“What did I say I’d do if you didn’t drop the attitude?”
“No idea. You talk so much shit, I can hardly be expected to remember every single thing you say.”
It’s fighting talk, but as he says it, his nostrils flare slightly and he clenches his jaw a little harder than usual. I know I’m affecting him, and I like it. It makes me hard.
“Isaid, if you keep up the attitude, I’m going to bend you over and spank your ass before I fuck it.” His cheeks pinken and his jaw drops open. He snaps it shut quickly. “Is that what you want?”
He turns his head and drops his eyes to break free of my gaze. I take both of his wrists in one hand and use the other to take hold of his jaw. I twist sharply, forcing him to look at me. He squirms and looks down.
“You know you have to ask for it, Demon. You know that. You know I don’t do anything to you unless I have your permission.”
That incenses a response out of him. “Are you fucking kidding me? You followed me. You drugged me andliterallykidnapped me without my permission? Not only that, once you had me, you drugged me and kidnapped meagain.”
“Fair enough, you’ve got me there,” I chuckle. “It’s true, I watched you and stalked you. When it suited me, I took you. When I needed to move you, I drugged you. And I’ll do all that again if I want to. You know it, and I know it. But what I won’t do, what I won’t ever do, is touch you sexually in a way you don’t ask for.”
His eyes flash with anger and heat. They flick up to meet mine and his hips jerk forward, closing the gap between us. I grind against him and find him as hard as I am. Harder, maybe. I let go of his jaw and he immediately turns away from me again, but this time he arches his neck as he does it. I trace my fingers along the slender lines of his throat.
“You don’t have to say it,” I murmur as I plant soft kisses behind the shell of his ear, “all you have to do is nod. Nod if you want it, and I’ll give it to you.”
He swallows hard. It looks like the kind of swallow that doesn’t go down easily. I kiss him again, and as I do I feel him take a quick breath and give a sharp, deliberate nod.
Chapter 15
Demon
“Getthatoff.”Hemotions to my pants. When I don’t move as fast as he wants me to, he releases my wrists and yanks my pants and underwear down to my ankles. He does it hard. Hard and fast. So fast, I’m hit by a cold blast of air and my dick bounces back and slaps up against my belly. “Kneel on the sofa and wait for me.”
I’m hit by a wave of arousal that’s so strong it feels thick and heavy as it courses through my veins. I step out of my pants. I’m awkward about it, but I don’t care because he’s looking at me the way I’ve always, always wanted to be looked at.
Hungry.
Thirsty.
But more. More than that. He looks like he wants to consume me. To own and control me. He looks like he’ll die if he doesn’t. It isn’t the first time a guy has looked at me likethat. Guys look at me like that all the time. Obviously. What makes it different this time, is that this time, for the first time, the guy who’s looking at me like that looks like he might actually have what it takes to do it.
Tiny wings jostle low down in my belly and start to flutter as I walk to the sofa. It’s one of those sofas with good bones. Good structure. Good style, though it pains me to admit it. Vintage leather, aged to perfection. I kneel on it, like he told me to. It feels cool under my knees but quickly warms to my skin. The house is light and airy. High ceilings, chalky white walls and sweeping views of the lake. I can’t see any other houses, but I feel skittish kneeling on the sofa like this. It feels like someone could see me. I’m naked from the waist down and that makes me feel more exposed than I would if I was completely naked. I tug at my tank, pulling it down in the front to offer some modesty.
I look over at him and see that he’s gone back to unpacking groceries.
The fuck?
I glower at him with pure hate. He either doesn’t notice, or he does an astonishingly good job of pretending he doesn’t. I get increasingly irate as I watch him unpack. He does it with care. Sorting fruit and vegetables in the fridge, placing dry goods in the pantry, straightening out cans, arranging them so their labels line up perfectly. By the time he collapses the shopping bags and wipes down the kitchen counter, I’m pulsating with anger.
How dare he ignore me?
How dare he strip me, threaten to spank me, and then ignore me?
I almost laugh at how ridiculous he is. He acts all tough, but I’m willing to bet he’s just like every other guy I’ve asked to spank me in the heat of passion. I’ll bet he’s planning to give me two or three apologetic little whacks on the rear and then stick his dick in me. I’ll bet his big plan is to slap me a few times on the out-thrust as he fucks me. Nothing infuriates me more.
That isnota spanking, people!
I’ll bet that’s his pathetic idea of what he thinks I want. I’ll bet he thinks that makes him kinky. I swear here and now, that if he does that to me, I’m going to laugh at him. I’m going to laugh in his face. I’m going to tell him he’s pathetic and I’m going to tell him to get his hands off me, even if it kills me. It’s one thing to seduce me with soft kisses, broken noses, and brute strength, it’s another thing entirely for him to trample on my first and favorite kink and not have the balls to follow through.
He dries his hands, then folds the hand towel in half and hangs it up carefully over the handle on the oven door. He looks at me. His features are neutral. Eyes, mouth, jaw; the picture of neutrality. He starts to move towards me and the wings from before flutter more. Harder. I feel hot under my skin. My chest, neck and face are all burning, because as pathetic as he is, I’m the one kneeling on a sofa with my ass out, dressed like Winnie-the-fucking-Pooh.
I watch him as he walks over. His eyes are dark, as always. Brown. Mud brown. His lips are set into a straight line. His movements are purposeful and sure.
Wait, is he trying to look stern?
