Well, here's something to stuff your stocking. My second Blue Moon House prequel focuses on Harry or Harrold who is an accountant. I think that's all the set up you need for this scene.
She took his hands and perched on the bed beside him. “Do you trust me, Harrold?” she asked, pulling his wrist to her nose. He could easily imagine her biting him.
“I-I think so.”
She shook her head. “Not enough. Did you think it odd how Kendra asked me to stop?” He tried to remember. So much of the time with the black girl was seen through the blood haze of Lynn's bite afterward.
“Something about milk?”
She grinned, kissing and licking his wrist. Her touch was cool, but the way she brushed, teased, was making him quite warm. “That's right. The boss man first took her in a milking barn. That's her limit. When she goes there, she has gone as far as she can. She is seeing red. I would have the same from you. A sign of trust.” She ran the edge of her teeth over the inside of his palm before lowering his hand. There was no blood, no bite. “I will promise you, Harrold, as a sign of trust, that I will not bite you tonight or on your next two visits. Additionally, I promise to cease all encounters, touching, beating, whatever it may be, when you see red, reaching the place you cannot go past.”
He wasn't sure he understood.
“Kendra's milking barn,” she repeated. “Where do you fear too go? How much is too much?”
“Red,” he murmured. “Red accounts, red balances, red debt. Seeing red.”
She nodded. “You might also use black,”she said with a smile. “If there's anything you want more of, when you want me to push harder, you can say black.”
Harrold smiled, relaxing. Whether it was her promise or this new means of communication, he felt better. “Thank you. What can I do for you?” he asked leaning closer.
“Hmm.” Her eyes took him in slowly. “I think you should remove your shirt.”
Harrold readily obeyed, peeling away his jacket and shirt.
“Sit here,” she directed, pointing to the floor between her knees. She leaned him forward and began tracing his back. “How did you come by these?”
“Belt buckles and careless whores.”
“Did you reprimand them?” she asked working her way lower.
He chuckled. “Actually, I told them to beat me harder.”
The situation seemed odd to Harrold. He was between her knees. If he turned his face would be in her sex, but instead she asked him questions.
“I don't know. It felt...better when I bled. The madams were quick to punish the girls if they found out.”
“When I couldn't avoid it.”
“Do you want more?” She swung her leg over his head and got to her feet. Opening the doors of the wardrobe, she dug around inside and came out with a whip. It was as long as she was tall, made of fine braided leather. The end was knotted with several straps flaring out. Harrold stiffened when he saw it, scrambling to his feet to stand nearer.
His chest rose and fell. His desire, he hoped, was clear on his face. Lynn turned slightly and cracked the whip. He almost erupted in his pants. Fighting with belt and fly, he rushed to get out of them.
Lynn stopped him with a hand on his wrist. As he had been before, he was impressed at her strength.
“Does that come with blood?” he asked, curious, but afraid.
“Do you care? As long as I use it on this.” She cracked the whip again, harder and faster than the first time. “I want you uncomfortable, Harrold,” she said stepping close enough to kiss. Her hand released his wrist so she could palm his erection through his trousers. “I want you to make a mess of your fine clothes. What do you say?”
Grinning, he found precisely the right word, “Black.”
What makes you cry black? When do you see red? Leave a comment (including email addess) to enter to win a copy of Blue Moon House. Or head over to Naughty Nights Press and buy a copy. Commenting will also enter you for the grand prizes from http://carrieannbloghops.blogspot.com:
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