He’d learned early on that when a submissive dropped an unintentional hint or said something then wanted to take it back, more times than not, it was a desire that scared her. Which meant it was what he most needed to give her. And Tessa had slipped when she’d said she didn’t want him calm. His anger had affected her in a way she may have not understood, but he’d seen the reaction.
The little whisper of roughness, of violence, had made her challenge him instead of shrinking away. And it’d flipped every single one of his dominance switches. He’d been keeping his sadistic side mostly in check around her because he didn’t want to scare her. But she’d shown the most important component of all tonight. She trusted him. At the most basic level, she knew that she was safe with him.
And then she’d asked for it. Asked for what he so needed in that moment after Doug had left. Maybe I don’t want you to be calm. It had broken open something inside him and the part of him he usually kept locked away, even at The Ranch, had trampled through the door.
So now when he ran the knife under her bra strap, he prayed that he hadn’t misjudged her signals. Because he was pushing her far beyond where they’d ever treaded before. But when he turned the blade, careful to hold the sharper edge away from her skin, and sliced through the bra strap, the quiet whimper she made was the perfect kind of fear.
“Brave girl,” he said softly.
“Or a stupid one,” she murmured, her body as still as a stone but her tone sardonic.
He smirked and smacked her across the fleshy part of her thigh. “Not nice to talk back.”
But in truth he loved that her defenses were rushing up. The more sarcastic she got, the more he was getting to her and the more what had happened outside was becoming a distant memory for him. He hooked the band of her underwear with his finger, pulling them away from her waist, and ran the knife through them. Yes, he could’ve just taken them off of her. But he knew well how powerful a mental image could be. Cutting her clothes off sent a clear message—your things and normal protections are worthless right now, you own nothing, only I can give and take away. He set the blade on the dresser and then tugged the scrap of panties away. The satin was soaked against his palm.
He had to swallow back the groan at the victory. His instincts had been right. “Do you know what it does to me to see how wet you are right now?”
“You’re a bad, bad man, Mr. Vandergriff.”
He pressed his lips together, trying not to smile, and unhooked his belt buckle. “Keep up the sarcasm and see how that works out for you.”
At the sound of the leather belt pulling out of the loops, she lifted her head and peered back over her shoulder. He looped the belt and tucked the buckle into his hand. All shreds of attitude fell away from her, self-preservation kicking in. “Kade . . .”
“Do you have a vibrator, Tess?”
She blinked. “What?”
“Simple question.”
She pressed her face back into the comforter as if she were too embarrassed to say it to his face. “Bedside table, top drawer.”
He headed over and pulled the little pink bullet out of its clear box. Simple and utilitarian. Perfect. What he was about to do to Tessa was not meant to be a punishment. Even if she didn’t realize that yet. But it certainly would be better with a little extra motivation.
He walked behind her again and gave her a little pop on her left ass cheek. “Lift your hips.”
She pushed up on her toes and did as she was told. He rubbed the rounded tip of the vibe against her slick folds and her fingers curled into her comforter. He hadn’t even turned it on yet, and already she was desperate for it.
“Put your hands beneath you and hold this against you. Don’t move it away unless I tell you. Understand?”
“Yes.” She nodded against the sheets and slipped her hands downward, pinning her arms beneath her body and taking the vibrator with her. She adjusted into a position that allowed her to hold it where she needed, and he turned it on. She jolted and her knees buckled slightly before she regained her balance. “God.”
“So keyed up already. But no coming until I tell you.” He coasted his hand over the curve of her ass, while the belt buckle warmed in his other palm. “Now, ask me to hit you.”
“What?” Her voice held disbelief. “Why would I ask for it?”
He ran the loop of leather along her spine, barely brushing her skin, and smiled when she visibly quivered. “Because it’s what you want. You didn’t goad me outside and tempt me while I was angry, so I’d come in here and be sweet and cuddly. Correct?”
Her back rose and fell with quick but deep breaths. “No.”
“Then ask for what you want, and you may be lucky enough to get it.”
She was quiet a few long seconds, only the soft hum of the vibrator filling the room, but then she rallied her nerve. “Please hit me. I want you to.”
His blood surged at the admission, his cock throbbing against his zipper and his heart knocking against his ribs, but he didn’t make a move yet. “Why?”
“Goddammit, can’t you just do it?” she asked, defensiveness edging her voice. “I don’t want to think about why.”
But he wasn’t in the mood to let her get away with that. What he wanted to do with her was not for the faint of heart. He needed to hear that this was more than just curiosity or some show of bravado. “Nope. Try again.”