Taming the Brat (Forbidden Secrets)

by Diana Rose Wilson

  He felt huge, spearing her greedy pussy impossibly wide around him. The thick girth of his cock plunged in without any teasing but she was wet with her need. He was balls deep and grinding in as she pushed back into him, feeling him bruising her, tearing her.

  More. More! “Harder!” she cried, her throat raw from her begging. He pulled her head back by the hair and the other hand slid along her belly and up between her breasts. He pulled her back and into his chest. Everything burned and stung where his body pressed against her but she sat up onto her knees. The world spun around as he jerked his hips and then slammed deeper into her.

  He stretched her creamy walls, the violent union splitting her wider. His powerful body slapped against her whipped ass, harder than the belt, repeatedly taking her. His mouth closed over the side of her neck and his teeth pressed into her, biting roughly.

  She came furiously, screaming out, “Sir!” and shattered into pieces around him. The force of her climax soaked his balls and thighs as he pulled her back into him, pinching her nipple as she came apart. The whole world might have exploded, it felt so fucking good. His tongue filled her mouth as she turned her head to meet his lips as he continued to take her, his moans and snarls vibrating against her as they kissed.

  He tasted salty and spicy, like the most erotic candy she’d ever known. He arched behind her, his body suddenly taut, every muscle corded and held still before he uttered a throaty roar against her lips. He came so hard, she could feel his huge cock throbbing and swelling as his cum gushed from him. She whimpered and ground against him, wanting to have his cock as deep in her as she could. She slid her hand up, sliding over his sweaty neck and cheek to his hair, securing handfuls of the short, golden locks to keep him kissing her.

  They kissed for a very long time like that, his hand cupping her breast, his other in her hair. Her body bowed back toward him with her thighs stretched around his and her ass nuzzling his stomach. His cock stayed hard inside her, pulsing with their shared heartbeat.

  At last he broke the kiss, nipping her lower lip as he shifted behind her. “Careful, sweetheart,” he whispered and released his fingers from her tangled hair, to help ease her back onto the bed. “That’s a good girl. A perfect girl.”

  His face was sweaty and slick, his eyes glowing with pleasure and desire when she looked over her shoulder at him. His big hands, which were so skillful at hurting her, were gentle now. He guided her onto the bed and slid out of her. He was wearing a condom, she saw, and he held the base of his cock as he slowly slipped out of her and rolled off the bed.

  She felt raw and empty.

  He left her on the bed to pad into the bathroom and she heard the water running.

  Empty.

  She curled around herself, hugging her knees.

  What had she just done? Her body buzzed with pleasure but she felt adrift and horribly alone in the huge bed. She’d never felt so wonderful and so devastated at the same time. The fire was gone now, leaving only faded red coals in the bottom of the fireplace. Most of the candles had gone out. Part of her still burned too—a private, lonely flame in her chest. Curling into herself more, she felt the tears come again, blurring the vision of the fire.

  “Baby…” His voice rumbled low and his hands smoothed over her shoulders. “I’m right here.”

  “You left!” she accused brokenly as he pulled her, unresisting, into his arms and hid her face in his warm chest.

  “Baby, I didn’t leave you. I had to get you a towel.” And to demonstrate, he laid the damp cloth over her backside and adjusted her in his arms. “Careful, Vanderbilt. I was too rough with you. I’m so sorry.”

  She uttered a soft moan at the contact of the wet towel and cuddled into the circle of his arms, breathing in the spicy, leather scent along his neck and smiled. “You weren’t. It was so good.” Her voice felt far away as the fear she’d felt when left alone slowly ebbed away. “You didn’t leave me.”

  He laughed and tipped her chin up, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. A blush burned her cheeks at the electric-blue fire in his gaze. “Not leaving.” The smile faded slightly as he asked, “You sure you’re all right? You’re not just being brave?”

  Vans close her eyes and leaned up to kiss him softly. “I am brave, but no…I…that was amazing. Fuck…Sir.”

  He growled and caught her lower lip between his teeth. He didn’t apply pressure there but caressed the tip of his tongue along her skin before releasing her. “You’re a wicked girl, precious!”

  She smiled up at him, eyelids too heavy to reopen, and nodded her head.

  He rumbled in pleasure and caressed her hair with his huge hand, coaxing her face back to his chest. He said something but her head was too far into the clouds to hear him. She slipped into sleep before he could even get her under the blankets and didn’t wake until morning.

  Chapter Three

  Nov 21, 2015

  Snow was falling when she woke. Outside the huge window, the lazy flakes danced and swirled down to the ground. She felt surrounded in puffy softness too and realized that she lay alone in the huge bed. A pang of sadness plucked against her ribs. Rolling onto her side, she noticed that the other side of the bed didn’t look as if it had been slept in at all. More disappointment swept over her.

  A single red rose lay on the pillow at the other side of the bed, tied with a red ribbon. Cute.

  Don’t be stupid, Charles, of course he wasn’t going to sleep with you. He beat the shit out of you and then went to sleep off his buzz in some other room. Do you think he is Prince Charming?

  Actually, she sort of did. At least she wished it, if she could be honest with herself. The hard play from the night before had stripped her of any of her delusions. She wanted that guy and she wanted him to be brutal and kind and dirty and cruel and cocky all in one tangled package. The fact that he’d not cuddled her all night came as a blow.

  Sighing, she sat up, breath catching. The pain from the spanking was real. Without the pleasure attached to it, the sensation was almost too much. She carefully climbed out of bed, pushing the blankets away, and was shocked to see the blood streaks against the white bedding.

  Great.

  Everything ached. Particularly walking. Each step was a reminder of just how hard he’d fucked her. God. Damn. She really liked it. Even though it made her think of him, reinforcing the fact that she clearly wrapped more emotion behind it than the man did. Sir Fucks-a-lot. Sure, he said he didn’t troll for pussy here, but he certainly knew his way around one. No way she was buying that this wasn’t his regular routine. Spank a girl until she was wet and then dip his wick. What number pussy was she?

  Brilliant, Charles.

  She flipped the light on in the bathroom and started at the mirror.

  Good morning, your highness. If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t make it back in time. Please enjoy a long soak in the bath. I will return shortly. Do not leave the suite without me or there will be no repeat spankings. ~ Sir.

  “Fuckity fuck,” Vans hissed and read the message in lipstick a few times before tearing her eyes away. She demanded her heart stop skipping around in her ribs and when it wouldn’t obey, went to fill the tub with water.

  Her backside was a network of welts with several spots crisscrossed where the skin was broken. She remembered how she’d arched into the last stroke of the belt with a shiver of pleasure and touched the worst of the marks, a bloody line across her cheek and hip.

  The welts stung as she eased into the water but once in, the warmth eased the worst so it was only an ache rather than blazing agony. Maybe she should have used that safe word. The thought made her smirk and she pressed into the welt on her hip as she eased farther into the tub. Hell no. This is worth it. Closing her eyes, she traced the marks, probing each hot spot, trying to remember when she’d received each one.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  She looked up from fingering the welts to find the man in the dragon mask leering at her. Dressed again in his tux, he looke
d huge, intimidating and fierce.

  Her mouth went dry and she couldn’t speak. Her throat refused to work as her heart nuzzled up into it.

  “Holy fucking shit. I’ve rendered you speechless?” He grinned at her and offered out a cup, pretending to be intimidated about it. “I c-c-come with c-coffee…ladyship.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Fuck you,” he growled and stepped closer, offering the cup to her. “Precious.”

  She took the drink and motioned with her hand for him to join her, smirking. “A shame you’re all dressed up and look too pretty to rumple. Asshole.”

  He grinned and rolled up one shoulder, sipping from his own coffee. “Yeah. Real shame.”

  For a moment, the electric sexual energy sparked between them as they drank their coffee in silence, watching each other over the tops of their cups. She wanted him to come to her and let her pull him into the bath. She longed for him to scrub her clean. She wanted him!

  Dragon was a better player at this game. After letting her see his passion and need for her in those stunning eyes, he closed down.

  “Soap up your pussy, baby. I want you nice and clean to start today so I can see how fucking wrecked I can get you later.”

  She almost dropped her cup. He noticed her attempt to conceal the fumble and winked from behind the mask before slipping out of the room.

  “Asshole!” she called after him.

  “It’s Sir Asshole to you, girl.”

  Her smile widened and she sunk into the water up to her nose, struggling not to giggle like a child. This man was perfect and he knew it. He was going to devastate her. A part of her screamed that she should run. Another part demanded she stay. Nothing this good had ever come along before and she wasn’t going to let her chance slip by her.

  Enjoying the coffee—something without pumpkin spice, thank god—she spent extra time in the bath. Sure, in part it was to relax her muscles and soothe herself but she also wanted to see if he would come back in to check on her.

  He didn’t.

  Asshole!

  She drank the coffee before it and the bath water got cold, finished washing up and climbed out of the tub, wrapping in a towel before she shuffled out to the main room. Dragon sat in a chair just outside the bathroom door, fingers steepled under the savage jaws of his dragon mask. His long, powerful legs stretched out before him were crossed at the ankles. Still fully dressed in his jacket and bow tie, he looked like a warlord in a suit. It was the eyes that made her stop in her tracks though. The brilliant azure blazed with an emotion she feared to name. Her heart twirled around within her chest.

  He crooked his finger toward her to summon her forward and exposed one side of his mouth, his full lips quirked into a smile. “Towel off,” he said with a soft voice.

  For half a heartbeat she hesitated and then let the towel fall from her dewy body and took a slow step toward him.

  “Turn,” he growled, holding her gaze.

  How in the world had she thought he was unattractive before? It had to be the layers of dirt that had disguised him. She couldn’t have been that oblivious. Could she?

  With all the grace she could muster, she turned on the balls of her feet, trying to recall her ballet classes. It must have agreed with him because he rumbled with a sound of pleasure for her effort. She felt his warm breath against her hip and then a soft hiss escaped him.

  “Well, I think I got carried away last night,” he said, voice low. “I should have had more control.”

  “But I wanted—”

  He put a finger to one of the welts and pressed and she sucked in a breath.

  “I never should have broken the skin here. That was bad form. I got carried away. You were… Fuck, you are amazing.” He kissed the small of her back, his lips warm against her. “Tell me, pet, did I frighten you?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Tell me your thoughts.”

  She hesitated and was glad she didn’t have to meet his eyes right then. Instead she stared into the steamy bathroom as words failed her.

  His lips brushed against her welted ass softly, his breath teasing her skin. He let her wrestle with her thoughts and reflections, not intruding.

  “I think last night was the most erotic night of my life. I don’t know about control or not, but I loved it. I want more of that.”

  He didn’t speak right away. Instead he kissed the other ass cheek. At length he asked, “Would you like everyone to see these marks today?”

  That question made her look over her shoulder at him and he smirked up at her and leaned back into his chair, lacing his fingers behind the nape of his neck.

  “What do you have in mind?” she asked.

  “An anal plug with a horse tail and a chastity belt,” he answered without a flicker of embarrassment. “Maybe nipple clamps to go with this pretty harness I have for my Faery Queen.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she snapped without thinking.

  One eyebrow arched up and he dropped his arms, reaching for her, turning her around as his hands closed on her hips. He peered up at her, his long fingers squeezing her. “What’s this? Don’t you like being my queen?”

  “It reminds me of that…person…in the Bee outfit and her stupid fucking crown and… No, I’m no queen. I am not anything like that. I was a stupid idiot and I made a mistake but I’m not like her.”

  “Ah.” He smiled slowly and pulled her closer to him, widening his thighs so she stood between them.

  She lifted a hand and stroked the leather of the mask and then down over his jaw. “Yeah,” she said quietly.

  “I think you need to talk with your friend, Vanderbilt.”

  She shivered in pleasure at the way he said her name.

  He flashed a gleam of teeth. “With the butt plug in, crawling on your hands and knees, showing off that well-spanked ass. At least you won’t have to sit down.”

  “I don’t do ass sex,” she said primly.

  “Who said anything about sex? I don’t think I’m putting out for the rest of the weekend.” He leaned in and kissed her navel where she wore a lucky-horseshoe-and-shamrock charm in her bellybutton. His brows furrowed. “Don’t like horses, huh?”

  For a moment she was caught on the concept that they might not have sex again, but then focused on his question. “What? Well, I just… I have bad memories regarding horses.” She scowled when he watched her expectantly and closed her eyes. “It’s ancient history. All right? Before my parents got divorced, I was in pony club and had riding classes. Even after they split, it used to be tradition for Daddy to take me to lessons. Afterward we would do some father-daughter crap. When my dad remarried, his new wife put a stop to that right quick and in a hurry. My mother was delighted that I didn’t spend time with him and threw herself into the effort to keep me away. The Christmas pony I was supposed to get? It turned out to be a stupid stuffed dust collector.” She tipped her head and glared at him accusingly for making her air the painful memories. “Happy?”

  He frowned, stood and quite suddenly pulled her in and kissed her. It was not the heated fierceness of the night before. This had emotion behind it. He pulled off his mask and cupped her face in his hands as he coaxed her lips open with his tongue and teased her as he filled her with his taste and his heat.

  Only when she’d submitted to him and her naked body melted against his chest did he break the kiss. His mouth lingered over hers, sucking slowly on her lower lip as the contact finally ended.

  “Vanderbilt, I am never happy when you hurt like this.” He spoke against her lips and held her gaze.

  She couldn’t handle his direct, honest expression right now. She’d dreamed of someone looking at her that way and now that she had it, it terrified her. “Fuck,” she growled and pushed at his careful hold, tears making everything too bright. “What do you care?”

  He didn’t release her, even when she struck his chest and thrashed in his warm embrace. “I care, precious baby, because despite your efforts, or maybe because
of them, I’m falling for you.”

  “You didn’t even know my name before last night!”

  “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

  “You sound like a fucking pop song! Let go of me. Fucking let go, asshole.” She hit him again but uselessly, feeling the tears overpower her and weaken her.

  “Are you using your safe word? Do you seriously want me to leave you alone right now? I don’t want to leave you.” He held her carefully, not releasing her but not pulling her in against him, just letting her struggle against her own emotions in the circle of his arms.

  She broke down against his chest and he lifted her into his arms and settled back into the chair, carefully drawing her into his lap. He rocked her, soothing her with soft kisses until she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don’t leave me.”

  “Of course not, you silly brat.” He nuzzled her neck and let out a huge breath. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not comfortable with the suddenness of these emotions either, but I told you I’m not playing games and so I want to be honest with you. I trust you will be honest with me too. We’re both adults. If you want this to be a no-strings thing we’re doing, I want to know about it because…damn it, woman, I am not feeling no-strings on my end.”

  “Then why didn’t you sleep with me last night?”

  He drew his head back and stared hard at her. “I did sleep with your bratty ass, but your snoring woke me up and I went to get coffee.”

  She ignored his jab at her snoring and poked his chest with a finger. “The other side of the bed didn’t look slept in.”

  “Because I was wrapped as tightly around you as I could get. Brat, of course I slept with you.” He paused. “You thought I went all the way into the other room and slept alone instead of feeling your silken beauty all night? You are out of your beautiful mind.”

  She sniffled quietly and started to laugh very softly into his chest.

  “Stop making this hard, brat,” he murmured, and she felt his smile in her hair as he breathed in the clean smell of her shampoo. “This is as scary for me as it is for you. Let’s just enjoy this free fall together. Know that I want to see where this leads, and I’m not playing games.”