End With A Bang (Slap/Bang Duet #2)

32. Make a Mark

Ivy was gasping for air, dying for release. “Please, please, please...”

The whip lashed her backside, and she flinched.

He dragged the whip handle down her lips, forcing her mouth open. “Come out, come out, little demon...”

She squirmed against the cross and her riding saddle, fitted with a double penetration attachment and a clitoral stimulator—and now he wouldn’t turn it back on, or let her ride it.

He whipped her again. “Did I tell you you could move?”

“I’m sorry,” she whined. “Please, just... please let me come. I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you say!”

“That’s what you said last time, and you didn’t take me all the way down your throat. You gagged.”

“I’ll do it right this time, Daddy, I promise...!”

“You promise? You swear? You’ll take it ‘til you choke?”

She nodded fiercely.

Suddenly, the saddle began to vibrate, and each component began to move independently. One massaged her g-spot, one bucked in her rectum, and one sucked on her clit. Ivy writhed and shuddered, so close, so close, so close...

“You like taking two cocks at once, nymphette ? Like it when Daddy’s friends have a go?”

That tipped her over the line, and all sound was drowned out by primal shouts that went on until her last, grateful spasm.

But it wasn’t over, because Daddy loved inflicting torture on her swollen, tender pearl.

He liked to keep it going, liked to see how long she could take it.

She did have a safe word now: Sunflower . But she liked to see how long she could take it, too.

“Please, please, turn it off,” she begged. “I can’t take it...”

“But you begged me to turn it on,” Sever said. “Now you want it off. Which is it?”

“Off, off, please !” She could wiggle out of the grip of the sucker, but only for a second or two.

“Hmm. I can’t tell if that’s my Dolly, or the demon inside her.” He shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”

“I swear it’s me, it’s your Dolly! Please turn it?—”

Another lash stung her back.

“You don’t get to say when it stops.” He crouched down beside her. “It stops when Daddy’s little pearl is ruby red.” He held up the remote, and she watched as he cranked up the speed. Then he activated the nipple clamps.

Convulsing, dying against the cross, she screamed and cried... and came again.

And again.

And again.

Finally, mercifully, he shut it off, stood before her, and unzipped his pants. Eagerly, she took him into her mouth. Hand in her hair, he controlled her movement—but at the first sign of her gagging, he pulled out. “Sorry love. Sunflower?”

Panting, she shook her head.

“Arms hurt?”

“A little.”

Sever unfastened her cuffs from the cross and lifted her off of the saddle. Carried her to the spread chair, crouched before it to attach her ankle cuffs to a pull on each side. “Show Daddy how red it is.”

She spread her labia but couldn’t expose her clit. “It’s too wet.”

He took off his t-shirt and used it to dry her off, making her squeal at the pressure.

Finally, she opened it for his viewing.

“Little Red,” he said to it. “Gonna eat you. Make you redder...”

“No! Sunflower!”

“I wasn’t going to actually eat it, love,” he said, knowing full well what she meant. “You see, there’s an old fairy tale?—”

She rolled her eyes. “If you touch it one more time, I will hurt you.”

He pretended he didn’t understand. “So you want me to touch it.”

“Okay, if you touch it I won’t hurt you.”

He nodded. “Guess I’ll take my clothes off and wait for Mistress to show.”

“Climb up here, put your dick in my mouth and be quiet.”

His eyes lit up, and he was on her in a second.

“Happy anniversary, tigre ,” she said, rubbing her cheek against chest.

With a contented hum, he kissed her hand. “ Ma tigresse gets thirty-two presents today.”

Sunlight spilled into their Los Angeles bedroom. The smell of Marco’s breakfast was tempting, but she didn’t want to move.

“Thirty-three, you mean,” she said, weaving her fingers through his. “Can’t forget the anniversary gift.”

“One for each year, that brings it to thirty-six,” Sever pointed out. “Guess I’d better start shopping.”

She touched his two rings: one, a perfectly respectable wedding band. The other, a keyring that had been resized and dipped in white gold. “I wonder if there’s a three year gift. You know, like tin for ten?”

“There is. Leather, pearls, and sunflowers.”

“Huh?” She looked up at him. “How do you know that?”

“Andy.” Their shopper.

“Are you sure that’s what it is?” Skeptical, she said, “That’s way too on the nose.”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

“Well, I look forward to my pearly, leather sunflowers.”

“Now you’ve ruined the surprise,” he said drily. “I hope you’re happy.”

Circling a fingertip over his bullet scar, she said, “I’ve never been happier.”

He craned his neck to see her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Life with you is non-stop adventure. You’re an adventure. You’re fun, and smart, you make me laugh, you’re a hopeless romantic… You’re all I want in this world.”

Running his knuckles over her cheek, he gave her an adoring smile, and whispered, “You forgot ‘great in bed’.”

“Oh, my god.” She got up and smacked him with a pillow as he laughed. “You know I suck at romantic declarations! That was pretty good!”

He caught her by the waist and pulled her close. “It was perfect.”

“Sever? Stop taking pictures and zip me up.” He’d become obsessed with taking photos of her, particularly in the nude, but also when her back was exposed.

“But I’m a proud Daddy.” He ran a finger down her spine, making her quiver, and zipped.

“Bad Daddy,” she said. “Don’t mess up my hair.”

He stopped sniffing it. “I want to play with Dolly.”

“Dolly isn’t here right now. You’ll have to play with yourself.” She turned around. “Let’s see you.”

Sever stood back, presenting himself. “Do I pass the arm candy test?”

“Yum.” She said with a sensual pout, “My little trophy husband.”

“I hope you mean ‘big’.”

“ So big.” She took a deep breath in. “Shall we?”

Seated beside her at a banquet table, Sever said, “Nerves?”

Ivy shook her head. “Not a single one.”

“...welcome our guest of honor, the CEO of Zeitgeist International, Ivy Tyler-Mark.”

Sever gave her a proud grin.

“How do I look?” she asked him.

“Like power,” he said.

It was the best thing he could have said.

She had a speech prepared. She’d worked on it for weeks, subjecting Sever to rehearsals until she memorized every word. But when she arrived at the podium, she was inspired to ditch it.

Ivy looked out at the crowd, and went with what she felt.

“My mother always told me I was powerful. That I would make a mark.” She gestured toward Sever with a tilt of her head. “Not that one. I couldn’t make him do anything if I tried.”

The room laughed, and so did he. Knowing she was off script, he looked surprised, and intrigued to hear more.

“Power gets a bad rap. In a world of dictators, abusers, billionaires starving for attention on social media...” She gestured at Sever again with a snide, “Also not that one. He asked me what an Instagram was last week.” Another wave of laughter. Sever leaned back against the table, basking in her glow.

“We tend to think of power as an inevitable path to corruption. Here in the nonprofit space, we’re all about empowerment—the internal strength we tap into to help us overcome obstacles. It’s a huge part of what we do. But power—that’s different. That’s control over others. It makes us think of crooked institutions, or evil corporations.” She gave Sever a sheepish shrug, “Sorry, honey.”

That one slayed.

“So, what does this have to do with an art foundation?”

She had their rapt attention.

“In the last three years, my colleagues and I have had to fight to keep support for visual arts alive around the world. To make it accessible to everyone. To empower people with the ability to create visual art, and for that art to be seen. Contrary to popular belief, money doesn’t always talk. Old, outdated, classist systems are near impossible to change. The exclusivity of the art world is palpable. Museums are not a welcoming space for everyone. People are taught that creative expression isn’t valid or helpful.” She put her hands on the podium. “So if you can’t throw money at it, what do you do?”

She let that sit for a moment.

“You use your power,” she said. “Your influence. You convince others to fight alongside you. You don’t control people , you control the conversation. And if you’re lucky, you control the outcome.”

“Power isn’t bad. Power is what we make of it. And if you wield it right, power can change the world.”

Sever was watching her with a new look in his eyes. Not just pride. Not just love. Not just respect.

He was in awe.

“So, let’s use it. Let’s own it. Let’s make our mark,” she said, eyes on Sever’s. “Together.”

The End