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Just once, without protest, just to see.
“What the fuck are you thinking?” He slides the palm of his other hand down my stomach and to the wetness between my thighs. He slips a finger along the line of my slit and a moan breaks free.
“Not your business, Sir.”
He smiles. “A stupid man might think you’d just given up or were biding your time to fight back. But the way you’re rubbing against my hand makes me think you just want to get fucked. Like you want to play with fire.”
Malone brushes his lips over mine. “Go to the bedroom, and get on the bed on your back with your hands up over your head.”
I swallow. “And?”
“You said you wanted to get to know me. I’m giving you a chance.” His lips lift. “That’s a lie. I want to see what you like, test your boundaries.”
I swallow hard again, and every nerve jumps and twitches.
I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. I just do as he ordered.
Because I know what he’ll do if I don’t. And I’ll wind up on my back one way or another.
I walk down the hallway to the bedroom, my heels clacking against the white oak floor as I try not to think about how weirdly freeing it is to be naked in heels. I fall backward onto the mattress.
The moment I close my eyes, it’s like the world shifts, slips, and becomes something else, where it’s just me breathing, the scrape of air as it moves in and out of me. The tiniest sound winds my nerves like a jack-in-the-box, ready to spring. And then he’s there.
I don’t hear him. But I feel him. Like cool water lapping against me, like the moment is here. I don’t know what the moment is except it’s him. Looking down at me.
I don’t need to see him to know that. He shifts the molecules in the room, in the air, in me. He takes space and feeds it to himself until the world consists only of him and me and pure anticipation.
The bed dips slightly, and instinctively I spread my legs to accommodate so he can move between them. And then his heat envelops me as the bed on either side of my head dips.
I can feel the warm air of his breath, the perfume of the peaty scotch and the remnants of tobacco. And then he touches my hands, puts something on them, something soft, and the binds tighten as he secures me so I can’t touch him.
My eyes flutter open and the green reaches down into me. “Close your fucking eyes, Red.”
I do.
His lips come down on mine, a soft kiss that invades secret places. He teases my tongue with his before he lifts up, breaking the kiss.
“I can be cruel,” he whispers, sucking my lower lip. “Or kind. I can be soft or hard, give pleasure or pain. Take or give. What I do is up to me. How I want to do it.”
The soft slide of material touches me, a caress of the senses, and he slips what I think is his tie around my eyes and secures it, blindfolding me. Then he kisses me again.
“That’s up to you, Scarlett,” he says. “I know you want me, maybe as much as I want you. I get it, it’s a shock, unwanted need, but it’s there. So I don’t mind you playing the brat or talking back, within reason.
“I don’t mind because I like to inflict punishment and pain, test your limits. Just like I enjoy giving you pleasure. But whether I spank you in punishment with an endgame of getting you off and making you squirt, or I spank you to cause your ass to ache enough so that you’ll wish you had a cushion at all times to sit on is up to you.”
“Squirting’s a myth,” I rasp, voice scratching.
As he moves, his shirt touches my breasts, and his mouth slides against my ear.
“Not a myth and challenge accepted. You will squirt for me.”
Malone stops speaking… with words. Instead, he speaks with his finger and tongue and lips, and he sears a path into my skin, waking everything as he meanders down over my breasts, my ribs, hips, and stomach until he’s between my thighs. I almost explode as he starts to lick.
All along my pussy lips, inside and out of the folds, then up to my clit. It’s an awakening. All my thoughts and sensations are focused there, on what he’s doing.
He licks and sucks and kisses. And then, oh fuck, he thrusts two fingers in me. I expect them to move hard and fast. But instead, they move with soft and slow and measured strokes and I’m barreling hard toward an orgasm, everything heavy and aching for release.
“So fucking pretty.” The words are against me, a vibration on my clit as he works me, rubbing something deep inside that makes me roll up my hips as much as he’ll let me.
