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Chapter 17

Does Lace want more?

Beg for it

The Inquisitor’s fingers circled her entrance, teasing, torturing, never giving her the pressure she so desperately craved. Lace’s breath hitched, her body arching involuntarily, the silk ropes biting into her wrists as she strained against them. His chest pressed against her back, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered, “Beg for it, Lace. Show me how much you want it.”

Her cheeks burned, her pride warring with the overwhelming need coursing through her. “I… I can’t,” she gasped, her voice trembling as his fingers continued their maddening rhythm.

“You can,” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. “And you will.” His teeth nipped at her earlobe, the sharp sting sending a jolt of electricity down her spine. “Beg.”

Her resolve crumbled. “Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Please, sir… I need it.”

“Louder,” he commanded, his fingers pausing just long enough to remind her who was in control.

“Please!” she cried, her voice breaking as she twisted against the restraints. “Please, I need it. I need you.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and she felt his smirk against her skin. “Good girl,” he purred, his fingers finally applying the pressure she’d been craving. She gasped, her hips bucking as his fingers delved deeper, exploring, claiming, driving her to the edge.

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted—needed—more. “Sir,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation. “Please… don’t stop.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear once more. “Then beg for the next strike.”

Her eyes widened, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. “I… I want it,” she whispered, her voice barely a whisper.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.

“I want it,” she repeated, her voice stronger now. “I want you to strike me.”

He straightened, his hand leaving her slick heat to rest on the curve of her ass. “Good girl,” he murmured, his tone approving. “But I want to hear you beg for it.”

She hesitated, her pride still clinging to her like a cloak. But the need, the craving, was too strong. “Please,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need. “Please, sir… strike me.”

The sound of his hand connecting with her flesh was sharp, the pain immediate and intense. She cried out, her body jerking against the restraints as the sting radiated through her. But beneath the pain was something else—a deep, unrelenting pleasure that left her gasping for more.

“Again,” he ordered, his voice firm.

She didn’t hesitate this time. “Please, sir… strike me again.”

Another sharp crack echoed through the room, the pain mingling with the pleasure until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Her body was trembling, her skin flushed and sensitive, but she wanted more. Needed more.

“Please,” she begged, her voice breaking. “Please, sir… don’t stop.”

He obliged, his hand coming down again and again, each strike pushing her further, testing her limits. She squirmed and gasped with each impact, her body growing hotter with every strike. The pain was intense, but so was the pleasure, the two blending together until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

By the time he paused, her body was trembling, her skin flushed and sensitive. He leaned over her, his breath hot against her ear. “How do you feel?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“I… I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s too much… but it’s not enough.”

He chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill through her. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his hand caressing the heated skin of her thighs. “But we’re not done yet.”

She tensed, her breath catching in her throat as his fingers trailed lower, teasing her entrance. “Sir—please—” she gasped, her voice trembling with need.

“Do you want more?” he asked, his tone both a challenge and a promise.

She nodded frantically, her body trembling with anticipation. “Yes, sir. Please… I need more.”

He moved behind her, his body pressing against hers as he leaned down to whisper, “I want you to beg for the next strike.”

Her breath hitched, her body arching as his fingers circled her entrance, teasing her relentlessly. “Please,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need. “Please, sir… I want it. I need it.”

“Show me,” he commanded, his fingers pressing harder, “how much you want it.”

“Please!” she cried, her voice breaking as she twisted against the restraints. “Please, I need it. I need you. I need you to strike me.”

His lips curved into a faint smile, and she felt his smirk against her skin. “Good girl,” he purred, his hand coming down sharply on her ass, the pain and pleasure mingling until she cried out, her body trembling with need.

“Again,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation. “Please, sir… again.”

He obliged, his hand coming down again and again, each strike pushing her further, testing her limits. She squirmed and gasped with each impact, her body growing hotter with every strike. The pain was intense, but so was the pleasure, the two blending together until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

By the time he paused, her body was trembling, her skin flushed and sensitive. He leaned over her, his breath hot against her ear. “Do you want more?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

She nodded frantically, her body trembling with anticipation. “Yes, sir. Please… I need more.”

He moved behind her, his body pressing against hers as he leaned down to whisper, “Then beg for it.”

Her breath hitched, her body arching as his fingers circled her entrance, teasing her relentlessly. “Please,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need. “Please, sir… I want it. I need it.”

“Show me,” he commanded, his fingers pressing harder, “how much you want it.”

“Please!” she cried, her voice breaking as she twisted against the restraints. “Please, I need it. I need you. I need you to strike me.”

He smirked, his hand coming down sharply on her ass, the pain and pleasure mingling until she cried out, her body trembling with need.

“Again,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation. “Please, sir… again.”

He obliged, his hand coming down again and again, each strike pushing her further, testing her limits. She squirmed and gasped with each impact, her body growing hotter with every strike. The pain was intense, but so was the pleasure, the two blending together until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

By the time he paused, her body was trembling, her skin flushed and sensitive. He leaned over her, his breath hot against her ear. “Do you want more?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

She nodded frantically, her body trembling with anticipation. “Yes, sir. Please… I need more.”

He moved behind her, his body pressing against hers as he leaned down to whisper, “Then beg for it.”

What does the Inquisitor do next?

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