The Man I Desire (The Man I Need Trilogy #2)

by Loretta Steel

  It was the anticipation, the build up, that killed me. I dreaded it, but only because I knew I’d disappointed him. And that hurt far more than anything else ever could.

  He took my hand and lead me towards the desk. The one he’d recently bought for his office. To spruce the place up a bit, he’d said. But it had other uses.

  He didn’t give me the time to protest.

  He took my head in his hand and applied just enough pressure to ease me faced down over the desk without hurting me.

  I didn’t dare move. Or look back. Not until I heard him leave the room.

  I was wondering what he was doing when in an instant I saw the flash of a leather paddle.

  ‘I’ve been keeping it for occasions such as this one,’ he said.

  The handle gripped tightly in his palm looked both scary and erotic.

  Fear and pleasure flooded through me as I took in the size of it. It must have been at least ten inches long and five wide. It was made of solid untouched leather. It reminded me of …

  Pain.

  Red hot pain on my legging covered arse.

  The thwack when it landed jolted me forwards in surprise.

  Again, this time harder. His aim was to get his message across with as little time as necessary. But it hurt. It hurt like hell.

  After a succession of stinging whacks, my skin was searing. Raw.

  But he had no intention of stopping.

  I had to bite my lip to stop myself from crying out because I knew that was what he wanted. He wanted me to feel the anger and pain he’d felt at the thought of losing me. And, I did. But deep inside, I knew his harsh punishment was no more than a loving, but firm reminder of who wore the trousers in this house.

  My arse was on fire, scorching hot to the touch, when finally he removed my leggings and knickers in one tug, leaving them to fall down to my ankles.

  He landed several more slaps of the paddle to my already red behind, before dropping it to the floor and leaving me exposed, bent over his desk.

  I went to move, but he returned before I could grip the edge of the desk in order to haul myself up. My legs trembled so much I couldn’t bear any weight on them so slumped forwards to accept whatever else he had designed for me.

  My punishment wasn’t over.

  Not by a long shot.

  But what he had in mind could hardly be considered a punishment at all.

  BLAKE

  I moved her shoulder, initiating the turn I wanted her to perform.

  ‘Don’t cry,’ I said, catching a rolling tear in my hand as she moved to face me.

  I guessed it was her reaction to seeing me reappear without another implement. But what I had in mind didn’t require one.

  I lifted her up from the desk and carried her into the bedroom, feeling her arse burning on my arm. She flinched when I dropped her down onto her back, but she didn’t try to resist me when I pulled her legs apart and slid myself between them.

  She gasped as I entered her. Deep, longing surged inside me as I tried hard not to cum too soon. My balls gleamed with her juice.

  I took her breasts in my hands and squeezed her nipples until they sprung out like two pins on a board.

  As I went deeper, her red arse pressed against the tops of my thighs, she moaned.

  ‘You know I only spank you because I desire a quiet life.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Why didn’t you walk away that first day I threatened you?’

  ‘Can we not talk now?’ she said, as I pumped her harder.

  She lay there, spread eagle on the bed. Feet barely touching the floor. Her arse stinging from the blows of the thick, heavy leather paddle I’d used to spank her with moments ago. And even facing me, she couldn’t give me an honest answer.

  ‘Fine, have it your way,’ I said, pulling out of her, grabbing her arm and flipping her onto her stomach.

  ‘Blake?’

  She was uncertain of what I was about to do. Her legs quivered. Goosebumps covered her arms.

  I struck her hard, once, on each cheek.

  ‘Speak.’

  She didn’t.

  So I struck her again, and again, and again until my hand hurt.

  She didn’t cry. She barely moved. Just rocked from side to side as each blow landed down harder than the last, maybe too hard, on her already swollen bright red cheeks. By the time I became breathless, and looked down at the devastation left in my moment of madnesses, I knew I had to regain control.

  I leant down and whispered into her ear that I loved her. Her hands reached back and tugged me towards her. Despite the fact that her face was ablaze, her arse crimson, marked by my hand - the hand that had held her, caressed her, pleasured her - she wanted me.

  She glanced back at me, begging me with her eyes to take her from behind. I held her close and breathed in the scent of her quiet anticipation. I felt her knees buckle as I slid my cock into her wet pussy.

  Just as I was about to come I pulled out of her and she flung herself onto her back, wincing from her sore behind as she leapt up off the bed. I went to grab her hand but she pulled me forwards and I stood in front of her. Her eyes were sparkling with desire.

  She shoved me in jest, and I pretended to fall onto the floor where she lunged at me. Straddling me, she took my hands and moved them down towards her arse. She flinched as my palms found the warm tender skin of her behind, but she let me keep them there as she ran her hand up and down the shaft of my cock sending shockwaves of pleasure to flood me.

  She shifted her weight down slowly so that the tip of my cock entered her, one inch at a time until the full length of it was inside her. Her soft pussy opened up to me and I felt myself melting as her juices eased the journey.

  Then she fucked me. Hard. And I let her.

  EZRA

  I knew I’d deserved it, but the sight of the welts on my arse in the mirror was enough to send me running to the bedroom, flushed with the heat of shame and the unfamiliar creeping pleasure that fingered its way up my thighs and left me panting with one hand holding the edge of the bath, the other stroking my pussy. The skin of my rear was scorching as if Blake had held a flame to it.

  What he’d inflicted on me was no more than I’d asked for, but I couldn’t handle the apology that came with it as I left the bathroom, gasping in shock to find him leaning on the doorframe.

  Had he heard me fingering myself?

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah, why?’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Something’s going on in there,’ he said, pointing to my head. ‘Let me in.’

  Embarrassed and feeling guilty for enjoying what was supposed to have been a punishment, I immediately jumped to my defence, unable to handle my emotions that for the briefest of moments had been quelled by Blake’s unrelenting use of discipline.

  ‘All of this,’ I said, shovelling clothes into a suitcase. ‘I can’t deal with it.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘You have no right to apologise to me.’

  He looked to the floor, shame in his features.

  ‘No right at all.’

  ‘I should have waited. I’m-‘

  ‘Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. I …’

  I couldn’t get the words out.

  I’d gone to him willingly. I’d lain over the bed and accepted his need to chastise me. But I needed him to be strong. If he couldn’t handle this, how the fuck was I supposed to?

  ‘Come here,’ he said, sensing he’d lost my belief in him to remain the stable figure between us.

  Despite my reluctance to allow him to see the pain I’d felt at his own self-administered humiliation, I walked towards him and allowed him to embrace me in his arms.

  I would not accept his apology, but I would accept his love.

  BLAKE

  I was afraid sometimes, of my own strength. Of my own demons trying to clamber out of my solid cold heart. But I’d learnt to love and I’d gr
own wisdom from that. Ezra had been right all along. I’d kept as many secrets from her as she’d kept from me. I had no right to punish her for that.

  I stared at the man in the mirror reflected back at me. No longer hardened by pain and sadness, but by something else. The loss of my sister had broken me. Her death had been in vain, and I’d tried unsuccessfully to avenge her murder. But the killer was dead now. It was time to lay her murder to rest.

  Ezra swept my arms up and over her head, planting a firm but gentle kiss on my mouth. She tasted of vanilla, she smelt of sex. She was my undoing. She was kind natured, sharp thinking and gorgeous. She was the woman I’d marry in a heartbeat. But did she feel the same?

  EZRA

  I’d learnt a lot about trust. Blake had taught me that not every man out there was a monster. I’d slowly learned to allow another man to break the boundaries between what was considered the norm and what was no longer tolerated in a society that convicted men for their desires.

  I needed Blake. I needed him like a sun-drenched meadow needed rain. He’d awoken my carnal desire to be lead. To be cherished. To be loved. I was no longer afraid to submit myself to him, but forever?

  Forever was a long time, and I wasn’t sure if Blake’s strength and persistence could pave the way to that kind of future. Commitment wasn’t my strong point, but it seemed to be his.

  He waltzed into the room holding a small black velvet box. He got down on one knee and said, ‘Ezra DeSilva, Bethany Stone, will you do me the honour of agreeing to become my wife?’

  And I did what I always did when forced into an uncomfortable situation.

  I ran.

  Continue the journey by reading an extract from The Man I Love, the third installment of the trilogy which is available to pre-order now for release in March 2017

  PART THREE

  EZRA

  I ran into his arms.

  The black velvet box, now empty dropped to the floor as he lifted me up in the air and swung me around.

  ‘Yes, I’ll marry you,’ I said, glancing down to the huge diamond ring that glinted even in the dimly lit living room.

  I knew what marriage meant to him. It was more than just a commitment to love one another. It was a contract. I’d promised to be his, forever. And in turn, he’d promised to protect me. To love me. To shower me with affection. And to stand up to me, like a man. The man I needed. The man I desired.

  The man I loved.

  I hope you have enjoyed reading The Man I Desire.

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