Can some scars ever truly heal?
Cherie ran away from Ink once. She is not going to get the chance to do so again. But helping her heal will take all of Ink's skills as a Dom. Using Shibari, knife play, and ménage sex, he shows her that pleasure can be found in the things that haunt her.
Emotionally and physically scarred, Cherie has sought refuge at Club Ink, where she keeps everyone at arm's length. When Ink forces her to face her demons, does her submission hold the key to her future happiness? Or will their shared past destroy them once and for all?
Be Warned: anal sex, sex toys, BDSM, menage sex.
She was so fucking beautiful it hurt to look at her. With her arms cuffed high above her head her bountiful tits displayed beautifully, her abundant curves covered in the marks left by his claws, his cum drying on her belly, all he saw was his woman, his mate. He ground his teeth and forced his tiger to stand down, aware of Cherie's renewed agitation. She yanked on her restraints, her expressive eyes deep pools of molten chocolate widening in fear.
"Stop fidgeting." He delivered the words with a quick openhanded swat to her mound, and Cherie's hips bucked off the bed. She bit her lips, and he smiled at her moan when he trailed his index finger through her wet pussy lips and up towards her anus. Her increased scent and the renewed gush of moisture coating his hand told him all he needed to know, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Thought of punishment went out of his head, and instead he followed his tiger's instincts and lowered his head. He inhaled the sweet scent calling him, his fingers digging into Cherie's thighs to spread her wider still. Her nether lips opened beautifully, so all of her quivering, glistening cunt was there for him to feast over. He had to taste her, to bring her to the brink of orgasm again and again. His smile turned wicked, and he blew against her wet folds. Cherie bucked underneath him, her long drawn out hiss of pleasure music to his ears. He allowed himself one long, slow, lick along her slit, and then bit down on her clit.
Every muscle in Cherie's body tensed; her breath hitched; her thighs trembled and clenched around his head, and his smile deepened. Nothing used to bring her to the brink faster. He blew against the engorged bud again and allowed his claws to run out. He dug them into her thighs just hard enough to break the skin, to remind her who was in charge.
"Do you need help keeping these open for me?" He growled the words into her pussy, allowing himself another slow lick of her sweet juices, before he raised his head to look at her.
Eyes wide as saucers, her skin flushed, Cherie shook her head, and Ink withdrew his claws and sank his thumb into her nether hole.
His tiger roared at the mark of his possession, Cherie's whimper of submission making Ink's cock harden in record time again.
"I can't hear you, girl."
He trailed the fingers of his other hand along the lips of her cunt, swirling it slowly around her pearl, and Cherie panted her answer.
"Sorry … no … oh … yes … please. Oh God, don't stop."
He flicked her clit once, twice, and inserted another finger into her sphincter, all the while keeping up the circling motion around her clit, designed to drive her higher and higher. His balls grew tight, and his tiger growled at the soft feminine moans filling the air.
He'd played with plenty of willing and experienced subs, and trained lots of new ones, but nothing beat the sweet responsiveness of this woman. That she would give herself so trustingly to him after everything that had happened to her, blew him away. The tell-tale tightening of her quivering muscles under his fingers told him how close she was, and he stepped up his assault.
"Remember who owns your orgasms, baby girl."
His warning just seemed to excite her further, and he groaned watching her body climb. His cock throbbed, and he tortured himself by rubbing it along the velvet skin of her hip, leaving a wet trail of his pre-cum behind. It took every ounce of his self-control to not just allow himself to slide deep into her welcoming heat. She'd fit him like a glove the first time round, so tight and hot, it had been a miracle he'd had managed to pull out and not spill his seed inside her, like his tiger had urged him to do. He'd only ever lost control with Cherie. From the minute his tiger had scented her all those years ago, he'd known she was his, and she always would be. But he was older and wiser now, and they had a lot of ground to cover still, until they could even think of moving on. The reminder how much was at stake here focused his sole attention on the woman writhing underneath him. Her body tensed, her skin flushed all over, and just as she was about to fly off into ecstasy he withdrew.
Her eyes flew open, and she tried to tense her thighs around him to stop him from leaving. Silly little tigress played right into his hands. He bit down on the soft skin of her inner thigh and slapped the globes of her ass. The red imprint of his hand stood out against the pale skin, and Cherie froze the minute she realized her mistake.
"I'm, sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to." Her husky whisper had him harden to the point of pain, and he slapped her ass again, satisfied to see the shudder going through her. A few more slaps followed, each one making her wetter until she twisted onto her side of her own accord, grinding her thighs together to get herself off. He put considerable more force behind his last slap to her now red hot ass and then pulled her down the bed as far as he could, stretching her legs wide and turning her on her front.
"Such pretty words, but you don't mean them, do you?" He stood back perusing her, and he chuckled at the mutinous look she threw at him over her shoulder.
Much better, baby. Show me some of your sass.
"Yes, I do. I'm sorry, Sir."
He had to look away to hide his smile, but oh it felt good to have her goading him whilst she was completely at his mercy.