The idea shouldn’t have been so damn appealing.
But instead of feeling his hands on her, she felt smooth, supple leather brush across the base of her spine. “Lace your fingers together and put your forehead against your hands.”
“Grant, I—”
“Wrong answer.” He planted a hand between her shoulder blades forcing her down into the position. Her blood was roaring in her ears and ribbons of dread curled in her stomach. It was like that moment before she’d bungeed the first time—fear and exhilaration twining together. She laced her fingers together, putting herself in a sort of praying position.
She probably needed to pray.
“Ready to press the escape hatch, Charli?” Grant asked, the question deceptively soft.
Escape. She could walk out right now. Go back to her safe, little existence where she had all the control, where everything was nice and predictable.
“No, sir.” The answer was automatic but truthful. She shifted restlessly, both worried and desperate for whatever was to come.
“We’ll see.”
She heard the belt cut through the air before she felt the blazing sting as it landed across the fleshy part of her backside. The pain radiated like a line of fire over her skin. She cried out and her nails bit into the tops of her hands.
“Count, Charli.”
Her mind took a second to process what he was telling her. Count what? Oh, shit. The hits. There were more coming? “One.”
“One for questioning me.”
The belt came down again, different spot, same wicked bite. She pressed her forehead hard into her hands. “Two.”
“And two for failing to follow a directive after I warned you I don’t like to repeat myself.”
Anger sparked bright within her. Never in her life had she let anyone treat her like she was some misbehaving child. Her own father had never even raised a hand to her. As the only girl left in the household, she’d been treated with kid gloves. She wanted to turn around, rip that belt from his hands, and smack Grant in the head.
But then a low rumble of a noise came from him—something between a groan and a growl. His hands were on her in an instant, large palms massaging the throbbing stripes on her backside, activating a pleasant erotic burn that traveled over her nerve endings. “Oh, look how beautiful you are like this. Your skin gets so pretty and pink.”
The tone and reverence of his voice shot straight to that needy part inside of her, dragging her focus away from any lingering sting and onto the pulsing ache between her legs.
“You ready for me, Charli? Or do you want to leave now that you have a taste of what I’m like?”
She could bail. Probably should. But her feet remained fastened to the floor. This was no longer about winning a challenge. Everything in her ached for him—to experience all of whatever he was. To fall under his dark spell. “I’m ready for you, sir.”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then his low, commanding voice caressed her. “Push up onto your toes and hold that position, darlin’.” She heard the rustle of clothing behind her as he moved. “Remember, no coming.”
She found her bearings on the balls of her feet and gave herself over to the moment. Yes, she’d wandered into uncharted territory. Yes, there would be shit to deal with afterward, but right now all she wanted to do was be there for whatever happened next.
She didn’t have to wait long to find out what he had in mind. Those roughened thumbs of his brushed against her folds and then spread her open from behind. A little noise of surprise eked out of her, and she almost dropped her heels back to the floor. But then his tongue, so hot and adept, was against her. Tasting her. Teasing.
Pleasure shuddered through her, lighting her up like a tree at Christmas. Every sensitive zone on her body perked to attention. Her nipples against the cold granite, the now strangely pleasant burn of the belt marks, the arches of her feet straining, the oh-so-tender skin he licked and nibbled at. Her heartbeat seemed to lodge right behind her clit, the throb becoming a desperate thing.
That urgency was so unfamiliar and unnerving. Guys didn’t do this to her. Orgasms had always been such hard work. A battle. She thought the night in the shower had been a fluke, but he wasn’t even inside her yet and she was ready to detonate.
“Please…” The pressure was building. She only needed the barest shift of his mouth and she would go over.
His tongue slid inside her channel and she moaned, losing her balance for a second. He held her in place, keeping her from slipping to the floor, and fucked her with his tongue. She clenched her threaded hands, the overwhelming need for release making her feel frantic, edgy. Starved.
Just when she thought she wouldn’t be able to hold back anymore, he pulled away, planting a kiss on the back of her thigh. “Heels down.”
She let her feet relax and melted against the counter, her heart pounding like she’d run miles on the treadmill. She didn’t dare get up or look back though. She didn’t want that belt again; she only wanted him.
She listened to him walk back into the living room, the pull of a drawer, then the sound of a crinkling foil as his steps got closer again. A condom. He palmed her hip. “Last chance to back out.”