SWNOVELS Dead of Wynter: Chapter 35
My eyes widen at the words. Everett seemed so against punishing me today after what happened, he said I couldn’t handle it, but he seems to have done a complete flip. If there’s anything I need right now it’s to be taken out of my head, to float in the bliss and know he won’t let me fall.
The voice in the back of my head tells me to look at whatever he’s put on the bed, but I know better than doing the opposite of what he’s instructed me to do. I’ve spent enough time in the scene to know that will only make any punishment he has planned for me that much worse.
“Stand,” Everett says evenly and I quickly do as he’s told me.
It feels good to feed this part of me again after allowing it to remain dormant for so many years. It’s not that I didn’t want to submit in all those years, it’s that I couldn’t put one hundred percent trust into someone that they wouldn’t hurt me like Craig did. Until now.
Everett knows me better than I know myself. It’s always been this way, and I know he won’t push me further than I can take, and if I safe word, he’ll stop before the word even finishes rolling off my tongue. This is the only situation I would have felt safe, the only person I would have ever been able to do this with.
He smiles down at me, his fingers brushing along my cheek and down my neck. His eyes trail down the path his fingers move, and when they reach my breasts he lets out a low sound of appreciation. Both hands move to cup them, flicking the sensitive nubs and making me squeeze my legs together. “You are so beautiful, dove.”
“Thank you,” I reply quietly. The Doms I’ve played with in the past weren’t big talkers, and I’ve never been with Everett like this, I don’t want to upset him before we can really get started.
“You may talk freely, Wynter. Unless I tell you otherwise, I want to hear your words.”
“Okay.” I smile.
His eyes continue their perusal of my body, and I can’t find it in me to feel shy. Usually having anyone look at me like this would be enough to make me want to cover up, but as I stand in front of Everett, feeling more vulnerable than I can ever remember feeling, confidence washes over me. The fire in his deep pools gives me everything I need to remain standing without the urge to cover myself. “As I mentioned, I would like to restrain you. Are you comfortable with that?” he asks, his eyes burning into mine before I can even respond.
He’s looking for a lie. He thinks I might push myself further than I’m comfortable with in order to please him.
“I’d like to try,” I tell him honestly. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to handle it, especially if he’s going to punish me while I’m tied down, but I like to think if there’s anyone who can make it happen, it’s Everett.
He nods once, a small smile playing at his lips. “Hands behind your back for me, little dove,” he commands and I follow immediately. Even just following his orders feels freeing. It’s been too long since I’ve been able to let go and just be. Since I’ve been able to rely on someone else for everything. And I like it. “You’re being a very good girl, dove.”
Something soft touches my wrists and binds them together. There’s a moment of panic where my mind wanders to a place I haven’t allowed it to go in a long time, but then Everett’s back in front of me, his face soft.
“Okay?”
I nod, allowing myself to close my eyes for a moment to gather my composure, to remind myself I’m safe and no one is going to hurt me. When I open them again, Everett is staring at me intently, a flash of worry in his eyes. “I’m alright,” I assure him.
He watches me for another moment before speaking. “I’ve bound your wrists with a silk scarf. It’s not tight and if you tug you’ll be able to release the knot. If you get too overwhelmed I want you to say your safe word and tug at the scarf to break free, okay?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to thank him for doing this for me, but he can see it in my eyes how thankful I am for him giving this part of myself back. So instead I say, “Yes, I can do that.”
Everett smiles down at me before cupping my cheek in one of his big hands. “I’m proud of you, dove. Even if we get three minutes in and you safe word, I’m still going to be so fucking proud of you.”
I preen under his attention, under his soft words that hold so much meaning, and even though I’m nervous, I know I can do this, because Everett will hold me up even when I can’t hold myself, just like he always has.
“I want you to bend over the arm of the lounge over there, and then we’re going to start slow.”
He doesn’t check in this time, and I’m kind glad for it. Every time he does it gives me an opportunity to back out, and even though the intensity of the anxiety coursing through my body makes me question myself, I don’t want to stop.
I do as he asks, taking slow, measured steps across the room, acutely aware of my bound wrists and clumsiness, but I make it and do as he asks, carefully folding my body over the arm and repositioning until the cushioning is in a comfortable place.
The sound of a drawer opening piques my interest, but I don’t lift my head from the softness beneath my cheek. If he wants me to know what he’s doing, he’ll tell me. Heavy footsteps grow closer and a bag drops behind me. Anticipation builds low in my belly, mixing with something else entirely. Heat. Every move Everett makes is like a lightning rod to my core.
“I’m going to give you twenty, but I want to trial some other things apart from my hand. I’ll give you two with each and then check in before continuing. What are your safe words?”
“Green for okay, orange to pause and talk, red for stop,” I rattle them off like I’ve done it a million times when in reality, I’ve only ever used the system once in the past.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Five with my hand to warm you up, then we’ll move on.”
His palm rubs across my bare ass and a shiver of need rushes across my skin and takes my breath away. He doesn’t make me wait long before his hand lifts and then comes down in a brutal slap that makes my hips shove forward into the arm of the chair. Another three come in hard and fast before he lands the last one and massages the burn in. I’m already panting and he’s barely even started.
“How are you doing, Wynter?” Everett asks as he kneads the stinging flesh of my ass, massaging until the burn runs so deep it feels like it’s at the bone.
“Green,” I moan. The combination of startling pain and heat rush together to my core, setting my entire body on fire.
Everett makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat and I hear him rustle around in the bag he set beside me, but I stay where I am, face pressed into the cushion, fighting my inquisitive nature. His warmth returns behind me and I hold my breath for the feel of something on my already sensitive ass, but nothing comes. For long moments my breath is hitched, waiting, and waiting, and waiting. But he just stands there.
I open my mouth to ask what he’s doing when I hear it. Buzzing. Familiar buzzing. Where do I know that sound from… I almost get all the way through asking myself the question when an assault of vibrations hits my clit and I lurch forward in surprise.
“Ev,” I groan.
“You wanted to give yourself… how did you phrase it again, dove? Self-care.” The words are darker than I’m used to hearing from Everett, and that only makes my pussy clench around the emptiness. The vibrations increase and I let out a hiss, every inch of my skin is alight with electricity, and every bit of pleasure he pushes upon me is felt throughout every cell. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I whisper through the climax climbing at the edge of my consciousness. Everett and I haven’t been together enough for him to be able to play my body like this, and yet he is. He’s sure of every move he makes, of the pressure he uses on my clit, on the gentle caress of my bare back as he drives me higher and higher, and the exact moment I reach the precipice of my release. That last one I know for a fact he knows because one second I’m riding the edge, ready to tumble over the edge, and the next there’s nothing. “What the fuck?” I snap.
Everett chuckles. “Bad girls don’t get to come, Wynter. Bad girls get edged until their legs shake with the need for release, until they’re begging and promising every dirty deed under the sun just to be allowed to come.”
My mouth drops open at the words and for a moment, the slightest of seconds, I think about saying my safe word. But it wouldn’t be right because I’m not overwhelmed or unable to handle what he’s doing to me, I’m just frustrated, which is exactly how he wants me.