“You’re mine,” he said.
“Never.”
He cupped both her breasts. Then he stroked both nipples with his thumbs. The nipple he’d squeezed earlier felt tender, but in a way that made her instantly respond.
“Damn, but you’ve a responsive body.”
Her knees buckled. Instinctively she grabbed for his wrists to hold herself steady.
She hated this push and pull of emotions. She wanted him, and she desperately wanted not to want him.
He stunned her then by kneeling in front of her. No.
She kept her legs together.
“Don’t deny me.”
“I will.” Again and again. No matter what her traitorous body wanted.
He released her breasts and she released her grip on his wrists.
Then determinedly he worked his left hand between her thighs. “Your pussy is drenched.”
“A natural enough reaction.”
“So that’s the way it’s to be?” He slid a fingertip across her clit. Then he pushed, hard enough to wring a gasp from her. “Means nothing to you, Sinead?”
“Sex is sex. You can get it on any street corner.”
“And this?” He began to rub.
She forced herself to stand still instead of swaying with the motion. Damn there was something appealing about having such a large, forceful man on his knees, his mouth a whisper away from her cunt.
Abruptly, he slid a finger inside her.
Christ. He shocked her, but he didn’t hurt her. It felt…
He inserted a second finger inside her.
He looked at her, then pulled them out and showed her his fingers, glistening with her juices. “Means nothing,” he repeated.
“Are you trying to prove a point? Trying to prove that the Big Bad Evil Quinn is a lady’s man? Is that what this was about? Fillean meal ar an meallaire.” Evil returns to the evil doer.
He stood and caught both her hands, imprisoned them behind her back and forced her body against his, her tight little nipples abrading against the cotton of his T-shirt. “That wasn’t evil. This…” He captured her mouth in a quick, brutally tender kiss. “This isn’t evil, either.”
She looked up at him, aware of her nakedness and his full state of dress, his aura of command.
He knelt and easily slid both fingers back inside her.
She moved then, her body betraying her mind. She spread her legs to accommodate him.
“Shall I do you like this till you scream?”
He gave her no time for an answer.
“I think that’s what you’ll do. Scream. You’re not one for a quiet climax are you?”
Not gently, he parted her labia then moved forward and captured her clit between his teeth.
Oh God, how long since a man had eaten her pussy?
Deliberately this man was undoing her resistance, with his combination of pain that brought her to the brink of tormented pleasure.
He licked her, he nipped at her. She started to whimper. Then he pressed his tongue against her. She jerked her hips. She moaned. Her soft little sounds grew louder as he finger- fucked her in addition to licking and sucking.
She curled her hands into the thick locks of his hair, dragging his head closer. She was so close, almost there…almost. “I want to come,” she admitted.
“And I want you to beg for it,” he said, words muffled by her heated flesh.
He pulled back and removed one finger from her pussy. She felt him move the moist finger backwards so that he was probing against the entrance to her arse. She’d never done this before, but…yes…
“Tell me.Tell me you want my finger in that tight little hole. Beg me to finger-fuck both holes.”
“Quinn. I can’t.”
He continued to torment her just a little, not enough to get her off.
She jerked her hips in response to his finger, his mouth, his tongue. Oh God, his tongue…
Then he stopped.“Beg.”
Her body felt like a tightly-strung instrument. “Yes,” she said. “Yes. Please.”
“Beg,” he repeated.
“Please finger-fuck me, Quinn.”
She’d never used such graphic language before. But with him, it didn’t embarrass her. “Please…”
“The words, Sinead. I want to hear the words.”
“Please finger-fuck me.”
“Not just my cunt, but my arse.”
Hot colour chased up her cheeks. “Finger-fuck my cunt, my arse.”
“And your clit, Sinead? What do you want me to do with your clit?”
“Lick it, suck it.”
“Tell me it all.”
“I want…” She cleared her throat. She was a performer. She’d been on stage since the age of five. She knew how to step out of reality and into an alternate place. This was really no different, despite the fact it was her enemy kneeling in front of her, his masterful mouth only a breath away from her most intimate place. “Please, Quinn. Finger-fuck my cunt and my arse while you lick my clit.”
“Do not come without permission,” he told her.
“I beg your pardon?”
“That’s how things will be, Sinead. We’ll be using clamps. I’ll tie you up. In the bedroom, hellcat, you’ll be mine. If you’re very good, I’ll let you climax. But never, and make no mistake about this, without permission. If you come without my approval, it’ll be a long, long time before you’re allowed another one.”
She was barely able to think. In spite of his sensual but harsh words, he hadn’t stopped touching her. And Lord help her, she didn’t want to make him stop. An orgasm churned deep inside, and she wanted the release it would bring.
Earlier, on the bidet, she’d had a tiny release, nothing compared to what he’d given her a while ago while he tormented her nipples. But even that, she knew, would be tame compared to what was building now. Every muscle and sinew felt stretched tight, demanding satisfaction. “I’m not sure what kind of women you’ve dealt with before,” she told him, “but I’m not one of the simpering villagers where you rule like lord and master. You can’t tie me up or force me to beg for your sexual favours.”
“Oh, aye, lass, I can. And you’ll do it of your own free will. You’ll crawl to me with bindings in your teeth and you’ll drop them at my feet and beg me to secure you to a punishment bench.”
“Punishment bench?” Was he serious? He couldn’t make this up, could he? “You sound positively medieval.”
“Quite the contrary. My punishment bench is modern. The hooks are brand new.”
“I’ll see you in hell first.” But because the picture he painted was so close to her own fantasies, she shivered.
“Love, you’ll be happy to make the trip.”
Brutally he slapped her cunt.
She gasped. She was horrified, not just because of his vicious act, but because she was so incredibly wet.
“Do you like that?” he asked.
“Not on your life.”
“Your mouth tells one story,” he said. “Your body tells another. You were made for me, Sinead, for my mastery. For my lash. Come without permission and you’ll feel the wrath of my belt across your arse cheeks.”
Oh God. Had it been less than an hour since she’d imagined herself across a man’s lap, his hand falling repeatedly on her naked buttocks? Had he used magic to read her mind? Or did he truly mean it?
She told herself she needed to end this immediately, get out of here, maybe call the police. But her feet felt as if they were encased in concrete. Instead of turning away, she rose onto her tiptoes, wordlessly seeking more. She had no idea what was happening to her, why she was responding so completely.
He nipped at her clit and she squealed. “No coming without permission,” he reminded her. “Do you understand?”
She was still reeling from the smart smack to her swollen vulva. Her entire being throbbed with need. It would take him thirty seconds, maybe less, to make her shatter. “I’d rather crawl through molten rocks.”
&nb
sp; He laughed, and the vibration only stimulated her. “My rules. My way. Yield now or I’ll leave you on the edge.”
Bastard that he was, she knew he’d do just that. If she were a stronger person, she’d shove him away, put on her clothes, and figure out another way to escape. But with him on his knees, his mouth right there, she was not only willing, she was weak. Damn him, she didn’t want him to stop.
“Shall I continue, Sinead? Shall I give you the orgasm of your life?”
Her breasts were full, her nipples had swollen. Her breathing was laboured.
“It’s your choice entirely.”
“Make me come,” she ordered.
“What happens if you come without permission?”
“A spanking.” She rolled her eyes even as she wondered what that would feel like.
“One you won’t forget,” he said. “Take your hands out of my hair and place them behind you. Cross your wrists at the small of your back. Pretend they’re secured, and don’t move them. We’ll consider that you’re tied by my will.”
“You’ve lost your senses.”
“Five seconds to comply, wench.”
She shuddered. She knew he meant it, and damn it, the rush of heat between her legs told her that her mind was rebellious, but her wanton body wasn’t.
Slowly she disentangled her hands from his hair and obediently did as she’d been told.
“Stick out your chest just a little more to arch your back. That’ll give me greater access to your hot little cunt.”
Feeling humiliated, she did exactly what he ordered.
“I forgot what you wanted.”
Liar.
“Tell me again, in detail.”
“Please, Quinn,” she said, “I want to come.” As she spoke, he started to move, rewarding each word with a tender stroke. “I want you to finger-fuck my cunt…”
He moved a finger slowly inside her, as he might thrust his cock. That was enough, she knew, to bring her off, given enough time.
“And my arse,” she whispered, desperate to wrap her hands around his head for support.
“Anal virgin?” he asked.
“Yes,” she confessed. “A bit nervous.”
“We’ll go slow. And when we’re home, I’ll give you some time to adjust to wearing a plug.”
She might have protested if she could have found her voice. But she knew there’d be plenty of time for arguing later.
She felt his finger begin to press into her anus.
“Tell me what else,” he said.
“Lick my pussy. Lick it good.”
“How much pressure against your clit?”
She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. It was simultaneously erotic and mortifying. “A lot. “I sometimes can’t…”
“When you masturbate?”
“Yes. I have trouble…” He pressed his tongue against her—hard—as he shoved his finger inside her rectum.
Sensations assaulted her, feeling as if they came from the inside out. She was delirious with desire. One of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen, was licking and sucking her cunt, fingering both holes while she panted.
She rocked back and forth, thrusting her pelvis forward, shamelessly demanding he give her more. He responded perfectly, as if intuitively reading her body’s needs.
The sensations built and built to a primal crescendo.
She was on the balls of her feet. She wanted to reach for him, but she recalled his words, that she was tied by his will. For reasons beyond her, she wanted to please him as much as he was pleasing her. He wanted her hands behind her back. She’d keep them there. “Quinn!” She remembered, barely. “Please,” she said. “Please. I want to come. I need to come.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he continued to eat her, lick her. He moved the finger inside her arse.
She was helpless, undone. “I’m begging. Begging. Let me come, Quinn.”
He murmured something that she prayed was assent.
Screaming like the Banshee herself, she came, hard.
She was unable to keep her balance, despite the fact he moved his shoulders forward to support her thighs. Her toes sought purchase in the carpeting, but it wasn’t enough. Defying his order, she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward, grinding her cunt shamelessly against his face.
He continued to lick, to suck, to fuck until the last shudder passed.
Her knees felt weak, and she couldn’t draw a breath all the way into her lungs.
As if in slow motion, he moved, gathering her into his arms, sweeping her from the ground and carrying her to the bed. He placed her there, on the side opposite the suitcase.
Now that the ordeal was over, she felt vulnerable in her nakedness. She reached for the robe, but couldn’t quite curl her listless fingers around it.
He left her, and she heard water running
He returned less than a minute later with a warm, damp flannel that he placed between her legs.
She had never had a man tend her like this, and she liked it.
All fight had left her, even though she knew he was a Quinn. Now that she’d had a world-class orgasm, the sweat on her body began to cool.
He moved the piece of luggage onto a nearby chair then toed off his boots and sat on the edge of the bed.
She eyed him warily.
“You didn’t follow my orders,” he told her.
She stiffened, aware of her state of undress and the fact his jaw was set in an uncompromising line. Butterflies roiled in her stomach. “I asked for permission when I came,” she whispered.
“You didn’t keep your hands behind your back.”
“I was going to lose my balance, you bastard.”
“You were given an order. You’ll be punished for your transgression.” He reached across the bed and smoothed her hair, brushing strands back from her cheekbones.
What the hell was wrong with him? He was soothing her, even as he threatened her.
She reached for her robe and dragged it over her. She sat up and scooted away, pressing her back against the headboard.
She saw that his cock had hardened. His threat turned him on. Sick sod.
So what did that say about her that her pussy moistened slightly at the idea of him punishing her? She tried to rid her mind of the thought and all-too carnal images. But part of her wanted to know what he had planned. Part of her hoped he wasn’t just tormenting her.
“Get your sweet little arse across my knee.”
In a very American way, something she learned from Brandon, she said, “Bite me.”
“Right, then.”
He moved fast. Before she knew what he was about, he’d stood and grabbed her. The robe fell onto the carpet. Despite her flailing, he effortlessly managed her. As if she weighed nothing, he sat back on the edge of the bed and turned her over his knee.
She learned her lesson about goading him.
His denim jeans were scratchy beneath her bare skin, and she was aware of the power and strength of his thighs. He was all man. Strong. Unyielding.
She desperately fought for balance, and before she found it his hand came down—hard—on her arse. “Curse you a hundred thousand times!” She kicked her legs futilely.
He placed a hand firmly on the small of her back and spanked her again. This one wasn’t as hard, and in fact it wasn’t totally unpleasant.
She tried to ignore the little voice that reminded her that boring sex and conventional expectations were some of the reasons she’d ended the relationship with Donal.
She’d wanted to experience more.
He stroked her pussy. “You’re damp.” He slapped her right butt cheek again. “Cease your struggles and we’ll end this after two more.”
She nodded weakly. She could do this. She wanted it.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
“How will I balance?” she demanded, the words muffled because of her position.
“I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”
> “I’m to blindly trust you, am I?”
“You’re being punished because you didn’t keep your hands behind your back,” he reminded her. “Next time perhaps you won’t forget.”
She knew right then that he was giving her a choice. She might call him names, he might truly be an ogre—with a wart on his nose and all—but he’d made certain she was aroused.
He was as good as his word. He moved a big hand to the side of her ribs and gave her support while she brought back her arms.
“Clasp your hands just above your buttocks,” he instructed.
She shifted her weight so that she was more balanced on the balls of her feet.
Once she was positioned, he moved his hand to the centre of her back. “How many more?” he asked.
“Two. You said two.”
“If you cease your struggles,” he reminded her. “Otherwise we can keep going. It’s up to you, a rún.”
She could do anything for that short a period of time. Caution to the wind, she challenged, “Bring it on.”
He laughed. “Reckless little thing, aren’t you?”
Before she had the chance to answer, he brought his hand down across both buttocks. She yelped and her right foot came off the ground. “That fecking hurt!”
“I imagine it did. It stung my hand.”
She bit back another reply, realising it wouldn’t get her far.
“Settle yourself and let me know when you’re ready for the next one.”
“It’ll be the last one,” she corrected. Her thoughts were becoming fuzzy with all the blood that had rushed to her head.
“If you take it well,” he agreed blandly.
“It’s the last one,” she bit out.
“Let me know when you’re ready.”
“Do your worst.”
She braced herself, tensing her buttocks, but the final blow was nearly gentle. He’d placed it directly on top of the previous one and the sensations ignited her response. She was on the verge of another orgasm.
Instead of pleasuring her like she’d hoped, he helped her to her feet.
She swayed for a few seconds, but he kept a steadying hand on her. The man was pure genius when it came to arousing her. And at the moment he was a pure torment when it came to satisfying her.
“How was your first spanking?”
She might have snarled if she had the energy. But truthfully the man had fulfilled a naughty fantasy. It had been everything she’d imagined. No wonder she’d had trouble finding a man to settle with. She’d been restless with plain man-on-top until he got it done—a couple of minutes if she were lucky—sex. This, this had been so different. He’d been all about her pleasure. Crikey, he hadn’t even undressed. But no way would Sinead admit the truth to Quinn. He’d grin or gloat, maybe even both. Then she’d have to kill him.
Bound and Determined Page 5