I inhale sharply. “Do what you need to do.”
In a flash, I’m in his arms, and he’s carrying me to his bedroom. He throws me on the bed and tugs off my shoes, slacks, and panties. I spread my legs, giving him full view of my arousal. Just his words, his smoldering gaze, his domineering countenance, make me wet. So wet.
He closes his eyes and inhales. “You smell like heaven. I’d love to taste you, Skye. Give you a hundred orgasms like last time, but that wouldn’t be punishment. So I’m going to spank you. Then I’m going to fuck you hard and fast and take my own pleasure.” He unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly. He yanks his pants and underwear over his muscled hips. His dick is fully erect, and a small pearl of clear liquid emerges.
He tosses me over onto my stomach, and before I can even anticipate what’s to come, his palm comes down on my ass.
“Ow!” I cry out.
Another slap. Then another. I grit my teeth to stop from shouting again. I can take this. I want to take this. I want to give him what he needs. And I deserve it. I’m the one who did something wrong.
“Gorgeous,” he rasps. “So pink.”
The pain from his smacks turns to a tingling sting, a warming sensation. He slaps me again and then once more.
I brace for another—almost crave another—but he flips me back over so I’m lying on my back.
He pushes my legs forward and thrusts into me.
I cry out at the invasion—the burning invasion that makes me feel so complete.
He fucks me hard. He fucks me fast.
And with my legs pushed so far forward, his pubic bone doesn’t nudge my clit.
Still, I climb the invisible mountain, edging toward the peak. I can get there. I can get there…
Except I don’t get there.
He releases inside me, groaning, cursing my name, embedding himself in my body and taking his own pleasure.
Leaving me hanging.
My ultimate punishment.
It’s no less than I deserve for violating his trust and stealing a piece of mail—a piece of mail that turned out to be useless anyway.
When he finally stops pulsing, he stays inside me for a moment, his eyes closed and his hands clamped onto my thighs. I lever myself against his strength, trying to move my clit forward. I’m still turned on. If I can just find something to grind against…
But he pulls out then and opens his eyes.
Leaving me wanting.
Which was his intention the whole time.
I say nothing. I told him to do what he needed to do. I gave him permission. My body may be on fire, but I’ll never beg him for an orgasm.
At least not tonight.
He pulls up his pants and fastens them. “Have you eaten?” he says nonchalantly.
His voice is so calm, as if he didn’t just spank me and withhold my orgasm. I’m still naked from the waist down, my legs still spread, his semen seeping out of me. “Well…no. Not yet.”
“Get dressed. Marilyn is off this week, so I’ll order something.”
Chapter Forty
He leaves the bedroom.
I lie still for a moment. The phantom imprint of his hand on my ass still stings but in a good way. I stare at the unusual contraption above his bed. Does he ever use it? And what exactly does it do?
Still so much I don’t know about this enigmatic man I’ve become addicted to.
I could lose my heart, and I’m not sure he’ll ever be able to give me his. A wave of sadness sweeps over me. At least he desires me. I can live with that. For now. Indeed, I’m lucky his desire is so strong, otherwise my mail stunt might have cost me something much more than a missed orgasm.
I pick up my clothes and head to the master bathroom. I clean myself up and run Braden’s brush through my hair. My lipstick is still intact.
Of course it is. He didn’t kiss me.
Does he miss our kisses as much as I do?
Is this truly all physical for him?
How can I feel this much for a man I know nothing about? Am I mistaking our physical chemistry for something more?
I don’t have any answers for my own questions.
I leave the bedroom and find Braden at the bar pouring two Wild Turkeys.
“There you are,” he says. “I ordered Thai food.”
I nod. “Sounds delicious.”
He hands me a glass. “Wild Turkey goes great with Thai.”
I smile. “Wild Turkey goes great with everything.” I take a sip and let the amber liquid sit on my tongue for a minute. The smoky caramel flavor soothes my nerves. I swallow, and it burns my throat. In a good way.
He takes a sip.
The silence grows in the room, like a rain cloud above us about to let loose at any moment.
Or is it just me?
Braden seems perfectly fine saying nothing.