Conquering Sabrina Read Free Page A

coy attempts to curl her body inwards and cover her modesty with her hands.
    A long leather strap hung from a large iron hook on the wall in front of her as though it was kept there for such occasions. Raoul pulled the strap from the hook and took firm hold of her body. He wound the strap tightly around her hands and pulled her captive form towards the hook. The hook was low down in the wall and as he tethered her to it, he cruelly made her keep a small distance so she was forced to bend and stretch her back. She felt him arrange her with his cool hands, instructing her to stretch and part her thighs. Her lover stroked her pale pink delicate skin with a featherlike caress, delving beneath her body to cup her breasts in a soothing action. She warmed to his protective possessive touch. He made a remark that she reminded him of one of his beautiful mares. Never had Sabrina felt so exposed or open.
    Raoul retrieved his riding crop lying on top of one of the walls of the booth. He trailed the leather end the length of her spine, down the crevice of her buttocks, making her move against it. She was to receive ten strikes of the crop.
    Sabrina felt him move the crop under her body to her breasts to lightly circle her taut nipples. She cried out with pained surprise when he unexpectedly struck her breasts with the crop. The heavy globes quivered with aftershock. She had been shocked and indignant, but another two strikes of the riding crop bracing harshly across her nipples silenced her complaining tongue. Her nipples burned and tingled in unison with a sudden wet aching need pulsing in her pussy. The feeling was exquisite and yet painfully torturous. God help her, she wanted more. He moved the crop down her stomach to the crevice between her thighs. Sabrina obediently parted her legs on his stern command to receive the leather flap at the end of the crop, biting her lip at what was about to come.
    Raoul remarked at the seeping wetness coating her clit and thighs. He sought out the small bud between her legs and beat it with the riding crop. At first his strikes were gentle and teasing, and then they built in severity. Sabrina groaned and bleated, feeling pleasure build and strengthen as he whipped her clit with increasing harshness. She was desperate to come. Her clit was so swollen, engorged, and sensitive. It made her whimper. Her feelings were conflicted. No lover had been allowed to sexually tame her. It was something she had ruled out completely when they’d tried it, but here she was allowing this man to make her surrender to him and she couldn’t get enough of it.
    Sabrina’s soft gentle submissive cries grew louder, attracting attention from the grooms as she strained like one of Raoul’s tethered mares against her bonds ready to come like a bitch in heat.
    “I think we should gag you, cherie . Next time I will have you bridled,” he chuckled, whipping her clit with a little more force. “Now come for me, darling,” he commanded, giving her clit a harsh spank. Her body was more than willing to obey and came with a force she had never experienced. She bucked her release with a loud scream, stirring all the other horses in the stables.
    Sabrina found herself blushing at the scene replaying in her mind. She was confused and disturbed. Again, Raoul appeared amused as though he could see the images in her mind. His dark eyes smouldered down at her as he guided her through a string of rooms until they finally reached the dining room. Something was very wrong. Why did her mind choose to insert him in her memories? They couldn’t be real.
    What if… No. It couldn’t be…
    The dining room was a deep earthy gothic red, garnished with Flemish tapestries and portraits of the chateau’s previous ancestral owners. The long oak table was dressed with elaborate candelabra dripping lightly with molten wax. The flames of the candles flickered shadows around the room as they entered. It was just the way she liked to have dinner,