She’d wondered what he’d look like bare-chested, and even her sexiest fantasies hadn’t prepared her for a work of art made up of sculpted muscle. Like a little virgin, she lost track of what she was doing, too lost in perusing pecs and abs and lats, and exactly the right amount of body hair. And was that another tattoo along his ribs?
He fumbled at the clasp of her bra, then stopped and drew in a lungful of air before he finally managed to get it undone.
“First time?” She snickered.
“Bitch.” He swatted her ass, and the burn left her wanting more.
Slowly, he drew her bra down her arms, like he was teasing himself with the impending reveal. The way he looked at her, like she was to die for, made her cheeks hot.
When her bra was all the way off, he groaned and cupped one of her breasts in his palm, running a thumb over her hard nipple.
“Very, very nice,” he said, his words a manly purr. It was hard to ignore the way his appreciation made her belly flutter.
She ran her hands over the sleek muscles of his chest, and down to his stomach, taking a shaky breath when she traced the lines of muscle that dipped down into his dress pants.
And oh, crap . . . there was the head of his hard cock, visible at the waistband. Of course—the dickhead would have a big dick. She brushed the pad of her finger over the tip, and he tensed, then stepped back.
“Whoa. Stop.”
“Stop?” She frowned at him, hoping she’d misheard through the sound of her blood rushing past her ears. The last thing she wanted to do was stop. What she wanted to do was unzip his pants so she could keep following those muscles downward and find out exactly how big a cock she’d be dealing with. Fuck, his body was just evil, and she wanted to explore every inch of it with her mouth.
“Didn’t we have a bet?” He quirked a brow at her, but the tension in his muscles refuted his pretense of calm. “You’re really fucking distracting.”
She unbuttoned his pants, then looked surprised, as though she’d done it by accident. “Oh sorry. Did I do that?”
“Are you a bad girl, Addison?” he growled.
Oh, fuck yeah. She nodded slowly.
“We need to talk about limits before I start torturing you for information.”
She snorted. “I doubt you’ve got the balls to make me tell you anything.”
In response, he bared his teeth, and a thrill of apprehension stole up her spine. She was so horny she just wanted to goad him into doing something . . . anything.
He tightened his grip on her hair and marched her down the rest of the stairs, pulling upward hard enough that she had to resist the urge to walk on her toes.
“Sit,” he barked. He let go of her hair and pointed at the wooden chair against the wall.
She sat, not happy about the delay. “Typical male. You act like you want to have sex, then waste time running your mouth.”
“Cut the sass.” He frowned at her, and the implied “or else’” made her squirm in her seat. “We need to discuss limits before we go any further. We should have talked about them before now, but I couldn’t be sure if you were honestly interested or if you were just fucking with me.”
Good. Her grin didn’t seem to please him, and the thought that he might put her over his knee to teach her a lesson had her fantasizing about it.
“Do you have any experience with kink?”
She sighed, then rattled through her list. “Yes. My hard limits are everything illegal, bodily waste, hardcore humiliation, needle and blood play, hard slaps to the face, and spankings.”
“No spankings?” His eyes were sharp.
She’d hit a nerve and it made her want to giggle, but she knew better. “I was kidding about the spanking part.”
“Hmm. I would have been disappointed. You desperately need spankings.”
“Not just one?”
“I doubt one would do the trick, even if I broke my hand on your ass.”
She raised her brows. “I take it you’re dominant.”
“Give the girl a prize. I’m dominant, but not a Dominant. I don’t do the collaring thing.”
“I don’t need more jewelry. And your limits?”
“They’re similar to yours. Considering this is you I’m talking to, I expect a bit of sass, but I won’t tolerate a lot of mouthing off in bed. Playfulness is fine, but there’s a line.”
Oh, and how she wanted to explore his lines.
She nodded, letting him know she understood. Although she’d do her best to behave, considering how he kept making her feel, she figured the urge to give him a hassle would disappear fast. She had a sinking suspicion he could convince her to be a very good girl.
“You should pick a safeword,” he said the intensity in his eyes making her avert her gaze until she could calm down enough not to shake.
“Let’s go with ‘zombie.’”
“‘Zombie’?”
“Yes.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Well, I hate boring safewords.” She smiled at him, hoping she looked calm and sexy rather than like a bitch in heat. “And I hope you turn me into a sex zombie, so I won’t even think of using my safeword.”
A diabolical grin lit his handsome face. “Fair enough.”
He went to the large, mysterious oak cabinet and opened it. From the length of time he stared into it, she wondered how much crap he had in there. She sat impatiently on the chair, feeling pretty damned naked even with the panties still on. Was it safe to get up? She didn’t want to disobey him, but edgy impatience filled her, and sitting still was feeding into her anxiety . . . but the bastard probably knew that.
One by one, he tossed an array of implements and bindings—crops of different sizes, rope, padded handcuffs, even a large vibrator—onto the bed. The sheer number of items made her hope he was messing with her. Maybe she should have put mind fucks on her hard limit list.
When he finally closed the cupboard doors and turned to look at her, there was a gleam of satisfaction in his gaze.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice almost a purr. “You stayed where I put you.”
Her stupid, traitorous cheeks heated again. For some reason, every time he called her a good girl it made her melt. One of her exes, Mike, had used that term sometimes, but the way he’d said it had given the impression she was in for a pat on the head and maybe a treat. When Fox said it, there was an implied promise of painfully intense orgasms.
“Have you ever done edging?”
Crap. She could pretty much scratch those hoped-for orgasms then. It was something she’d always wanted to try, but she’d never found a guy who had the patience to keep her on the brink of orgasm for ages, but with Fox it felt like they’d already been at it for days.
“No,” she said, doing her best to seem unfazed by the idea. “I’m game if you think you can handle it.” She let her tone hint at the “little boy” she’d left unsaid.
He chuckled darkly. “Oh, I can handle it, sweetheart. You just try to remember you have a safeword, okay?”
“I’m sure I won’t forget.” She swallowed hard, not sure at all.
“Before we get started, we need to have a little talk.”
Talk? Damn, she should have put that on her list of hard limits. The last thing she wanted to do right then was get chatty.
“Yes?”
He sat on the foot of the bed and beckoned to her. When she reached him, he stood her in front of him, placing her where he wanted her. Crap. This had headmaster’s office written all over it, and she was too horny to deal with acting out role-play scenarios.
“What you did when we were casing the dealership could have blown our cover,” he explained, as though to a child. “When we’re on a job, you need to do what you’re told and stick to the script as much as possible. Too many embellishments or being too flash
y will make salespeople remember who we are. That’s a bad thing.”
God, did they have to talk about that now?
“Do you understand me, Addison?” He narrowed his eyes.
The way he said her name was so fucking sexy.
Wait. Was this even allowed? She hadn’t agreed to let him have control over her when it came to business, but he was . . . mixing things. It was messing with her head. Could she tell him to fuck off without damaging the beginnings of their kink dynamic? Maybe she should safeword.
“I hear what you’re saying,” she said carefully. “But maybe we just have different styles of doing things. Just because you don’t like my way, doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
“Trust me, it is. Especially since you promised to follow my lead, then didn’t. This might be a fun little hobby for you, but it’s my life. I’m not interested in ending up in jail or losing respect in my community because I’m training a loose cannon.”
She shuffled her feet, embarrassed both because he was taking her to task, and because she was mostly naked and feeling too vulnerable for this discussion. But of course he knew, and was capitalizing on it.
“So what I’m saying is, if you want to learn from me, you have to do things my way.”
She sighed. “Yes, Fox.”
“Now what kind of punishment do you think you deserve?”
Her mouth fell open. What? Outrage throbbed through her. She wanted to smack his handsome face. Curling her hands into fists at her sides, she let her irritation show in her expression.
“It’s not fair for you to make this into a kink thing. I highly doubt you’d punish me this way if I was a guy you were training.”
His brows raised. “You’re absolutely right. If you were a man, I would have pulled off the road somewhere, punched you out, and ended our arrangement. Between the fact that you’re female and we’re . . . whatever we are . . . I thought this was a more appropriate way to deal with the situation.”
Ugh. Hardass.
She had the strong urge to walk away and tell him to go fuck himself, but she didn’t want to stop training with him now, after she’d worked so hard to convince him to take her on. It was looking like she’d have to swallow her pride. The ache in her lower belly was telling her to agree to anything to make him happy, but she also didn’t want to go overboard with that. Being submissive in the bedroom was one thing, but she didn’t want to lose his respect as a fellow car thief. Eventually she’d know everything he knew, and she wanted him to take her seriously.
“Fine. I’m willing to accept punishment from you, within reason.”
He nodded solemnly, as though he’d expected that to be her answer. Fucking cocky bastard.
She had a suspicion he wasn’t going to be one of those dominants who gave a girl a little spanking and called it a punishment.
When he stood and pushed her face down on the bed, her breath caught in her throat. He went back to the cabinet and returned with one hand fisted as though he had something concealed in it. Her anticipation cranked up a notch. If she was lucky she could just fake not liking it.
It took a lot of effort not to glance back at him over her shoulder, but she didn’t want to piss him off. Instead, she waited, inhaling the crisp scent of the bedding.
“Have you ever been whipped with a strip of leather?” In front of her face, he shook out a black strip no bigger than a shoelace.
That was it? She had the urge to snicker, but kept it to herself. How bad could something that tiny be? She’d had a belt used on her before.
“No.”
“You remember your safeword?”
A smile threatened to curve her lips, but she bit them into a line before she betrayed herself.
“Yes.”
“Twenty.”
With that thing? Big deal. “Okay.”
The leather brushed against her ass, then tapped a few times. A sting. Hmm. Kind of nice. She shifted, enjoying the burn, but trying not to let on. There was the sound of him stepping back, followed by a high-pitched whistling noise.
What the . . . ?
A stinging lash cut across one of her butt cheeks, wrapping around to lick the top of her thigh. She sucked in a breath, but the next one followed, then a third.
Dammit! That fucking hurt!
More sharp stings rained down. She squealed, rising onto her toes to try to get away from the sensation. Each stripe he’d left burned, way more painfully than any thuddy implement that had ever been used on her, and very different from a belt.
She tried to dance away, but his big hand shoved between her shoulder blades and pinned her in place.
The feel of him holding her down mixed with the pain he inflicted. She could already feel herself slipping down into the numbed haze of subspace.
“Stay,” he barked.
When he removed his hand from her back, she could still feel the heat from his palm sinking deep into her skin. She didn’t dare stir. How many was that? She’d lost track. Did the first few taps count? She rubbed her mouth on the duvet, the feel of the fabric against her lips grounding her. Subspace was something she usually chased after, hoping to find it, but she didn’t want to go now. There was a strong incentive to stay aware and bask in the dominance he exuded. Even the sound of his boots on the hardwood floor made her squirm. She wanted to remember every detail and store it in her spank bank for later.
“Eleven.”
Hell. She clawed at the blanket, twisting it in her hands. Her ass and thighs were on fire. She should have put her thighs on her hard limits list too, fucker.
More blows rained down, and more again.
“Nineteen.”
Almost over. Thank god. Safewording during their first time together would make her feel like a pussy.
The sound of the cord shrieking through the air made her entire body tense. A lick of fire cut across her ass, wrapping around to sting her all the way to her hip. She screeched, the sound getting louder when he traced the mark the last shot must have left. When she got control over her noise, every breath she took came in a shuddering gasp. Her entire body was locked, knotted. Her ass throbbed like the bassline at a metal concert, but the pain was all ringing treble.
From over her shoulder came a low growl of approval. “You mark up so fucking pretty.”
She felt her cheeks heat, suddenly too aware he was staring at her ass. Lord knew she had a round one. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back.
“Kneel.”
Now? Was he serious?
Only allowing herself one quiet whine, she carefully slid to the floor and knelt, flinching when her heels met her butt.
Fire down below, and not in the fun way—although her slick thighs proved she was lying to herself.
After a long moment, she realized he was looking down at her expectantly. She’d been so caught up in how her body was feeling and the way her mind was scrambling around, she hadn’t noticed he was waiting for something.
She looked up at him, but couldn’t quite meet his eyes. Her nipples were puckered so hard, she wished she could hide them from his probing gaze. But he wasn’t missing a thing.
The man knew too much. He would have to be killed . . . but later, after he got her off a few hundred times.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Addison?”
He stood over her, the strength in his stance and the sharpness in his gaze made her want to go belly down and grovel. To kiss the toe of his boot. Anything to make him happy with her. The haze moved in again, and she tried to fight it off, but it was like slapping at fog.
Uhh . . .
Please fuck my brains out?
Sorry about drooling?
My ass is in love with you?
She stared at him blankly for a moment, his stern gaze giving her a shiver that went through her whole body. Her nip
ples ached, and she wished he’d do something mean to them, even if she hated it.
“Um . . .”
He sighed and shook his head in disapproval.
If she didn’t say the right thing, was he going to punish her again? Lord, she kind of wanted him to.
“Do you feel like you learned anything from that?” he prompted helpfully.
She nodded slowly, her eyes widening. “Yes, Fox. I’m sorry. I’ll try to behave.”
He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a groan, and grasped her chin, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. Before she could stop herself, her tongue darted out to taste it. Heat flared in his eyes and her body responded, only wanting to please him.
“I guess that’ll have to do for now,” he said, then cupped the side of her face. She leaned into it like a cat, and for a blissful moment he stared into her eyes and stroked her face. Every bone in her body melted into a messy little puddle.
“On the bed now.” He helped her up and onto the mattress as her legs wobbled beneath her. The feeling of her ass meeting the duvet made her want to pop back up onto her feet, but the satisfaction in his gaze when she winced made it worthwhile.
At some point he’d rebuttoned his pants, and the way his dick strained at the fabric, she knew what he’d want next. Would he be the kind of guy who liked teeth or not? Would he groan, or just watch her suck his cock in dominant silence? Or would he boss her around while she did it? The squirm she couldn’t control made her bottom ache.
He leaned past her, grabbing something behind her back.
Rope. Already? Dammit.
She thought of begging to suck his cock and struggled to control herself. Maybe he wouldn’t have minded hearing it, but letting herself get drawn so far into submissive headspace, so soon, was mortifying. But, these feelings weren’t just from today. All of their interactions to date had led her this far down the rabbit hole. Every gesture, every time he’d taken charge and done delicious things to her—there was a reason her mind was accepting his dominance so fast. He’d been priming her for this all along.
Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline) Page 7