I was sweating from the exertion, half laughing as beads slipped from my face onto her back.
She hissed when they did, tossing her head from one side to the other. “You’re a horrible man.”
For all her exclamations, she was only becoming wetter, the scent roaring into my senses. My breathing was labored and for the first time that I could remember, my goddamn vision was foggy. From desire? Evidently.
I smacked her four more times. Her bottom was red and no doubt the marks would linger for several hours. Should I feel like the bad guy here? Nope. She’d started this fight.
This lover’s quarrel.
I stopped long enough to catch my breath. We were both breathing hard. As my gaze lowered to between her legs, I caressed her skin. Hot to the touch, I was suddenly lost in an intense desire. When I placed the spatula next to her on the island, she tried to jerk away as she’d done before.
“Let me go, Christian.”
“Not yet.” I took a deep breath and placed my hand between her legs, cupping her wet mound.
She immediately stiffened, sucking in her breath as if I’d slapped her. That was the furthest thing from my mind. I took my time caressing her pussy, using a single finger to swirl around her clit.
Almost instantly her cries of anger turned into ones of desire. I sensed she was trying to hide it, completely tense as she pushed her palms against the counter.
“You can’t…” She stopped herself and I noticed she’d closed her eyes.
“You’re wet for me.”
“Not for you. Never for you.”
“I find that hard to believe since my fingers are coated with your juice.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she spit out.
“Ah, you’re just the kind of woman who reacts favorably to harsh discipline. I’ll keep that in mind. When you’re a good little girl and face your discipline obediently, maybe you’ll be rewarded.” I did so enjoy tormenting her. While she rarely took the bait, this time I was rewarded with several expletives pushed from deep within.
I pinched her clit and she stopped moving altogether. Still panting. Her eyes still closed. Unable to control my actions, I drove two fingers into her wetness, marveling at the way her muscles clamped down immediately. My mouth was still watering, but I was enjoying myself too much to stop what I was doing.
I snatched the spatula, rolling my fingers across the smooth, polished wood. No splinters. No chance of hurting her.
At least from what I had in mind.
Using my knee, I kicked her legs wider apart. I expected her to close them immediately, but without being told to stay in position, she kept them right where I placed them. Now she was wide open and exposed and I was in utter agony from need.
As I rubbed the handle of the spatula against her pussy, she curled her fingers and her back rose and fell from her labored breathing.
I pushed the implement past her folds, still moving gently as her juice slickened the handle.
“Yes, very wet.”
“As I already told you, not for you.” Yet repeating the words didn’t make them any truer.
Her strangled whisper was beautiful music. I was close to panting myself, not from excessive exertion, but from hunger furrowing from deep within.
The wry smile remained as I took my time, teasing her with the very end of the handle. As she’d done before, she stiffened, now taking short, deliberate breaths.
When I pushed the handle into her tight channel, she didn’t move at first. I released my hold on her back, eager to see how she’d react. I wasn’t disappointed. She lifted her pelvis, forcing the implement even deeper inside.
Fuuuuck. I was too far gone, wired from electricity and a longing so intense the moment felt suffocating.
“You can’t… Do this,” she whispered.
Leaning over, I eased hair from falling across her beautiful face. I needed to see her expression. I longed to hear her cry out my name, begging me for more. “You seem to forget. My house. My rules.”
