Blaze, page 15
With a wiggle, I roll over to face him. “Can we go for a run?”
I’m not hopeful, but Ireland is so pretty. I want to explore, and I didn’t have a chance to before he got here.
Pushing my nose aside, Finn kisses me. “We can go for a run.”
I try to pull out of his arms, excited to go. My wolf rises, stretching out from the sleepy space inside, but Finn keeps me close to him.
“Oh, not so fast.” He smirks. “Breakfast and a reminder of your place are in order first.”
No. I hold that word in, but while I’m not outwardly prepared to fight him on it, I am not beneath Thalia’s usual trick with Cade. I open my mouth just a little and tilt my head down to look up at him with the saddest eyes I can make. Come on, puppy privilege.
Finn brings his hand to rest on my face, thumb brushing against my cheek.
“Oh, faolan.” He shakes his head. “You can choose. Run first and double punishment, or mind your place and I’ll go easy on your ass.”
Ugh. What’s the use of being cute if it doesn’t work? I try just a little bit harder, looking extremely disappointed and pouting just a bit. “Okay, but Irish breakfast is weird, and I don’t like it.”
That tips him in my favor. “You’re in no place to be negotiating. But I need to go to the hen house to get eggs, and since we’ll be outside anyway, I’ll let you stretch your wolf. Push your luck, and I will have no problem fulfilling that double punishment.”
I nod, biting my bottom lip, accepting what he’s saying. Thalia makes getting her way with puppy eyes look so much easier.
Running through the countryside here is so much different from back home. All the new smells to sniff and animals to track. My wolf struggles to stay on task. But following Finn, to his left behind his shoulder, we come to a clearing in the forest, and my wolf’s feet quit moving. There’s a castle. A castle. We’re standing on the lawn of a castle.
Whatever Finn decides to do about me pushing him this morning will be worth it. Without warning, my wolf plops our butt down in the wet grass, but it doesn’t matter. Vines grow up the sides, lacing around windows. There’s a round spire jutting up from the tower and battlements. It is so cool.
Finn comes to rest beside me and nuzzles me with his nose. I want to go closer, but who knows what sort of rules there are. Wolves are out in Ireland, but how and why?
The thought doesn’t matter. My wolf easily follows his lead, taking one last look behind us at the amazing building. I want to paint that later. I’ve never painted a castle before.
Chapter 23
Lena
Inside the guest cottage, Finn smiles at me. “You were quite well behaved.”
Biting my bottom lip, I think back to the castle in the morning light. It was worth it.
I nod. “I didn’t want to push my luck.”
Finn carries eggs from the coop into the house, and I’m salivating at the idea of breakfast.
The door to the bathroom clicks closed behind us. Finn seems to carefully choose his words. “I don’t think doubling your punishment is necessary.” He pauses before turning toward me. “I’ve never asked.” Finn’s eyes turn to the green of his wolf. “What are your soft limits? And what are your thoughts on them?”
My mouth goes dry. Can this man get any more perfect? “I need to better explore my soft limits before I can find out if they’re a hard limit or just a play type with limitations. Ultimately, I want someone” — I pause. I want you. I can’t seem to push those words out — “to know me so well my kinks and my limits are left unsaid. That there’s an understanding of where to push and when to stop.” After drawing a deep breath, I try to push the words out, and they come out at a whisper. “Just like you have.”
Finn grinds his jaw together. I can see the strain through his beard. “Oh, faolan, you’ll never regret this.”
Deep down, all the way down to my pussy, I know he’s right. “Soft limits: water sports with a hard limit at consumption, electric play, public humiliation, total exhibition, cum on my face, actual objectification.”
Like everything he does, Finn listens with intention. The way he nods and furrows his brow demonstrates his thoughts as he tucks information into his memory.
Once I end my list, he asks, “Degradation. On or off the table?”
“I’ve never considered it.” I shake my head and make a rational decision. “Hard limit publicly. Privately, on the table with a slow introduction. I don’t want to be pushed hard or fast with that.”
“Good girl.” Finn’s lips twitch from holding back a smile before he wraps his arms around me. “Be my good little slut and sink to your knees so I can fuck your pretty little mouth.”
And just like that, degradation went from soft limit to like.
As I kneel, Finn slides his hands along my body before interlacing his fingers in my hair. The cold tile under my knees is uncomfortable, but I know better than to complain. He knew what he was doing bringing me in here to do this. If he wanted me comfortable, he’d have made sure I was.
Pulling my hair to raise my head upward so I’m looking at him, Finn wets his lips. “Show me how my dirty girl sucks cock.”
Opening my mouth and flattening my tongue, I move forward, the feeling of his cock on my tongue, a welcome friend.
Finn’s hand remains on my head, but his movements are only guided by my own. He’s there, with the ability to take control but allowing me to please him. I take him dutifully, hollowing my cheeks, working to empty his balls.
The thought of Finn coming down my throat has me dripping. My tongue tastes the salty precum, and it only makes me take him deeper.
Finn stops his passive movements, and he pulls my head forward, pushing me against his pelvis. His cock in my throat cuts off my air supply. I gag, but he holds me tight. Fighting every natural urge in my body, I force myself to hold still to take what Finn gives me. I deserve this.
Forgiveness doesn’t come in one instance or apology. Not for something like this.
The corners of my vision are going black when Finn finally releases me from his cock.
“I’m tempted to be a bad Dominant and work you until you finally safeword.” Finn tips my chin up. “But I don’t think you would. You’d just take it.”
He’s not wrong. I want to be able to take anything and everything Finn can give me. There’s nothing I don’t want to experience at his hand.
Finn’s gentle pull on my scalp raises me up off the floor. He nudges me into the shower before turning on the water, and I brace for the impact of the cold. But before turning on the spray, Finn steps between me and the showerhead.
“I don’t know how you handle water that hot.” The knob squeaks in his hand, followed by the sound of the spray.
He turns me to face him, and I try to prepare myself for where I may end up in this mess.
“Relax, faolan. My next plan isn’t in here.” He quirks a smile. “Though I’m making a note to get you cold more often.” Finn’s eyes have fallen to my tits. He rolls his thumb over one of my erect nipples. “What I find peculiar about you is that you’re not pierced. You strike me as the kind of woman who wants more than her ears pierced.”
The movement makes me shudder. His fingers find the other, and he pinches, squeezing tight. His pupils have almost completely overtaken his irises. And the iris that’s visible is his wolf’s green.
His wolf doesn’t leave his eyes as Finn rinses off. After I make enough of a whine, he turns on warm water, rinsing the evidence of our frolic through the countryside off my skin.
He wraps me in a towel and pushes me back toward the bedroom.
“Flat out, on your back, look at me,” Finn demands over his shoulder.
The way his words tip up at the end, peaking with excitement, sends a chill down my spine. Anticipation grows. Between his delivery of the command and his promise of a small punishment from earlier, I know he has plans for me.
I’m just a baby masochist, but you can’t punish a masochist with pain. Finn knows that all too well from when he’s pushed me hard and it was meant to make an impression.
As I’ve been told, I lie on the center of the bed on my back and get an excellent view of his naked form as he walks out of the bathroom. The smirk on his face and lust in his eyes precedes a trip to the suitcase. A lovely bag of tricks.
Having packed me clothes, it seems Finn thought to bring accessories too. He pulls one of my smooth silk scarves from the bag. The cerulean-blue fabric catches in the light.
What does he have planned?
The answer is evident. Finn’s long strides bring him to the head of the bed and me.
“Up.”
A single word and I do as demanded. Sitting up, I wait, and Finn secures the fabric over my eyes. My heart flutters in my chest. The world is dark as I bat my eyelashes against the smooth fabric.
“I shouldn’t have to tell you not to take it off. But it seems like you might get bratty with me,” he whispers in my ear. “Don’t give me a reason to make this more painful.”
Hands firmly on my shoulders, Finn lays me back on the bed.
I tap into my other senses. Eyes rendered useless anyway, I close them, drawing focus on what I can hear.
His feet against the floor. The door opening and then closing behind him. But beyond that, there’s no sound, the thick wood door dampening the rest of the cabin sounds.
The ambient sound of the room only raises my suspicion further. I try to count seconds to delineate time. But by the time I get to three hundred, he hasn’t returned. Drumming my fingers against the mattress, I debate the forbidden removal of the scarf.
He wouldn’t have left us, my wolf assures me. He’ll be back.
The bedroom door opens and closes, startling me.
“Such a good girl, faolan,” Finn praises, and I sigh with relief. “Maybe I can trust you enough to leave you alone for a little bit.”
The jab is well deserved. I focus on the reminder only until I feel the warmth of his skin against mine.
Finn’s strong grip squeezes my ankle and is followed by the tough skin of his palms sliding up my leg. He pulls my legs apart one at a time. Bending the knees, he leaves me spread open for him.
Something new presses against my flesh. Smooth, but not warm nor cold. It holds temperature. The slight pressure runs up the inner portion of my thigh and I focus, trying to determine the shape. It nearly feels convex. It doesn’t quite make a scraping sound, but it definitely drags.
The bed dips, and the warmth of his skin runs along my side. He’s sitting rather than lying next to me. Whatever the object is, it crosses over my mound before trailing back down the other leg to my knee, then running back up along the same course. At my apex, it pauses, lifts away, and ends with a sharp tap. The sound hits before the pain.
I recognize the sound. Wooden spoon.
A harder smack comes, and my legs instinctively move to close, protecting the sensitive skin.
“Kathleen,” Finn tuts in correction.
It takes a massive amount of willpower to keep my legs open, knowing what’s going to happen next.
The next slap lands on the soft skin of my inner thigh. It’s a warm-up tap. I know it. The skin warms at the impact. A few more, and then the other thigh gets the same treatment. Finn turns his attention back to my pussy. His free hand runs down my abdomen before spreading me open. His forearm rests on my low abdomen, stopping me from curling up into a ball. I grip the bedding and draw shaky, uneven breaths.
“Mmm,” Finn groans. “So nervous.”
Sharp pain follows the sound of the spoon’s impact on the sensitive flesh of my pussy. I wince, and my sharp gasp becomes a whimper as Finn delivers two more smacks in quick succession. I curl my toes, battling my whole body against its desire to flee.
More connections between the spoon and my pussy drive me into a writhing mess as pain and pleasure start to become one. Each painful thwack brings me closer to the edge.
“Finn,” I gasp between a pause in rapid-fire strikes.
Finn rumbles in acknowledgment, “Yes, faolan.”
“I’m going to come,” I gasp.
“So do.” Finn’s nonchalant words are permission, but his words curl, and I can picture the smirk spreading across his face.
After two more sharp hits, my body tenses before unraveling, arching off the bed and pressing against his strong forearm. Finn muscles me down, keeping me open. With an expected well-kept rhythm, he lands slap after slap against my pussy until my moans filling the room turn to a whimper. I push my palms against the bed.
“No more,” I whine. “Please. Ow. Please.”
One more harder hit stings, and then Finn’s fingers move from where he held me open. My skin, heated from the spoon, is soothed by him gently massaging the folds. My shoulders sag, relaxing from the tension.
“Next time, I’m tying you down,” Finn warns. “I love watching you struggle.”
“Fuck.” I pant.
The blindfold is completely unnecessary because I instantly recognize the next touch to my skin. Finn’s tongue runs a circle around my nipple. Teeth tenderly bite against the pebbled peak before more long laps continue. He cups the other breast, pinching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
The movement sends ripples of pleasure down my body, resulting in my clit throbbing. Apparently, the wooden spoon did not dampen the neediness.
Finn groans in pleasure, and the vibrations cause more throbbing.
He breaks away. “It’s a shame I’m not done playing with you because I’m so hard.” Finn groans. “I just want to come in your cunt. But you didn’t behave, so we both have to wait.”
I let out a massive exhale and groan.
With a tsk, Finn abandons his dedication to playing with my tits. “You’ll regret that.”
Regret how? I open my mouth to voice the question and promptly close it.
“Don’t get too comfortable, faolan,” Finn warns.
I hear his footsteps on the floor and the shuffling of fabric.
His footsteps return, and Finn’s hand slides up my neck before his thumb runs across my lips and draws down the bottom one.
“Open.”
I do as commanded, and the scent of our arousal and combined cum overwhelms me. The fabric of my panties is pushed into my mouth, and the silky texture tastes strongly of us together.
Finn fills my mouth with them, keeping my jaw open and full.
His voice comes at a whisper in my ear. “Leave these in your mouth. Be a good girl. Good girls don’t spit. If you decide to safeword for whatever reason, tap the bed three times. Tap once if you understand.”
Without a second thought or worry, I tap the bed. Finn’s warmth alongside me leaves, and I’m back to anticipating what’s to come.
A point on my ankle burns and stings without impact. My brain doesn’t register it at first, but it quickly catches on to the sensation. Ice, or something cold, slides up along my inner thigh.
I gasp, biting down on my panties. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The something cold is definitely ice; water trails left from the melt run along my skin. I’m shivering before it slides north of my knees. I fist the sheets.
Wrestling with my self-control, I fail as the ice cube gets too far up my inner thigh, and I squeeze them shut.
Finn’s voice is soft and warming. “Let it happen, faolan.”
Slowly, I pry my legs apart. Drawing deep breaths in and out through my nose, I let them fall open.
“Good girl,” Finn applauds, and the bed dips.
The stinging, searing feeling of ice running across my skin returns, this time skating up my torso and over my gagged mouth. I vocalize my displeasure.
That draws a laugh from Finn. “I’m sorry, faolan, I didn’t quite catch that.”
He runs the ice the length of my torso back down before returning up and circling around my nipples. I try to push myself down into the bed, away from his touch. The movement only causes him to press more of the cold against my flesh, and I scream into my gag again.
“For someone who grew up in a place where it snows all the time, you’re not suited for it, are you?” Finn mocks me, running it back down and circling my belly button before doing exactly what I expected.
The small bit of ice that hadn’t melted on my warm skin follows Finn’s fingers straight to my clit. I buck and writhe, my fingers digging into the blankets so hard I’m afraid they’ll rip. As the last of the ice melts against my wetness, I finally draw a deep breath in through my nose and outward, pushing past the panties used to gag me.
Finn’s weight on the bed causes it to dip again, and he easily picks me up, laying me on what feels like the diagonal of the bed.
“Much better.” Finn’s voice is dark, sadistic.
I didn’t really expect one piece of ice to be the end of it. But the feeling of ice touching my flesh again still causes me to flinch. It’s not held in his hands though. The familiar feeling of his nose and short-trimmed beard running up the inside of my leg accompanies the ice.
Relaxing is impossible. I try and fail and try again to stop my body from tensing, but with each inch of the ice running up my leg, I lose focus. Finn’s fingers open my slit and easily slide into me. He curls and uncurls them, already working me toward an orgasm. But it’s just teasing. The orgasm is run off by the chill of the ice. His tongue, cold from the ice, laps my clit, and then he slides the ice against it.
The water trails down my pussy as the cube melts. As the skin warms following the final bit of ice melting away, I chase my orgasm. Finn’s fingers and tongue work me over as I moan, trying to grind against his face.
Disappointment hits hard as he pulls away, withdrawing his fingers from within me. Finn takes his body heat with him and leaves me shivering uncontrollably. Without his fingers fucking me, the only thing I want to accept in their place is his cock. I lift my hips, hoping to tempt him.
“Don’t be so eager. You might not like what you get.” The warning tone of Finn’s voice has me guessing at what comes next.
