“I’ll do whatever you tell me to. The worse, the better. I’ve been bad, and I deserve to be punished in a fitting manner,” he said, sounding like he couldn’t wait for me to order him to do something degrading.
I had what was probably a general understanding of brat kink, thanks to a chatty client who bartended at a play club downtown, but I was by no means well versed enough to jump right into the deep end. From what I understood, it was very much a dom/sub relationship in which the sub enjoyed testing their limits and the dom’s patience, and the dom saw their impertinence as more playful than rude. I knew that discipline was part of it, that a dom was meant to punish their bratty sub to teach them better behavior, but... what if I didn’t want Tyler well-behaved? The idea of him suddenly turning nice and compliant didn’t sit right with me, felt like too much of a monumental personality shift.
Did I want him to be his most assholic self? No. But I also didn’t want him to stop pissing me off either, because in those moments when I’d forgotten that he was my blackmailer and we’d just been two people, bickering while simultaneously trying to make the other laugh or break or even scream... I’d forgotten that we weren’t really dating. That we were only supposed to be pretending to like each other. Maybe that was fucked up, but I’d never been overly romantic. I didn’t want flowers and chocolate; I wanted a challenge.
I reached down and threaded my fingers through Tyler’s damp hair, bending his head back to force him to look up at me. His eyes were their deepest blue, pupils wide, expression open and guileless and patient, like he could have stayed like that all night if I told him to.
I’d never seen him so settled, so at peace, and it made me start to believe this might be real.
“I don’t want to hit you,” I said.
“You don’t have to.”
“Degradation, however . . .”
He tried to nod in my hold, but I tightened my fingers so he couldn’t move. “Yes, please.”
“And orgasm denial. You definitely don’t deserve to come.”
“I don’t.”
Fuck, the way he agreed so easily.
“Afterward, we’re talking,” I said.
He wrapped a hand around the back of my calf, rising up just enough for me to see that he was fully aroused. “I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”
Oh, god. Nope. I did not have the willpower to do the right thing and say no. I’d come close to dying today, and right now, I was desperate to feel alive. And, look, how convenient: a gorgeous, willing man on his knees before me.
Was I still fucking furious with Tyler? Absolutely, but the problem was, anger had always been part of the equation when it came to my attraction to him, and that didn’t seem to be changing anytime soon.
I slid my calf out of his grasp and dropped onto the mattress, spreading my legs open right in front of his face. “Lick my pussy, Tyler.”
Without hesitation, he ripped off my sweats and underwear and then shoved me backward on the mattress before crawling onto the bed with me. He ducked between my legs, pushing my thighs up and over his wide shoulders, tipping me back in the process andburyinghis face between my legs. Okay, then, no tame little sub for me. The second his tongue touched the evidence of my arousal, he groaned.
“Tell me you love how wet I am for you,” I said.
“I love how wet you are for me, Stella.” He swirled his tongue around my clit. “How hot.” It dipped into my entrance. “How tight.” A long, seductive stroke back up to my clit, before he paused to toy with it. “I’ve wanted another taste of this pussy since I licked your underwear. It’s all I could think about.” He sank his tongue deep, nose nuzzling my clit.
“Stop,” I said.
He froze, lifted his eyes to mine, and the sight of him, staring up at me like that, his sides heaving from how turned on he was, hands shaking with the need to move, completely undid me. I wanted to grind down onto his face. Wanted to leave him wet and glistening and tell him he wasn’t allowed to clean himself off. Wantedhimto go to sleep withmycum on him.
His eyes darkened, all the warning I had before he flicked his tongue inside me, proving just what a fucking brat he was.
“Sit back,” I said, both pissed,andpleased, which was an odd combination, but I was done suppressing my responses to this man. I presented Tyler with my foot. “Lick this instead.”
Again,nohesitation. He wrapped those big hands around me, one holding up my heel, the other cradling my calf. Still maintaining eye contact, he licked a long, slow line all the way up the underside of my foot.
I propped myself up on an elbow, my other hand sliding between my spread legs. “Clean it.”
Tyler swirled his tongue around my big toe and then sucked it into his mouth, and from the way his eyes closed in bliss, it might as well have been his favorite food. I’d never had anyone do this to me before—no one had ever wanted to—and I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. Especially when he shifted his grip and started massaging my foot simultaneously. There was just something so sinfully hot about it. Maybe it was because it felt slightly taboo. Or maybe it was that my feet had carried my weight for my entire life, and now someone was finally showing them some appreciation for it.
He shifted a little, and the towel finally gave up the fight, falling off him to pool onto the mattress. His dick filled my sight, so big, so hard. Fuck, hereallyliked this.
“Look at me,” I said.
His eyes fluttered open.
