by HELEN HARDT
“I find it hard to believe, Skye, that you didn’t check your email. Email is part of your livelihood these days.”
“Well, I didn’t,” I say flatly. “My phone was dead.”
“And you couldn’t find a charger somewhere?”
He isn’t wrong. “I didn’t think about it.”
“I see.” He nods, his lips trembling slightly, as if he’s trying not to smile. “Where have you been?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I told you. I had dinner with Tessa.”
“For four and a half hours?”
“What if I did?”
“Then you’d be lying,” he says, still not rising.
Even as he’s seated on my couch, his presence fills the room. Though I’m looking down at him, I feel as though I’m tiny in comparison.
“If you insist on knowing my whereabouts, I was at a club.”
“You hate clubs.”
“Tessa talked me into it.”
That gets a laugh out of him. A sarcastic, scoffing laugh. “If Tessa hasn’t talked you into clubbing by now, she never will.”
“Okay, I decided on my own.”
“Why are you lying to me?” he asks.
“I’m not. I decided to go on my own.”
“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. You first said Tessa talked you into it, and you and I both know no one talks you into anything. Fuck it all, I should know.”
He’s right. I should not have lied. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? Not checking your email or lying to me?”
“Both, I guess, but more for lying.”
“What am I going to do with you?” he says, his voice dark.
I smile in an attempt to lighten the situation. “Whatever you want?”
“That is certainly tempting.” He uncrosses his legs, letting his knees part.
His bulge is apparent. I’m not sure how he kept his legs crossed as long as he did. Must’ve been uncomfortable.
My body quivers. His presence—just his presence—sends me into a tailspin. Yeah, I’m angry. Angry that he didn’t text me back. Do I have that right? He did respond, and if my phone had been on, I probably would’ve seen the email in enough time to come back here and meet him at nine.
This is my fault. No one’s fault but my own. I resisted charging the phone to avoid temptation.
No, that’s a lie.
I resisted charging my phone to avoid being controlled by Braden.
And I need to tell him that.
I clear my throat. “I didn’t find a charger, Braden. On purpose. So I wouldn’t get a text if you texted me back.”
“I see. So if I had texted you instead of emailing you, we’d still be sitting here in the same situation.”
I nod. “Yes, except that I would’ve seen your text when I plugged my phone in during my Uber ride home.”
His lips curl upward into that semi-smile that drives me into a frenzy. “So you charged your phone, and your first thought was that I hadn’t responded to your text.”
I nod again, this time numbly.
The smile stays on his face. He knows he got to me, and damned if he’s not happy as a clam about it.
“You look very pleased with yourself,” I can’t help saying.
“I’m usually pleased with myself. Surely you know that by now.”
Touché. I’m not sure what to say to that.
“Perhaps now you have an inkling of how you make me feel on the daily,” he says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You fight me at every turn,” he says. “I almost wish I hadn’t emailed you back at all. It would serve you right.”
Tension coils through me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you attempted to manipulate me, Skye, and you already know I don’t take kindly to that.”
“I did not try to manipulate you.”
“Oh? And exactly what do you call deliberately not charging your phone so you wouldn’t see whether I responded to you?”
“That’s not manipulation, Braden. That’s me controlling my own life.”
“That’s not control, Skye. If you don’t want to respond to a text or an email, then don’t respond to a text or an email. That is control. Keeping your phone dead to avoid responding to me? That is manipulation.”
I open my mouth, but no words come out. What can I say? He’s absolutely right. If I had any control where Braden is concerned, I wouldn’t need to turn off my phone. And now he’s got me right where he wants me.
I can’t help a sarcastic laugh. “Funny. Okay, let’s say you’re right. Let’s say I did manipulate you, or at least attempted to. What do you think you do to me every day? This almost sadistic need you have for control? I gave it to you. I gave it to you in the bedroom. But that isn’t enough for you. You want it over every aspect of my life. If that’s not manipulation, tell me what is.”
He stands now, his bulge still apparent. He’s turned on, and frankly, so am I. His very presence turns me on, his controlling nature turns me on, and the sight of his cock hard for me really turns me on.
“Manipulation, Skye, is skillfully controlling someone or something.”
“I can’t argue with your definition,” I say. “And only one of us is a master of control here.”
He laughs. Really laughs. “If I were the master of control you seem to think I am, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“But you are, Braden. Why do you think I didn’t find a charger?”
“I know exactly why,” he says, grabbing my hair and forcing my head back. “Don’t attempt to manipulate me again, Skye. You won’t like the result.”
His lips come down on mine.
Chapter Eighteen
I keep my lips glued together.
Why not? Braden will force them open, probe his tongue at the seam, and eventually I will succumb. I know this, and so does he.
Except he doesn’t probe. He simply slides his lips over mine, and he doesn’t attempt to coax them open.
Now who’s manipulating whom?
I chuckle inside my mind at the inevitable answer to my own question.
By keeping my lips glued shut, I’m manipulating him. Because I want this kiss as much as he does. And I know he knows that.
My action is no different from denying myself an orgasm against his kitchen island or turning off my phone so I won’t see his texts.
I’m manipulating him into thinking he doesn’t control me.
Why not accept the kiss? Why not let it lead to the inevitable lovemaking we both desire?
We’re here in my apartment. I don’t have any leather bindings or floggers or butt plugs. Only vanilla sex here. Yet I’m resisting it.
You are a challenge, Skye.
I can almost hear the words coming from Braden, even though his lips are still pressed to mine, giving me short, sweet pecks that are setting my loins on fire.
He trails tiny kisses across my jawline into my ear. He nips at the lobe. “Stop it,” he whispers harshly. “Stop denying yourself.”
His words ring so very true. Just as I denied myself that orgasm, just as I denied myself an evening with Braden tonight, I’m now denying myself this kiss and where it may lead. Is my control worth giving up pleasures?
“Fuck it,” I say out loud. I cup both his stubbled cheeks and lead his lips back to mine.
This time I open, and I take the lead. I slide my lips over his, swirl my tongue around his, savor the delicious taste of him.
Why deny myself?
No longer, at least for tonight. If I weren’t so obsessed with my own control, we’d have already made love several times tonight, and I could’ve saved myself two agonizing hours at a club.
He breaks t
he kiss with a loud pop of suction and burns his gaze into mine. “I ought to smack your ass until it’s cherry red.”
Oh, hell no. Except… Oh, hell yes. Ambivalence whirls through me. I enjoyed that spanking he gave me. I didn’t think I would, but God, I did. I long to experience the sensation again—his palm coming down on my ass, the pleasure-pain erupting in my body.
“Make no mistake, Skye,” he continues, his voice a husky timbre. “Pull a stunt like this again, and I’ll leave your ass raw. You’ll be wishing I only denied you an orgasm.”
The thought both frightens and inebriates me. How far am I willing to go toward Braden’s darker side?
What did he do to Addie that left her shaken? What did she refuse to do that led to their breakup?
I swiftly erase those thoughts from my mind. I’m ripe and wet and my entire body’s an inferno. I want Braden. I’m ready for whatever he gives me.
“Get undressed,” he commands. “Then wait for me on the bed with your legs spread.”
I don’t even consider disobeying. My blouse, jeans, and wedge sandals are off nearly instantly. Then my panties and bra. My breasts are already flushed a rosy pink, and my nipples are hard and tight. I walk to the bed, lie down, and spread my legs wide open.
Braden turns and stares at me. “You are lovely to look at. Honestly, Skye, sometimes just looking at you is enough for me.”
His words arrow straight to my heart. This is why I love him. This is why I love Braden Black. Because of these moments, like the moment when I took my last photo for the Cherry Russet lip stain. I was wrapped in a sheet and standing at Braden’s floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Boston Harbor. He took the photo and told me how beautiful I looked. Or when I woke up and found the earrings he left me, something he bought only because he knew I’d like them and that they’d look good on me.
Braden may be all about control, but he’s also a romantic at heart.
And he loves me. Boston’s richest and most eligible bachelor is in love with me.
He gazes at me for a few more timeless moments before he stalks toward the bed.
“You are delectable,” he says. “I’d love to dive between your legs right now, eat you until you’re begging me to stop. Or just stuff my cock inside your pussy and take you hard and fast. Or turn you over, lick your asshole, and then fuck you from behind. You’d enjoy all those things, wouldn’t you, Skye?”
“God, yes.”
“So would I. But you do have to be punished for attempting to manipulate me this evening. The problem is, I’m not in the mood to punish myself.”
“Fuck my mouth,” I say.
The left side of his lips quirks up into a half smile. “I’ve given that some thought, believe me.”
“Why are you thinking when you could be doing?”
“Because I have something else in mind for tonight. Something new.”
I’m awash in nerves. What new thing could he try in my apartment? I don’t have any of his toys. I don’t even have a blindfold, and he’s not wearing a tie.
He undresses slowly. Slowly and deliberately. Too damned slowly. He folds each piece of clothing neatly and sets it on a chair. He’s never done that before. He either throws it on a chair or lets it fall to the floor. Now, whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it very deliberately.
I salivate as inch by gorgeous inch of him becomes visible. When he finally stands before me, completely naked and beautiful, I’m so hot, I could incinerate.
He straddles me a moment, sliding his cock head through my slick folds.
“So wet, Skye,” he says.
I close my eyes, taking fistfuls of my comforter and waiting for him to thrust into me. I’m so empty. So needy and aching. Take me, Braden. Please.
But the thrust I expect doesn’t come, and I open my eyes.
Instead of fucking me, Braden is masturbating. Fucking masturbating as he stares at me, his gaze locking with mine.
“Wouldn’t you rather be doing that inside me?” I say.
“Of course I would,” he says, “but I have a very vivid imagination.”
I squeeze the covers in my fists again. This is my punishment. I have to watch him get off, while I get nothing. I’m here solely as a visual stimulation for him. He may as well be watching porn.
Fuck! My nipples are straining, and my clit is throbbing in time with Braden’s jerks. My hips are moving of their own accord, and I force them to stop. I don’t want to help him along any more than I already am just by being here naked.
“I can feel the inside of your pussy,” he says. “So tight and warm.”
Can he? Can he really? Because I can’t feel anything inside me, and I desperately want to.
“You’re so hot, Skye.” He increases his tempo. “So hot, so sweet, so tight.”
“Damn it, Braden!” I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Oh, no,” he says. “You don’t get off that easily. Open your fucking eyes.”
Don’t. Just don’t do it.
But I do. Not only because it’s in the bedroom and I gave him my control long ago, but also because I truly want to watch. I want to see him pleasure his beautiful body. I want to see the come spurt out of him. I want to see the look on his face as he cries my name.
Perspiration glistens on his forehead, groans emanate from his throat, and he bites on his lower lip.
“Fuck, Skye. Fuck.” He’s jerking rapidly now, and— “Skye!” He releases, and his white fluid slides onto my abdomen.
He’s panting now, finally closing his own eyes and letting go. Absently, I touch my abdomen and rub his come into my belly as if it’s lotion.
Is this truly all I will get of him tonight? Or will he take pity on me?
No, he won’t. Braden doesn’t take pity on anyone. Least of all someone who spent the evening manipulating him.
This is my true punishment. I watched this beautiful man pleasure himself, and I got hotter than imaginable. And now?
Nothing.
“That’s sexy,” he says, still a bit out of breath. “The way you rub it on yourself.”
I say nothing. Simply let my hand drift upward to my breast. My nipple aches for touch, so I give it a little pinch. I’m so needy that I let out a moan and lift my hips at that simple subtle contact.
“Nipples need some attention?” he asks.
“Yes. Please.” I don’t even care how desperate I sound. At the moment, I’ll give my next breath of oxygen for Braden’s lips around one nipple.
He lowers himself, his dark-pink lips coming closer, closer, closer…
Then he darts out his tongue and licks my right nipple.
I squirm beneath, arching my back, looking for more.
But Braden rolls over on my bed, his back to me.
“I never took you for a tease,” I say.
“I’m not teasing you, and you know it.”
Yes, I know it. This is punishment, pure and simple. Which I know I deserve.
I turn my head and regard his bare back, so tanned and strong, the muscles flexing lightly as he breathes.
And I wonder…
Can two play this game?
If so, do I even have what it takes?
Chapter Nineteen
Braden wakes before I do Saturday morning. The sound of the shower rouses me, and I rise and don my bathrobe. I washed up last night, but I’m tempted to join him in the shower. I resist. Instead, I pour a cup from the pot of coffee he made and take a sip.
Nicely done. He makes better coffee than I do, which is surprising given someone else makes his coffee at home. Why is he up so early, anyway? It’s Saturday. Saturdays are supposed to be lazy. We should be in bed making slow, sweet love.
Is he still angry?
Why should he be? He already punished me. I had to fall asleep last night with the female equivalent
of a hard-on. I considered masturbating, but I’ve never had any luck doing that, and besides, I kind of felt like it would be…disobeying him. Which shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did.
I flash back to the evening a couple of weeks ago when I tried to re-create my first orgasm with Braden by using a vibrator. That vibrator still hid in my top dresser drawer, along with a couple of other toys.
Again, temptation. But Braden will be out of the shower soon. What will he think if he finds me lying naked on the bed masturbating?
Don’t, Skye. You gave him control in the bedroom.
But I can’t resist. I grab the vibrator out of the top dresser drawer and settle on my bed. I pinch my nipples lightly to start my body’s motor. It doesn’t take too long, especially since I was left wanting last night.
I moisten the tip of the vibrator in my mouth and then trail it over my abdomen and down to my pussy. It slips in easily even though I’m tight. How did I get wet so quickly?
It feels nice, but it’s not Braden. I know already I won’t be able to force an orgasm. For some reason, Braden’s presence is required for that feat. I can put on an act, though. I can pretend I’m coming when he walks out of my bathroom.
I pull the vibrator out of my pussy and toss it on the other side of the bed.
He’ll know. Braden will know if I’m faking. How he knows? I have no clue. But he will.
The door to my bathroom opens, and Braden steps out wearing nothing but one of my best towels around his waist. His hair is wet and slicked back, and he looks absolutely scrumptious.
He darts his gaze to the hot-pink toy on my bed. He cocks his head. “Having fun without me?”
“I gave it some thought,” I say, “but it wasn’t working for me.”
He walks over and picks up the vibrator, brings it to his nose, and sniffs it. “This has been inside you.”
“For a hot second, yeah.”
“Why didn’t you finish?”
Because I can’t. I can’t come without you, and you know it. I gave you control over this part of me.
“Because…I guess I’m just not in the mood.”
His gaze darkens. “You’re lying naked on the bed, your nipples are erect, and your body is flushed warm pink.”