Free Make Me: An Erotic BDSM Romance by Cate Bellerose

boobs into the sheets, making them brush against my nipples. Every little bit of me is tense, waiting for his touch or the touch of his belt.
    “As I like to say, this is gonna hurt you...”
    I cut him off. “...more than it hurts me. Blah fucking blah. You need new lines, babe.”
    A whistle as the belt cuts through the air is the only response, followed by a loud smack and bright stripe of pain across my ass. My breath goes out of me with a whoosh, making my cry come out as a dry wheeze.
    I draw a deep breath. “That all you got, big guy?”
    Another stripe follows, and this time I voice my cry. Fuck, that stings, right across the back of my right thigh. Then another, and another, quick smacks against my ass cheeks.
    “All you have to say is that you’re mine, and the hurt will stop.”
    “You can kiss my shiny red ass, Gabe.”
    “You bet it’s shiny and red. You’ll be sitting pretty in the morning.” His voice is tight, controlled, but only barely. There’s an animal under there, just aching to get out. My animal. “You’re lucky you already got a solid round tonight, or I’d go a lot harder on you.”
    The leather kisses my skin again, hard. Forcefully, painting my skin red, one swelling track after another. If that’s going easy, I fear what hard means. It burns, deep beneath the skin, tingles racing up and down my spine, my legs, out to my fingertips. My nerve endings flare up every time the leather strap impacts.
    He stops, and it’s almost worse. Without each new strike to focus on, I’m forced to feel everything he’s already done. It’s like I can almost pick out every individual stripe on my skin. My gut’s clenching, and I’m catching my breath from all the screaming. Love hurts.
    Love?
    Jesus, it’s only been a few days, but that can’t be it, can it? Infatuation? Puppy love? Appreciation of a good time? They don’t sound sufficient.
    When did I pinch my eyes shut? I open and watch him. He’s not looking at my face, but eyeing his handiwork. His expression is captivated, like he’s examining a masterpiece. The corners of his mouth are turned up, a private smile as he takes me in.
    He reaches out, and even though I watch him do it, I still jump when his rough fingers make contact with the sensitive skin of my ass. He bends forward, and touches his lips right next to his fingers.
    “Told ya.” I can only whisper, still catching my breath.
    He ignores me and kneels, touching his lips right onto my folds. Oh God. The sweet touch of his kiss contrasts starkly with my aches and burns. He kisses again, letting his tongue flick out to touch my clit. It’s like a spark flashes and arcs across my skin.
    “Imagine, Pet. It could be so good, so sweet. You could be moaning in ecstasy, not crying in pain. Just tell me who you belong to.” He stands and readies, already knowing what my answer will be.
    I wiggle my upturned ass at him. “I belong to me. Whatcha gonna do about it?”
    He strikes with a loud thwack, the sound echoing in my bedroom. “This.”
    Sharp pain drives through me, making my whole body thrum. He lays into me, blow after blow, until I can hardly tell one hit from another. The pain roars in my ears, blocking out everything else.
    The tears finally come, sliding down my cheeks while I sob, my breath catching in my throat. There’s a purity to it, a cleansing, an obliteration of the self in the pain. A release, and suddenly it all wells out. It’s that perfect moment, when it’s been exactly enough, exactly right, delivered by exactly the right man.
    “I’m yours.” I barely get it out between gasps. “I’m yours, Gabriel.”
    The belt clatters to the floor. I hadn’t even noticed him bring them in, but he grabs a little wrapper off my dresser and tears it open, then slides on the condom quickly, eagerly. Yes. Finally.
    Getting behind me on his knees, he nudges the tip right up against me. “You haven’t forgotten your safewords, right?”
    “No safewords. I’m