by Lynn Marie
He licked his lips in anticipation of tasting her as he pushed her against the counter. He just wanted to forget all this town business and lose himself in her. But he had to calm down a little first, or else he might get caught up. She was probably more than a little sore and he didn’t want to be too rough.
“I’m not kidding. You’d look beautiful in anything, or nothing. Especially in nothing.”
She bit her lower lip and tilted her head up to receive his kiss. “You’re just trying to get lucky,” she murmured, staring at his lips through half-lowered lids.
Sliding his hand into her slightly damp curls, he inhaled the fruity scent of her shampoo, mixed with the heady scent of her budding arousal. He cupped her cheek and held her still while he brushed her mouth with his. She made a throaty noise and he had to ball his free hand into a fist to keep it from wandering. This was a PG-13 movie, for now.
She pulled back first and smiled. He traced her lips with his fingertip. “After dinner, you’re mine.”
They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Literally. As she arranged the pasta and sauce into two bowls, he dipped his fingers into the waistline of her pants. As he set the table, she ran her hand down his back to the base of his spine. He wanted to sit her in his lap and feed her with his own hands, which was a new instinct for him—probably a bonded mate thing. He wanted her sated, happy. Full in more ways than one…
“Tell me about the town,” she said, once they were settled on opposite sides of the table. It felt goddamn ridiculous to be sitting at polar opposites of her table, but he tolerated it. He’d have her underneath him soon enough.
Michael blew on a forkful of the chicken and pasta with some kind of butter and herb sauce (which was excellent) before shoveling it in his mouth. “Anything in particular you want to know?”
“Well, I admit that I heard some of what you were saying out there earlier with those women.”
He tensed, but there was no judgment in her voice. She seemed just genuinely curious about what she’d heard as opposed to the other townies, who probably would have delighted in overhearing some of the town elders putting him down like that. Brock, for one. He also had to give her props for immediately copping to listening in. She clearly didn’t bullshit people.
“What did you hear?”
She cast her eyes down to sift through her bowl with her spoon. “Well, something about your father and a new community center.”
He nearly winced. “All of it, then.”
Her eyes lifted to meet his and she half-smiled mirthlessly. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I saw your truck pull up and went to the window to call to you, and I just… heard. Those women weren’t exactly using inside voices.”
“Once you reach a certain age in this town, you have one volume: loud,” he chuckled. “All right, well, my father used to be the leader of this town before he passed, and I suppose you could say that I was next in line. It’s been… a challenge to get everyone behind me and some of my ideas. They don’t seem to think I’ll measure up to him. Hell, I’m not sure I’ll measure up.”
“It sounds like he was a great man,” she said gravely.
“He was.”
“Still… every man and every leader is different. You don’t have to be just like him in order to be effective.”
The words sounded vaguely familiar—like something his mother had tried to convince him more than once—but were especially comforting coming from her. Maybe it was because she was his mate, and maybe it was because she was more impartial than his mother, but it was like a literal weight off his shoulders, as he felt himself relax a little. Somehow Evelyn had managed to say exactly what he needed to hear…
“I made some mistakes when I was younger because I was stupid and resentful. I’m trying to prove to them that I’m not like that anymore, but I’m starting to wonder if that’s even possible. I just don’t know what they want from me—what they want me to be.”
She looked thoughtful. “What does it mean to be in charge? Does it have to do with those town meetings?“
He nodded, grateful she’d followed up with another question so he didn’t have to lie. Leading the town meetings was only half of it. “I’d be foreman at the meetings, which are kind of like our local government. Everyone gets a say in how decisions are made around here. The foreman has the final say, but he always takes everyone’s opinions into consideration.”
“I’m sure everyone loves that sense of community and having a direct influence in what happens. Did they get any say in this community center?”
“I wouldn’t build a community center without the community behind me,” he said, a bit defensively.
“Of course not, and I’m not saying they don’t want it, but if you’re building it and you’re funding it… it might as well say Blackwood on it, not Pottsville.”
“You think they care where the money comes from?”
She shrugged one shoulder and spun her fork to twirl some pasta onto it. “I could be wrong—you’d certainly know better—but from what I can tell, these people are salt of the earth. They work hard and they’re proud of it.”
“I guess I don’t see why a leader wouldn’t just fix everything that needed fixing. We’ve got all this money from the hardware store and a lot of these people have had a hard couple of years.”
“I actually know this one,” she said with a little laugh. “I took a psychology of leadership class once. Fixing things for someone all the time isn’t leading, it’s babying. It comes from a good place, I’m sure—you love this town, so of course you want to improve it if you have the means and not everyone else here does. But no one with pride wants to feel like they’re getting a handout. Leading is giving people the tools to help them help themselves.”
Michael stared at her, hard, for long enough to make her blush and fidget. “You know, for an outsider, you’ve got a pretty good grasp of the way things work around here.”
She finished chewing her bite before she spoke again. “Sometimes it’s easier to see things from the outside. I like that you care so much.”
“So what do you think I should do?”
“Not sure… put it to a vote and then let the town raise the money?”
He couldn’t contain his grin. “What if they can’t raise enough?”
She started chewing on her lip in concentration and he was instantly hard. He wanted that lip between his teeth. He wanted his tongue in her mouth. He wanted her tongue on the underside of his cock…
“Offer to match the donations, maybe?”
The wheels started turning. “Yeah. Or offer an incentive to business owners, like advertising in the center somewhere.”
“That could work, too. I’ll donate.”
“That’s a good idea, Evelyn.”
She smiled. “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m pretty smart.”
“Among other things,” his voice had dropped, along with his gaze. He watched as her chest swelled with a sharp intake of breath.
The scent of her arousal filled the air, responding to the tone of his voice. They weren’t finished with their meals, though, and he wanted her to keep her strength up for what he had planned. He couldn’t wait to play with her.
He changed the subject. “And you were right. You’re an excellent cook. What was that sauce?”
“Sage and browned butter. Did you like it?”
“I loved it. Delicious.”
“Ready for dessert?” This time, the tone of her voice sent him reeling.
“Oh, Evelyn, you have no idea.”
Her eyes flashed and the velvety smell of her wetness intensified.
All right. Enough of these innuendos. Time to peel off those skinny jeans and taste his dessert. He stood, visions of her naked body spread before him, and felt himself hardening. She stood too, but her eyes were on something next to him. She held out her hand and he realized, a little sheepishly, that she wanted his dirty bowl.
After he handed it over,
she brought them to the sink and started washing. “I stole some ice cream from down in the shop.”
He watched for a second, struck dumb and mesmerized by the sight of her in the sink. Maybe it was a little fucked up and misogynistic of him, but the sight of his female at the sink was getting him all kinds of hot and bothered. Oh, what he’d like to do to her bent over that sink…
“I don’t want ice cream.”
Her lips quirked up. “Now who’s ending a date prematurely?”
He couldn’t stand it anymore. The opening she’d given him was too sweet to pass up. He approached silently, stalking his prey as her back was to him and she was totally unaware of the imminent danger. And oh, she was in for it. “Tell me something, Evelyn,” he said, coming against her and slipping his hand around her waist. He splayed his hand across her lower stomach and smiled against her hair when he heard her needy gasp.
She gulped. “Hmm?”
“Why did you leave this morning? Alone and covered in hay is no way for a man to wake up.”
A husky laugh spilled from her mouth, but it was brief as she caught her lip between her teeth again. She let her head fall against his chest and he could guess that her eyes were closed. The minx was rubbing that delicious little ass against the front of his pants. He pulled her back flush against him.
“It wasn’t very nice,” he murmured. With one hand wrapped firmly around her, he was free to explore the curve of her body with his other—which he did, slowly. She gripped his imprisoning arm with both hands, holding on. He lingered on the side of her breast.
She was panting now. “I’m, uh…”
“Yes?” he prompted, skimming the flare of her hips with his fingers and moving down to the juncture of her thighs.
“Oh God,” she moaned as he brushed her sex through her jeans.
Though he was rather fond of skinny jeans, his mate was wearing too many clothes and if she didn’t fix the situation soon, he was going to rip them to shreds. “I believe the words you’re looking for are ‘I’m sorry,’” he chuckled.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted.
“Now,” he began, enjoying himself immensely, “that wasn’t a very convincing apology. And you were extremely naughty yesterday. Know what I think?”
He could practically feel her clit pulsing. “What?” she managed, holding his arm so hard she was going to leave eight little, crescent-shaped marks.
“I think naughty girls ought to be taught a lesson.”
She cried out and he nearly lost his control. She was so ready, so needy…
“Please tell me your bed is four-poster.”
Chapter 6
Her knees weakened and she felt her panties soak through. The thought of being tied down, helpless to his roaming hands and eyes… to the pleasure he inflicted…
She laughed breathlessly and nodded.
“Good.”
Abruptly, he spun her in his arms. She grabbed his shirt, balling it in both hands as he clasped the back of her head and claimed her mouth possessively, grinding his lips against hers. She arched against him, moaning as his tongue darted into her mouth. His kiss was just as she remembered it. They warred, fighting for something carnal. When she grasped the bottom of his shirt to tug it upwards, he stopped her with a hand around her wrist.
“I want you naked, Evelyn. Go to the bedroom, undressing as you go.”
Electricity shot throughout her nether-regions. She couldn’t wait to see what kind of punishment he had in mind. And she loved the sound of that order from him, mostly because of the desire behind it. His eyes were intense and he looked like a man starved. He wanted to see her and, strangely, she wanted him to see her. Body issues notwithstanding… But it was twilight and the low-wattage lamps in her apartment were gentle.
She stood and unbuttoned the top of her jeans. She watched his eyelids drop until he was focused solely on the fly she was undoing. Playfully, she turned around and flicked off her shoes in his general direction. Feeling more like a siren than she ever had, she slowly bent down, bringing her jeans down with her.
Mindful of his gaze burning holes in her ass, she yanked her shirt over her head. Then, in only her bra and panties, she sauntered towards her room. When she was at the doorway, she paused, leaning against the knob. “Well?” she asked, batting her eyelashes. It took him, like, a millisecond to respond.
Suddenly exhilarated by the sight of him striding purposefully her way and totally amped to find out what he’d meant earlier, she ducked into the room and stepped around the other side of her bed. She wanted to run, she wanted him to chase her, and she wanted him to catch her.
“Come here, female,” he ordered, pointing to the ground in front of him.
She didn’t move. “What are you going to do?”
His brow lowered. “Come here, Evelyn.”
Her head shook from side to side, and she never took her eyes off his. God, he was so handsome. “Answer the question.”
“I’m going to punish you,” he reminded her in a low voice, an erotic promise.
A breath caught in her throat as more blood rushed to her sex, causing it to throb and pulse. Oh, she so could not wait. When he lunged around the bed, she leapt up with a shriek of laughter, scattering her pillows. He caught her around the knees on the bed and dragged her down and towards him. As she went down, she erupted in giggles. Anticipation swelled in her veins and she was panting by the time he had her in his lap.
He was now wearing an anticipatory smile and she caught sight of one of the scarves that she’d thrown over a lamp to give the room ambience. The innocent purple silk had never looked more erotic. “Give me your hands,” he commanded.
She gulped.
“Do you trust me?” he asked suddenly, but it was mostly rhetorical. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She stopped for a second to think, and realized that her trust in him was nearly fundamental, and had been ever since the beginning—she never would have come this far with him and willingly submitted to his reprimand. So, yes, she trusted him. She trusted him to stop if she asked him to, and she trusted him to give her the kind of pleasure she’d had during both of their sexual encounters. Even so, she realized that she needed to maintain some semblance of control. She wasn’t ready to give herself over completely.
Being naked and tied was so much more than just being naked. It was being totally bare.
“Could we save the tying up for another time?”
With a small nod, he tossed the scarf back on her bedside table. Then, before she realized what he was doing, he flipped her so she lay across his lap. He sat back on the bed far enough that she could steady herself, but her legs dangled off the edge.
“Michael, what… are you going to do?” she whispered. But she knew.
“I hope you’re not fond of these,” he said, hooking his finger through the side of her panties. A quick tug with both hands tore right through them and she gasped. Sure, they were little more than lace, but it wasn’t like it was easy to tear them.
When her panties were trash on the floor, he rubbed the revealed bare skin and Evelyn shivered against the sensation of his rough palm on her sensitive ass.
“God, this ass is so fucking edible,” he said appreciatively. “I’ve wanted to do this all day.”
He rubbed her in circles, warming her skin and making her drip with anticipation. Then, in an instant his hand disappeared, only to come cracking down. She jumped and winced a little, but the pain was gone as soon as it came. And he went back to rubbing her.
“Count them,” he instructed.
She squirmed uncomfortably for a couple of reasons. Getting spanked was many things… embarrassing, exciting, painful, erotic… how could one simple act stimulate so many warring emotions? Mostly, right now, it was embarrassing. She felt so exposed.
And yet… all those tightly coiled muscles in his arms bespoke to the power he could have put behind that smack. And, really it hadn’t hurt that bad…
“One,
” she said, squeezing her eyes closed and splaying her fingers against the bedspread.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, and it sounded almost like he was saying it more to himself than her. “Your skin is so soft.”
It was the reverence in his voice that made the moment turn from embarrassment at being lain across his lap like a naughty four year old to adult pleasure at being “scolded” by a hot, sexually-domineering beast of a man. He really was enjoying himself. He really thought she was beautiful and that her skin was soft.
And… to tell the truth, the teasing torture of his rough, warm hands on her soft skin was amazing. The knowledge that his fingers were mere inches from her core—and that he wasn’t touching it, but could if he wanted—well, it was fucking hot.
The next time his hand came down, she let out a little cry that turned into a moan.
“Two,” she breathed. Her hands contracted and she balled the bedspread in her fists. Her breaths were ragged pants.
“Three… four… five, ah!” Her backside was scalding and she could imagine how pink the skin was probably getting. His hand smoothed soothingly over her heating skin. She was so wet it was practically dripping down her leg.
“Six… seven… Oh God, Michael—”
“Keep counting. Three more.”
“Eight… nine… ten,” she barely managed, gasping as his last blow ended with him slipping two fingers between the drenched folds of her pussy. She nearly wept with relief. She needed to be touched so badly.
“Michael,” she cried as he rubbed his index and middle finger on either side of her clitoris. It made her whole body jolt. The spanking had made her skin come alive and she was more sensitive than ever.
“I can’t wait to fuck you, Evelyn,” he purred. “Did you learn your lesson?” He asked it like he hoped she hadn’t.
Well, that made two of them.
“For now,” she countered.
She could hear the smile in his voice, “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear it.”
He continued stroking along the sides of her clitoris, denying her direct contact to the stiff bundle of nerves at her very center. She whimpered and squirmed, but he was carefully avoiding it. “Michael,” she cried out, exasperated.