“Pretty sure of yourself.” My voice is low and throaty.
“Indeed.” He smiles and touches me with his index finger, tracing it down my arm to my hand. But instead of grasping my fingers, he raises his hand and cups my cheek for a second. Just a touch, but the brief contact has me on fire.
I bite my lip. “Dane.”
“What if I asked you to call me Master Dane right now?” He raises a brow.
“And I’d do that because… why exactly?”
“Because…” He puts his mouth right to my ear, and I whimper at the touch. He whispers, his voice rough, his lips tickling my skin and sending wild sparks to my nipples and core, “Because you want me to take charge of your sweet body, and show you what pleasure awaits. Because you want to close your eyes right now and feel my mouth, and my hands… and more. To lie back and let me bring you bliss. To obey me, because it’s going to turn you on too. Don’t you?”
He trails his lips across my jaw, down my neck, finding the most sensitive spots and licking, biting, soft, sharp, in turn.
I suck in my breath. My eyes are already shut, my lashes fluttering on my cheeks, and all I want is more.
“Or maybe you want to take charge yourself,” he suggests. “You call the shots. Is that what you want?” He bites down on my neck, harder. “You wanna tell me what to do?”
I moan. Images: Me telling him to undress. Him obeying, eyes on me the whole time, that little knowing smirk on his face. Then him taking me into his arms, tossing me to the bed, hovering over me, those dark eyes piercing me as I want…
“Tell me,” he orders, his voice dark and warm, danger and caramel.
“Yes,” I whisper, letting my head drop back to rest on the cushion, offering up more of my neck, my chest, myself to him, the gesture my answer, my offer. Take me. Own me.
“Yes what?” He rests his hands on my shoulders, then gently moves them down, inch by inch, palms flat, fingers outstretched, soft.
“Yes, I want that.”
“What do you want?” His hands have reached my breasts, and he gently pinches my nipples. He teases me, and I push my chest up into his hands to get more contact. He laughs and obliges me, running his hands under my shirt to get closer contact, although my lacy bra is still between us.
I suck in a breath. “What you said. About you... being in control.”
“You want me to be in charge again?” He licks my neck once, then bites.
I suck in my breath and nod. “Yes.”
“Good. Because that’s how I like it, too.” He pinches my nipples and I squeak, my eyes flying open to meet his, which gleam with passion. He raises a brow. “If you don’t obey, I’ll punish you.” But the grin, that soft, wicked smile, that comes over his face, lets me know it will be a most pleasurable form of discipline. If the expression wasn’t enough, his fingers, soft now, teasing and tweaking my nipples, are telling the story of passion, and I want him skin on skin.
“Oh, and how will you do that?” All I can think about is getting my clothes off. His, too.
“You’ll find out,” he promises. “Bad girls usually get spanked, but for such a feisty girl, I have a feeling I’ll need to get creative.”
“Oh, surely I don’t deserve a spanking,” I breathe, the thought making me wet. I can feel moisture between my thighs, and I shift my stance, needing his touch.
He laughs. “Oh, I’m sure you do,” he corrects me. “And I’d be more than glad to administer it.”
“And you think that would make me better behaved?” I push into his hands again.
“Probably not, which is why I’ll have to do it again. And again. Until you learn your lesson,” he whispers, biting my earlobe and moving his hands to my ass, squeezing. “Your pain will be my pleasure, babe.”
Chapter Nineteen
Talia
That makes me want him all the more; the perverse suggestion is enough to make me even wetter. “I had no idea that construction company CEOs were so kinky,” I whisper, letting my hand drop lower to touch his waist, pressing into his muscular ridges.
He moves under my hand and groans. “It’s a secret.”
“This isn’t so secret at all.” I stroke his cock through his pants. It’s hard, iron, already straining against the fabric, and I catch my breath at his size. He’s endowed in a way most women could only dream of. Even though I’ve had him before, my body aches to feel him again.
“Tell me your secrets,” he whispers, lowering his hand as well to press the front of my mound. “Tell me what you desire, what you love.” He stands up and offers me a hand.
I take it, and rise.
“Tell you? Maybe I’ll make you work for the answers,” I say, and squeal when he swats my ass, one hard crack with the flat of his palm. “Ouch.”
“That’s what you get when you don’t listen,” he murmurs, and strokes the spot where he spanked me, soothing the tingle. “Do I have to do it again?”
We’re pressing our bodies together now, hips against each other, and his hard length pushes into my belly. His hands—God, those hands! He runs them over my ass, my back, then up under my shirt to stroke my bare skin. He slides them down the back waistband of my jeans and I lean into him with assent, wanting his touch. There. Everywhere.
“Maybe you do,” I suggest. “But it might work better with my clothes off.”
“A very clever suggestion.” He pulls me against him, both hands firm on my ass. “If you ask the right way.”
“The right way?” I reach up to bite his neck. “And which way is that?”
“Maybe I’ll make you work for the answer,” he responds with a laugh. “Make you wait. Make you crazy. Don’t forget I’ll have you begging before the night is over.”
‘You said five minutes,” I remind him. “I’m not even asking at this point.” I’m close though. I want to entreat him to please, please, throw me down and fuck me.
“That’s how you want to play it?” He chuckles. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Then his mouth is on mine, his tongue inside, stroking and teasing, and the sudden surge of desire makes me weak. He’s got me, though, and it’s almost like he expected me to lose control, because his arms tighten at the exact second I collapse into him, his mouth continuing to play with mine, his tongue flicking, teasing, exploring.
I kiss him back with all I have, enjoying his taste. He smells good, like faint sandalwood and citrus, and I want more of it, want to bury my nose in his neck—except his lips are too good to leave.
He walks backwards, arms still around me, still teasing my mouth with his tongue, and guides me into the bedroom.
“Yes?” he asks, kissing me again.
“Definitely,” I murmur.
He laughs, then sits on the edge of the bed. He barely pauses to pull me up onto his lap; I straddle him, one thigh on either side of his hips, and his hands go right to my ass, cupping it, holding it, stroking.
He unbuttons my jeans, his fingers nimble and quick, and when I feel him slide his hand down between my panties and my skin, I whimper. “Dane,” I cry out. His hand fits tightly between the fabric and my body, creating pressure automatically when he strokes me.
At the first touch of his index finger to my clit, I think I’m going to nearly come. I’m so needy and wet and his touch—it’s like sparks.
“Fuck,” I whisper, grabbing his hair and winding my fingers into it. “Yes.”
He strokes again, flicks me, then strokes, softly. I push back into him with little encouraging noises, and he increases the pressure until I’m bucking my hips, trying to ride his finger, push into it and then away to get the perfect pressure.
He stills my hips with his other hand. “No, you stay still and take what I give you,” he whispers. Then, holding me steady, he softly touches me with just the tip of his finger, over and over, until I can’t stand it.
“Please,” I whisper, my voice strained. I try to press my hips forward, but his grip is like iron, effortlessly preventi
ng me from moving.
“Please what?” There’s a smile in his voice.
“Touch me.”
“But I am touching you.” He flicks me a little harder. “See?”
I moan. “More.”
“That sounds almost like you’re begging,” he says, pushing two fingers into my wetness.
“Oh, God,” I say, my voice reverent and quivering with desire. “Yes, more, please.”
“Please…”
“Please keep touching me. Inside me too. Like that. Don’t stop.”
“I want to hear you beg.” He pulls his hand out of me entirely and slaps my ass. Through the jeans, it barely stings, but the dominance makes me weak. “Call me Master Dane and ask me to fingerfuck you to an orgasm.”
“Master Dane.” I don’t even hesitate. “Please, fingerfuck me. I want to come.”
“Is that right?” He slaps me again, harder. Again. “Lift up your ass so I can spank you better. Yeah, like that.”
I rise up on my knees, and he spanks the other cheek, once and again.
“Pull down your pants then, if you want me to touch you. Show me that pussy.” He puts his hands on my shoulders to stabilize me and I awkwardly shimmy my pants down, tugging my lacy panties down too. They only go to about mid-thigh because my legs are spread, but that’s enough for him to get a good look.
He sucks in his breath, his eyes glittering. “Fuck, Talia. Fucking gorgeous pussy.”
I revel in the praise, in his masculine appreciation. “Yes, it is. You want to touch it? Lick it? Fuck it?”
“All of that. But first you’re gonna beg me, baby.” He puts his hand back between my legs and strokes his fingers back and forth along my labia, quick short strokes. “Goddamn, you’re so wet for me.”
I try to spread my legs wider, as if to invite his touch where I really want it.
He laughs. “Talk, sweetheart. Tell me what you want, and you’ll get it.”
“You,” I gasp. “I want your touch. Put your fingers in my pussy and rub my clit.”
“Yeah?” He slides his fingers closer to my entrance. “Here?”
“Yes.” I pull at his wrist.
“Ah ah. Hands on my shoulders, and take what I give.” He reaches back and spanks me again, and I yelp. It stings so good.
I grab his strong biceps instead, pressing my fingers into his muscles. “Please. Master Dane, please.”
“Ah, that’s what I wanted to hear.” And in a second, his fingers are where I want them, need them, and he’s stroking me and swirling his touch in a way that makes me mad, literally crazy with desire.
“You’re going to ask me for permission to come, too,” he whispers, and that nearly sends me crashing into an O right there.
“What are you going to do if I don’t obey?” I gasp and twist my hips, seeking more pleasure, and he obliges, stroking harder, deeper. “Fuck, so good.”
“This.” He flips me over and pats his thighs. “Lie across my lap. I’m gonna teach you a little lesson about spying.”
And because I’m so turned on, I don’t even argue. Don’t care whether that’s fair or not. I melt into a puddle of compliance on his hard thighs and let my legs open. Breathe hard, waiting for it. Craving it.
He runs both hands over my skin and murmurs, “Someone needs to be taught what happens to bad girls who pry into corporations, Talia.” He taps me once, so lightly I can barely feel it. But the touch, skin on skin, has me whimpering.
“And that when the construction foreman says to be careful, she’ll listen. I must not have spanked you hard enough last time, because you didn’t quite learn your lesson.”
His voice is firm, almost angry, and my stomach spikes with desire and apprehension. He’s only playing with me... I think.
“Isn’t that right?” He strokes me again, and then, without warning, cracks his palm down across the middle of my cheek, hard.
The sound echoes around the room, and then I feel the impact and tingle and I cry out with surprise.
“And maybe next time”—he slaps my other cheek, just as hard, and repeats it—“you’ll be a lot more compliant.”
“I—”
“You”—he spanks me a few times—“are going to lie right here and take your spanking, bad girl.”
He presses his palm into the small of my back. “Nice and easy. Legs open for me, just like that. You’re gonna let me spank that naughty ass red.”
He slaps me again and I instinctively reach back to block the spank. “Ouch.”
“No. Give me your hands.”
When I don’t react, he taps my shoulder. “Reach back and clasp them in the small of your back. If you can’t keep yourself from touching, I’ll help you.”
He shifts to allow me room to move my arms, then he grabs both of my hands in one of his. “Now you’ll keep those fingers out of the way. Ready?”
He pauses, then spanks my ass once, again.
“Ow.” I flinch. The spanks are getting harder, and my ass burns.
“You say ow,” he muses, landing a flurry of spanks across both cheeks, making me squirm and gasp, “but look at how very wet you’re getting.”
He slaps at the base of my thighs. “I think you like your punishment.”
“Dane, it stings,” I murmur, my voice low and breathy. I shift my legs, trying to alleviate the need in my clit.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he chastises me, and gives me a few hard spanks that make me squeal. “Not until I give permission.”
“But... oooh.” I lose my breath as he stops spanking me to rub my ass, soothing my sore cheeks, and glides his fingers along my labia. “Dane. God.”
“You’re so fucking wet.” His voice is low and hoarse. “Jesus.”
He slides me to the bed and gets up. “Don’t touch that pussy or rub your ass, Talia. And keep your eyes shut.”
I obediently close my eyes and roll onto my stomach, letting the air from the fan cool my heated ass. My nipples are hard little rocks, pressing into the bedspread. I want his touch, and I writhe, moving my thighs, shifting my hips. Thinking about his lips. His cock.
I hear him shed some clothing, and then the sound of a drawer and some low clatter. “What are you doing?”
He chuckles. “You’ll find out in a minute. Keep your eyes shut like a good girl, though.”
“I’m so good. See my eyes shut?”
I roll over kick off my jeans and panties and adjust myself, spread my legs. “See... totally shut.” I widen my thighs. “Can’t see a thing…” I moan and buck my hips.
“Baby, you’re asking for trouble.”
He’s back now. “Let’s just put this on.” I flinch just a bit as he slides a blindfold over my eyes; it’s soft, but unexpected. “Can you see?”
“No.” My voice is breathy.
“Perfect.” Now take off the shirt and bra. Quickly.”
I do it as fast as I can, and when I’m naked, I take a deep breath. My nipples peak in the air, wanting his mouth.
“Lie back and put your wrists up.”
I lie back, feeling my ass tingling from the spanking. “My ass is a little sore,” I murmur.
“Good.” He takes one hand and I immediately feel the weight of a leather cuff. “I’m going to lock your wrists together. You want to stop or take them off, you tell me red.”
Chapter Twenty
Talia
“What if I don’t want you to take them off?” I give him the other hand, feel my arm get heavier as the cuff goes on. He inserts a finger between the leather and my skin.
“I don’t think you will.” He brushes his lips down my neck and I shiver. “In fact, I think you’re going to love being my sex slave, Talia.” He taps my elbows and then takes my wrists. “Up. Here.”
He does something and attaches both cuffs, and now I’m fastened to the headboard. “You okay?”
I test my boundaries. I can’t move far, but nothing hurts. “Yes.”
“Then let’s get started.” The bed indents. “
First of all…”
He takes one thigh in each hand and spreads them. “This.” And his mouth is on my pussy.
I cry out as he flicks my clit, licks along my labia. Sticks his tongue into me, pulsing. Fucking me with it. Kissing me like he’s kissing my mouth.
If my hands were free, I’d grab his hair. And if my legs were mine, I’d try to close them, because the sensation is almost too much. But forced to accept his ministrations, I cry out and gyrate my hips as the feeling of too much becomes just right. And then, as the orgasm starts to build, I moan, meeting his mouth with my own movements, urging him on.
“You wanna come?” He licks me softly.
“Yes.” I can’t see, but fireworks of red and yellow are going off behind my lids.
“Too bad. I’m going to make you wait. In fact, let’s take you off that edge, babe.”
All of a sudden, a little lick of fire erupts on my inner thigh. I scream a little and jerk, not because it was all that painful, but because of the surprise. Then the burn sets in. “Ouch! What is that?”
“Can you guess?” The implement lands again, and again.
I flinch. “I don’t…” It comes again, harder.
“Come on, baby.” More little burning bites.
“Ow. Crop! It’s a crop.”
“Good, dirty girl.” He flicks it close to my pussy and I whimper. “Knows what a crop feels like. That makes my cock get so hard for you.”
“It wasn’t already hard? Wow. Ow!” I giggle and then gasp as he flicks the crop over my left nipple. The right.
“A little breast punishment is always fun.” Smack. “For me, that is.” He flicks the underside of my breast. “Maybe not so much for you.”
“Ohhh…” is all I can manage. Being tied up at his mercy, having him tease and torment me like this—it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever done.
“Are you wondering where the crop is going to land next?” His voice is low in my ear. He bites my neck. “I might crop your thighs a little.” And he lands some slaps on my inner thighs. “Or maybe I’ll work your breasts over a bit.” More, right on my tits. It hurts, almost too much. But I like it.
“Or maybe I'll flick the crop right onto your clit.”
Hammered: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Hard n' Dirty Book 5) Page 14