The honeymoon is over and it’s time for Sam and Ethan to start the rest of their lives together.
Fate has been kind to the couple so far, but can their luck hold out? Is their relationship strong enough to withstand the challenges ahead?
Fasten your seat belts and hang onto your hats for the final installment in the Matte series.
Warning: Sadism involving real pain, f/f fisting, and the use of toys including canes, floggers, belts, tawses, wax, armbinders, plugs, unusual playroom furniture, and the new punishment warned of during The Honeymoon that gives Sam lots of incentive to submit exactly as Ethan expects.
Release date: October 3, 2014
Put it in your bookshelf on Goodreads!
Buy it at:
Her master wanted her here — bound, restricted. Trusting the ropes was the same as trusting him, believing in his knots, his ropework. She was as safe in the rope’s embrace as she was when wrapped in his arms.
The first swipe of the flogger was more of a brush. A caress.
She moaned and squirmed as the soft leather slowly heated her skin. He moved from flogger to flogger, and added intensity until the slow burn was a raging inferno, and still, she wanted more.
The rope web rippled and flowed around her, shifting in waves as she moved, and practically pulsing as the flogger fell again, and again, and again.
Her Master occasionally turned one or the other vibrator off, and partway through he gave her permission to come as often as she wanted.
And she did.
Sam knew something was about to change when he walked to her front and untied the crotch strap, but she hung limp on the rope and caught her breath while she had the chance.
He removed the vibrator in her pussy but left the plug in her bottom.
Sam thought she might orgasm again at the mere touch of his cock pressing into her, but she breathed through it, wanting to feel him inside of her before she flew into the stratosphere again.
However, when his arms slid through the rope and cradled her to him, it was too much and she only hoped she still had permission to come at will because she hit the summit and sailed into ecstasy with no warning — all she could do was scream and beg as it engulfed her in pleasure.
“Fuck yes,” he growled, “come on my cock. Let me make love to you a little while before I hurt you again.”
Her eyes opened and she took a stuttering breath when hit with the feral power of his brilliant green gaze.
At times he watched as a lover, and at times as a predator on the savannah, eyeing prey. Today, it was a combination of the two, and she had to close her eyes because the intensity was just too much.
Ethan took his time fucking her, sliding in and out in long, slow, smooth strokes. Sam moaned in ecstasy with each entrance, and whined in complaint when he pulled out and stepped away.
He caressed her cheek and gazed into her eyes. “As much as I’ve loved making you fly and giving you the kind of pain I know you like, it’s time for me to get rough.”
“I know, Master. I love you.”
Fear and adrenaline flooded her veins, but it wasn’t fear of being hurt. This was the apprehension you feel while watching a horror movie, when you’re choosing to be there because you want the thrill of being terrified.
Sam wasn’t sure if he meant for her to see the tawse, but she did, and her heart beat against her rib cage as heat flooded her clit.
Her body braced for the first strike, but as soon as she realized she’d tensed, she forced herself to relax. He wanted her to accept this, submit to it.
She hadn’t even noticed the music until he turned it off, and then the silence was so loud. Her ragged breath, her heartbeat, Ethan’s footsteps as he walked back to her. The sounds distorted as if they’d gone through a funhouse mirror, and — suspended in mid-air — Sam couldn’t get grounded, couldn’t find her center.
The first strike of the tawse seemed to echo in the room, but a half second later her scream drowned out all other sounds.
Pain can be something you float on top of, or it can be a physical force that smothers you. She’d had plenty of the smothering kind when she was in the hospital, and then later while recovering. However, this pain, given lovingly from her Master? She never wanted it to end.
Ethan gave her enough time between strikes to climb on top of the pain and then fear the next while she floated.
A particularly hard strike had her fighting to pull air into her lungs, and if there’d been anything in her bladder she’d have lost it.
The pain centered her as her body convulsed in a delirious frenzy on the dancing spiderweb of rope and chain. She craved the feel of the tawse and wanted it harder, and faster.
She wanted the pain to consume her until there was nothing else.
With effort, she managed to verbalize, “More, Master.”
Several seconds passed and she didn’t think he’d heard, but then the tawse struck again, and again, without time between. The rope shifted with and around her as she alternated pushing her bottom towards him with trying to escape the merciless leather.
Her vocal chords engaged with her ragged breathing and she made noises she’d never heard before, but she didn’t want it to stop. She’d become the pain, and she needed more, and more, or she might cease to exist.
When the tawse hit the floor she screamed in protest, but then pushed her bottom towards him again when his fingers wrapped around the outside portion of the plug in her ass.
He pulled it out and pressed his slick cock into her, and she moaned in pleasure and bliss as he spread her wider than she was prepared to handle. He’d used one of their smaller plugs, so the burn as he pushed in was exquisitely painful.
Ethan was only halfway in when he grabbed her hips and jerked her body towards him as he shoved, and she screamed as he went all the way in, all at once.
He yanked out, thrust back in, and then her world turned inside-out as he fucked her without mercy.
She was helpless to control the speed or depth, much less the force and intensity as he hammered in and out of her.
Nothing existed except his cock inside her body. Fucking her. Owning her. Ravaging her.
There was no gravity, no logical thought, no rope web. Her senses could only process his hands on her hips, his cock in her ass, and the heat on her backside as he took her.
It could have lasted five minutes or thirty, she didn’t know and didn’t care. When he finally went in and held, and she felt his warmth flooding her insides, he reached to her front, pressed her clit, and ordered her to come — she came unglued.