Bedroom. Now.

He growls in my ear, "Bedroom. Now," and I shudder with delight. It's eleven o'clock at night, and I thought he'd gone to bed an hour ago, but apparently not.

He's got me by the arm, pulling me up off the couch as my smutty romance novel slides to the floor. It doesn't matter. My body lights up, responding to the way he drags me down the hallway, pausing just before the bedroom door to push me against the wall with his tall, muscular frame and capture my mouth with his. I feel a hand slide to the back of my neck, and I let out a soft moan, knowing what's coming next. His hand tightens in my hair and jerks my head back as he licks a long line across my neck. Then his teeth scrape the soft skin of the underside of my jaw, and I'm a whimpering mess.

We rush to the bedroom, peeling off clothing as we go, shedding shirts and underwear like falling leaves. By the time I'm fully undressed, he's ready, standing behind me. His hands grab my shoulder and force me to bend over the bed, my face hitting the mattress. As he runs his large hands over my bare ass, I shift impatiently, longing to feel him inside me. He likes to prolong it, though. Asshole.

A sharp slap of his hand against my ass forces a guttural cry from my throat. God, I love when he's rough with me. I try to turn my head to the side so I can breathe, but he's got my hair in his other hand, pulling my head back. It hurts, but I moan anyway as my back arches against the unnatural position. He smacks me again, this time on the outside of my upper thigh, and I wonder if he's leaving red handprints again. I hope he is.

"Please," I beg, feeling his bruising fingertips roam over my backside. I wiggle my hips, trying to encourage his fingers to move lower, to dip between my legs. He stills me with another hard smack on my ass, and I obey the unspoken order to stop moving, my neck burning from being held in such a way.

My hair is freed suddenly, and I drop my head back down onto the bed, resisting the urge to rub my sore scalp. My hands are by my sides, anyway, and he wouldn't want me to move them. I know, because he grabs my wrists and pulls them behind me. Something rattles, and I recognize the sound of the cuffs. I grin as he slides first one, then the other, over my wrists and pulls them tight. My shoulders complain, but I ignore the pulling sensation, relaxing into the bound position.

"How wet are you?" he asks in that deep voice of his, and before I can answer, he's checking, kicking my legs apart and pressing a finger between my legs, rubbing in a way that makes me moan shamelessly. I feel the finger slip inside my warm pussy, and my own fingers clench uselessly behind my back, wishing to grab his whole hand and grind against it. I need him inside me. A low chuckle; he removes his finger, then reaches around to grab my hair again. He forces the finger inside my mouth, and I suck greedily on my own juices. "How does that taste, babygirl?"

I try to answer, but his hand against my mouth muffles my reply, and he only laughs again before removing his finger and letting go of my hair. I'm left breathless, my cheek falling against the mattress once again.

Silence behind me, and I wonder for a moment if he's left me to suffer, bound and soaking wet, desperate for him. Then a hard thud hits the lower part of my back, and the surprised cry that rips from my throat ends in a low groan. My hips twitch with the bruising pain, but it's a familiar one. It's his favorite leather flogger, and I swear I can feel all fifty falls sting my tender skin as he swings it again, striking the left cheek. I howl in pain and pleasure both, breathing hard as pain signals rush screaming through my body.

He hits me again, this time a hard, dull thump against my back, and I shudder, biting back the cry of pain. Another, then another, and he's found a rhythm, swinging in a figure-eight motion as the leather falls pound me in the same damn spot over and over until my skin is raw. I'm lost in a cacophony of sensations, twisting and flailing to get some relief from the relentless barrage of thuddy strikes. Just as I part my lips to beg him for respite, he lets up, dragging the ends of the falls down my back to brush against my ass.

"Do you want more?" he whispers, letting the leather strips dangle against the backs of my legs, teasing me. It's a game: a question with no correct answer, because no matter what I say, I know he will do exactly what he wants to do, nothing more or less. He rotates the flogger so the smooth glass handle rubs against my flesh, trailing up my sore back. "Or do you want this?"

I answer him by shifting my hips, spreading my legs a little further apart. Apparently this response is acceptable, because in the next moment, the flogger's handle is rammed deep inside me, buried to the hilt in my soaked pussy. My moans are barely human as he slides it back out, then slams it inside me once again. I can barely breathe as he works up a rhythm with the flogger handle, his other hand moving underneath me to pinch at my throbbing clit.

Oh, fuck.

A thousand fireworks explode in my vision as my muscles clench around the glass handle invading me. My bound hands claw at the air behind my back as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through my body, until I'm left panting and shivering on the bed.

He withdraws the flogger and his hand, and I feel empty. Then I feel the head of his cock press against my opening, and I arch my back again, shoving back to spear myself on his massive hard-on. He allows it, and I'm stuffed full, my legs shaking like jelly at the intrusion. His large, warm hands grip my hips on either side, fingertips digging into my flesh as he pulls himself out, then inserts himself once more, bottoming out inside me. Pain slices through my lower abdomen, but it's a good pain--the feeling of being fucked by such a big dick that I know I will barely be able to walk later tonight.

"That's a good girl," he pants as he pounds inside me over and over. I squeal with delight, kicking my legs off the floor. Each thrust sends a lightning bolt of pleasure through my body, sizzling at every nerve ending. I know he's enjoying it too, because of the way his fingers keep tightening on my hips, leaving marks that will last for days.

He ramps up the tempo, grabbing me by one shoulder to stab himself even deeper inside me, until I scream with the dizzying mix of gratification and soreness. Just when I think I can't take it anymore, he slides out, letting go of me, and I go limp on the bed, my legs dangling uselessly.

"Come here," he murmurs, and then I'm grabbed by the hair once again, being dragged backward off the bed. My knees hit the carpet roughly; his grip in my hair keeps me from falling over. In the next moment, he forces his cock into my mouth. I can taste myself on the velvety soft flesh, wet and warm and salty. He hits the back of my throat and I struggle to override my gag reflex. It doesn't work this time, and I convulse around his cock until he pulls me off him. "Careful," he says with a grin, and I stare up at him as he slowly slides himself back into my mouth. This time, I'm able to take it better, and I let my tongue flick between thrusts, running along the sensitive line at the base of his head each time it passes through my lips.

His groans are like heavenly music, making my body quiver each time he emits those glorious sounds. He tells me I feel so good, making me smile around his dick. I'm proud of the way I take him in deep, feeling him slide down the back of my throat. I breathe through my nose, concentrating on stifling the reflexes, and he responds by fucking my face even harder.

I know he's close. I can hear it in the pitch of his voice and feel it in each desperate jolt of his hips. "I'm going to cum, babygirl," he grunts, and then I feel him shuddering against me as he coats my throat with his warmth. His hands tighten in my hair, nearly pulling it out by the roots, but I only moan around his cock as it empties within me.

And then he's done. He slides out of my mouth and relaxes his hands in my hair, and I swallow, licking my lips so I don't spill even a single drop. His eyelids droop with heavy satisfaction as he bends down to look me in the eyes. "You're a very good girl," he whispers, kissing my forehead before reaching around to undo the cuffs. He lifts me effortlessly onto the bed, cradling me in his muscled arms as he tucks a sweaty lock of hair behind my ear. I'm cradled against his chest as he rocks me, whispering how beautiful I am.

"It's time for bed," he says finally. He lays me down gently, propping my head on the pillow, and tucks the covers in around me. I smile sleepily as he gives my swollen lips a light kiss. Then he crawls to his side of the bed and shuts off the lamp with a contented sigh.

"Goodnight, babygirl."