its tracks, and with the damn hook keeping her in place she couldn’t do anything to ease it.
Worse, every unconscious shift of her body moved the rope buried between her thighs, dragging the knot back and forth over her clit, which had somehow changed from being something to avoid into something she sought. Grinding against it, edging herself.
It was torture. The best kind of torture.
Every bit of it, and she knew Landon had been right that she wanted the pain more than the pleasure. Vanilla sex bored her, and she so rarely came that it wasn’t even worth the time — or the risk of showing up on some internet site from a hidden camera.
“I thought you’d like having an audience considering your choice of career,” Landon said, pulling her out of her inner spiral of confusing arousal.
“This is real,” she mumbled, quickly adding a slightly louder, “Sir.”
“And being in front of cameras for your show isn’t real?” He reappeared in front of her and she felt another thump of need from her clit. It should be illegal to be as attractive as he was. It made it too hard to think, and her inner thoughts kept making it past her lips before she could stop them.
“Yeah, I mean…” Sighing, McKenna lifted as high on her toes as she could to try and roll her shoulders, but she couldn’t do much more than shrug them to ease the growing ache. “It’s just different.”
“Keep talking.” It was a command, there was no doubt about that. Hell, he could probably make a request for a cup of sugar sound like an order with that low, gruff voice. But how the hell could she explain it?
“I’m not me on set,” she started, trying to find a way to describe how she felt in front of the cameras, but Landon tore her focus away when he brought the Hitachi back to her clit. The sudden surge of vibrating pressure against the knot was almost too much to bear, but she craved it just as much.
“Talk, McKenna, or I take it away and add another stripe to your sweet ass.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“It’s different!”
“You said that already,” he replied with a chuckle, and then he complicated the entire situation further by wrapping one ridiculously strong arm around her waist again to hold her still, all so he could press the magic wand in harder. “Try something else, because I really want to watch you ride this a little longer.”
“It’s— I— I’m not McKenna in front of the cameras. I’m just… fuck… I’m whoever the character is! I’m not me. It doesn’t matter who’s watching, or what’s happening, b-because it’s not me.” She was babbling, so close to coming that her entire body felt like it was buzzing in time with the fucking Hitachi, but she couldn’t think straight surrounded in his cologne with the heat of his skin pressed against hers. “I’m just Macy, or Sarah, or— oh my Goddd, please, sir!”
“You look so hot right now, McKenna. Are you going to come for me? In front of all these people?” he was using her words against her, but somehow coming from him, in that low, rumbling voice, it only pushed her closer. “Tell me something else.”
“L-like what?” she asked, biting down on the whine in her chest as she rode the vibrating knot, striving for release.
“Hmm…” He moved closer, leaning his forehead against her hair, and she was damn sure that was his cock pressing against her hip through his pants. “Do you like it soft and sweet, or rough and hard when you get fucked?”
It was the visual of Landon on top of her, pinning her down, claiming her body and soul that pushed her over the edge. Everything went tight and she arched against the ropes woven around her body, not even caring that it dragged more of the damp, scratchy rope over her clit because that just added to the sudden rush of sensation. Burning bliss and stinging ecstasy surged up her spine and exploded, flooding her mind with raw pleasure and drowning out everything but the heat of his skin against hers for one brilliant moment.
When she managed to gasp in air again, she knew she’d shouted something, but she had no idea what it was. Landon was keeping her upright, and she felt the buzz of the Hitachi somewhere near her hip where he was holding on tight.
Someone nearby whistled, and her eyes popped open, but all she could see was Landon. He was in front of her, all that hot skin pressed against hers, the rope the only barrier… but it didn’t feel like one. It was the rope he’d chosen to put on her, and it felt like another connection, something symbolic.
“I want you to do that again for me,” he purred, the words rumbling in his chest, and it was definitely like the purr of some big, dangerous cat. Hell, she could feel the vibration because they were pressed so tight together. A wicked smile slid over his lips and he added, “As soon as you can stand up again, anyway.”
“Okay,” she whispered, because it was about all she could make cover the distance between her mind and her tongue.
“I think I know the answer to my question, McKenna, but I want to hear you say it.” He leaned his forehead against hers, shielding them with his mane of hair once more.
“Say what?”
“Soft and sweet, or rough and hard?” he whispered.
Swallowing, she felt the blush burning in her cheeks, but for some reason she felt like she could say it to him while the rest of the club couldn’t hear. It still took her a second to build up the courage to softly say, “Rough.”
“And hard?” he continued with a grin.
“Yes, sir.”
“Fuck… your voice does something to me, McKenna. Can you stand up yet?” Landon leaned back a bit, but his arm stayed firmly around her waist as he slowly let her weight settle back on her feet.
“I’m okay.” Her knees definitely felt shaky, but she could stand. She tried to meet his intense gaze again, but he was staring at her lips. Is he finally going to kiss me? She wanted it. Hell, she didn’t think she’d ever wanted a man to kiss her as much as she craved it in that moment, but she was still too scattered to take action.
“Next question,” he said, and the spell was broken. The moment gone.
Cursing herself for not going for it when she had the chance, she tried to hide her disappointment as he moved to her side again. It didn’t last long though, because a second later he pressed the Hitachi to the inside of her thigh, inching it slowly higher.
“When you get fucked hard, do you like to get held down so you can look the person taking you in the eye?” he asked, voice low and rumbling. The magic wand brushed the knot over her clit lightly, but it was more than enough to have her panting as he leaned closer. “Or do you like to get bent over and fucked roughly from behind so they can spank your sweet ass?”
“I…” have no idea. She felt lost between the two fantasies, imagining him on top of her, pinning her to the floor, out in the wild somewhere, or having his fist in her hair as he bent her over something and slammed deep. How the fuck was she supposed to choose?
“Last chance to answer me, McKenna, before I blister your fucking ass for making me wait to see you come again,” he growled, and she moaned under her breath at the promise of pain on top of everything else. He pressed the wand against her harder, rolling the head in a sinful circle, and even if she had an answer there was no way she could have said it before he growled in her ear. “Fucking hell, girl… I’m gonna make this hurt.”
“No, wait! Sirrr,” she whined, pleading, but he let go of her waist and pulled the Hitachi away as her brain managed to function enough for her to shout, “Both! I want both!”
“Too late. You were a bad girl, and bad girls get their ass lit up no matter how much I like their delayed answers.” Landon caught her chin, shutting her mouth just before she was going to argue. “If it’s too much, you shout ‘yellow,’ got me?”
“Yes, sir.” The words were barely audible, but it was because she couldn’t decide if she was more anxious about the coming pain… or excited for it. Closing her eyes, she clenched her fists on the other side of the rope and focused on the fantasies he’d painted for her. All that power, all that strength, and he was going to use it to fuck her rough and hard, in whatever position he decided, before the end of the night.
She’d handle whatever he wanted to dish out as long as that reward was waiting on the other side of it.
“Count them out for me, McKenna,” he commanded, and then the crack of the leather preceded a blistering streak of pain across her ass. For a second all she could do was bite down on the whimper until he shouted, “Count!”
“One!” she cried out, and the next landed right after, before the heat had even begun to spread out. Tears pricked at her eyes as she forced out, “Two!”
The next lash was vibrant agony, making her knees weak for a moment as she clenched her teeth against the urge to beg him to stop. Instead, she felt a rush of pride when she finally took a shaky breath and shouted, “Three, sir!”
“Look how obedient you’re being now, unfortunately it’s too little, too late. See… bad girls always get punished with me, McKenna. Especially when all I want to do is make them come and they decide to disobey me.”
His words summoned a wave of guilt, and she couldn’t remember the last time a ‘punishment’ had actually felt like a punishment. When the belt crashed into her again, it hurt — it hurt so fucking much — but she craved it too.
The raw absolution of it.
“Four, sir!” she shouted, sniffling back the tears because she didn’t want him to notice, but the pause between four and the next was so long that she brushed her cheeks off on her arms and tried to look back at him. “Sir?”
“You want more?” he asked, and her heart wouldn’t stop pounding. It was beating at the inside of her ribs like it was pleading with her to say no… or yes… or maybe? Fuck, she couldn’t tell what she wanted, all she knew was that the pain was blurring into something otherworldly.
Fuzzy and hot, and it made her feel light. “McKenna!”
“I want what you want, sir,” she answered, and he grabbed a fistful of her hair, craning her neck back until she could only see him and her bound arms and the ceiling.
“What if I want to belt your ass another ten times?” he growled, low and serious.
“I’ll take it.” The words were barely a whisper, but what was more shocking was that she actually meant it.
“Twenty?” he asked, and when she didn’t say anything, he added, “Thirty?”
“I haven’t said ‘yellow’ yet, have I, sir?” It was a gamble, and when he slowly tightened his fist in her hair, she worried it was a mistake, but then she heard the low groan as he ran his teeth over his bottom lip.
“Fuck, McKenna… I want to hear you scream for me. No holding back, got it?”
Worse, every unconscious shift of her body moved the rope buried between her thighs, dragging the knot back and forth over her clit, which had somehow changed from being something to avoid into something she sought. Grinding against it, edging herself.
It was torture. The best kind of torture.
Every bit of it, and she knew Landon had been right that she wanted the pain more than the pleasure. Vanilla sex bored her, and she so rarely came that it wasn’t even worth the time — or the risk of showing up on some internet site from a hidden camera.
“I thought you’d like having an audience considering your choice of career,” Landon said, pulling her out of her inner spiral of confusing arousal.
“This is real,” she mumbled, quickly adding a slightly louder, “Sir.”
“And being in front of cameras for your show isn’t real?” He reappeared in front of her and she felt another thump of need from her clit. It should be illegal to be as attractive as he was. It made it too hard to think, and her inner thoughts kept making it past her lips before she could stop them.
“Yeah, I mean…” Sighing, McKenna lifted as high on her toes as she could to try and roll her shoulders, but she couldn’t do much more than shrug them to ease the growing ache. “It’s just different.”
“Keep talking.” It was a command, there was no doubt about that. Hell, he could probably make a request for a cup of sugar sound like an order with that low, gruff voice. But how the hell could she explain it?
“I’m not me on set,” she started, trying to find a way to describe how she felt in front of the cameras, but Landon tore her focus away when he brought the Hitachi back to her clit. The sudden surge of vibrating pressure against the knot was almost too much to bear, but she craved it just as much.
“Talk, McKenna, or I take it away and add another stripe to your sweet ass.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“It’s different!”
“You said that already,” he replied with a chuckle, and then he complicated the entire situation further by wrapping one ridiculously strong arm around her waist again to hold her still, all so he could press the magic wand in harder. “Try something else, because I really want to watch you ride this a little longer.”
“It’s— I— I’m not McKenna in front of the cameras. I’m just… fuck… I’m whoever the character is! I’m not me. It doesn’t matter who’s watching, or what’s happening, b-because it’s not me.” She was babbling, so close to coming that her entire body felt like it was buzzing in time with the fucking Hitachi, but she couldn’t think straight surrounded in his cologne with the heat of his skin pressed against hers. “I’m just Macy, or Sarah, or— oh my Goddd, please, sir!”
“You look so hot right now, McKenna. Are you going to come for me? In front of all these people?” he was using her words against her, but somehow coming from him, in that low, rumbling voice, it only pushed her closer. “Tell me something else.”
“L-like what?” she asked, biting down on the whine in her chest as she rode the vibrating knot, striving for release.
“Hmm…” He moved closer, leaning his forehead against her hair, and she was damn sure that was his cock pressing against her hip through his pants. “Do you like it soft and sweet, or rough and hard when you get fucked?”
It was the visual of Landon on top of her, pinning her down, claiming her body and soul that pushed her over the edge. Everything went tight and she arched against the ropes woven around her body, not even caring that it dragged more of the damp, scratchy rope over her clit because that just added to the sudden rush of sensation. Burning bliss and stinging ecstasy surged up her spine and exploded, flooding her mind with raw pleasure and drowning out everything but the heat of his skin against hers for one brilliant moment.
When she managed to gasp in air again, she knew she’d shouted something, but she had no idea what it was. Landon was keeping her upright, and she felt the buzz of the Hitachi somewhere near her hip where he was holding on tight.
Someone nearby whistled, and her eyes popped open, but all she could see was Landon. He was in front of her, all that hot skin pressed against hers, the rope the only barrier… but it didn’t feel like one. It was the rope he’d chosen to put on her, and it felt like another connection, something symbolic.
“I want you to do that again for me,” he purred, the words rumbling in his chest, and it was definitely like the purr of some big, dangerous cat. Hell, she could feel the vibration because they were pressed so tight together. A wicked smile slid over his lips and he added, “As soon as you can stand up again, anyway.”
“Okay,” she whispered, because it was about all she could make cover the distance between her mind and her tongue.
“I think I know the answer to my question, McKenna, but I want to hear you say it.” He leaned his forehead against hers, shielding them with his mane of hair once more.
“Say what?”
“Soft and sweet, or rough and hard?” he whispered.
Swallowing, she felt the blush burning in her cheeks, but for some reason she felt like she could say it to him while the rest of the club couldn’t hear. It still took her a second to build up the courage to softly say, “Rough.”
“And hard?” he continued with a grin.
“Yes, sir.”
“Fuck… your voice does something to me, McKenna. Can you stand up yet?” Landon leaned back a bit, but his arm stayed firmly around her waist as he slowly let her weight settle back on her feet.
“I’m okay.” Her knees definitely felt shaky, but she could stand. She tried to meet his intense gaze again, but he was staring at her lips. Is he finally going to kiss me? She wanted it. Hell, she didn’t think she’d ever wanted a man to kiss her as much as she craved it in that moment, but she was still too scattered to take action.
“Next question,” he said, and the spell was broken. The moment gone.
Cursing herself for not going for it when she had the chance, she tried to hide her disappointment as he moved to her side again. It didn’t last long though, because a second later he pressed the Hitachi to the inside of her thigh, inching it slowly higher.
“When you get fucked hard, do you like to get held down so you can look the person taking you in the eye?” he asked, voice low and rumbling. The magic wand brushed the knot over her clit lightly, but it was more than enough to have her panting as he leaned closer. “Or do you like to get bent over and fucked roughly from behind so they can spank your sweet ass?”
“I…” have no idea. She felt lost between the two fantasies, imagining him on top of her, pinning her to the floor, out in the wild somewhere, or having his fist in her hair as he bent her over something and slammed deep. How the fuck was she supposed to choose?
“Last chance to answer me, McKenna, before I blister your fucking ass for making me wait to see you come again,” he growled, and she moaned under her breath at the promise of pain on top of everything else. He pressed the wand against her harder, rolling the head in a sinful circle, and even if she had an answer there was no way she could have said it before he growled in her ear. “Fucking hell, girl… I’m gonna make this hurt.”
“No, wait! Sirrr,” she whined, pleading, but he let go of her waist and pulled the Hitachi away as her brain managed to function enough for her to shout, “Both! I want both!”
“Too late. You were a bad girl, and bad girls get their ass lit up no matter how much I like their delayed answers.” Landon caught her chin, shutting her mouth just before she was going to argue. “If it’s too much, you shout ‘yellow,’ got me?”
“Yes, sir.” The words were barely audible, but it was because she couldn’t decide if she was more anxious about the coming pain… or excited for it. Closing her eyes, she clenched her fists on the other side of the rope and focused on the fantasies he’d painted for her. All that power, all that strength, and he was going to use it to fuck her rough and hard, in whatever position he decided, before the end of the night.
She’d handle whatever he wanted to dish out as long as that reward was waiting on the other side of it.
“Count them out for me, McKenna,” he commanded, and then the crack of the leather preceded a blistering streak of pain across her ass. For a second all she could do was bite down on the whimper until he shouted, “Count!”
“One!” she cried out, and the next landed right after, before the heat had even begun to spread out. Tears pricked at her eyes as she forced out, “Two!”
The next lash was vibrant agony, making her knees weak for a moment as she clenched her teeth against the urge to beg him to stop. Instead, she felt a rush of pride when she finally took a shaky breath and shouted, “Three, sir!”
“Look how obedient you’re being now, unfortunately it’s too little, too late. See… bad girls always get punished with me, McKenna. Especially when all I want to do is make them come and they decide to disobey me.”
His words summoned a wave of guilt, and she couldn’t remember the last time a ‘punishment’ had actually felt like a punishment. When the belt crashed into her again, it hurt — it hurt so fucking much — but she craved it too.
The raw absolution of it.
“Four, sir!” she shouted, sniffling back the tears because she didn’t want him to notice, but the pause between four and the next was so long that she brushed her cheeks off on her arms and tried to look back at him. “Sir?”
“You want more?” he asked, and her heart wouldn’t stop pounding. It was beating at the inside of her ribs like it was pleading with her to say no… or yes… or maybe? Fuck, she couldn’t tell what she wanted, all she knew was that the pain was blurring into something otherworldly.
Fuzzy and hot, and it made her feel light. “McKenna!”
“I want what you want, sir,” she answered, and he grabbed a fistful of her hair, craning her neck back until she could only see him and her bound arms and the ceiling.
“What if I want to belt your ass another ten times?” he growled, low and serious.
“I’ll take it.” The words were barely a whisper, but what was more shocking was that she actually meant it.
“Twenty?” he asked, and when she didn’t say anything, he added, “Thirty?”
“I haven’t said ‘yellow’ yet, have I, sir?” It was a gamble, and when he slowly tightened his fist in her hair, she worried it was a mistake, but then she heard the low groan as he ran his teeth over his bottom lip.
“Fuck, McKenna… I want to hear you scream for me. No holding back, got it?”