He lay down next to her and propped his head on his hand, then touched her cheek with his index finger. “Catherine, I love you. You love me. What we’re doing right now is the only thing that does make sense. No matter where you go, my feelings for you won’t change.”
There wasn’t a chance for Catherine to reply or even give his statement the consideration it deserved. Too quickly he stood up and untied the belt holding his robe closed. He pushed it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor in a black heap.
“God, I love looking at you,” she admitted as Dean’s tall, broad-shouldered body was bared to her. Every inch of him was powerful and masculine. He was stunningly naked, and his cock jutted out, swollen and pulsing.
“Touch me,” he bit out.
Ah, he was back in command mode, Catherine realized. It was in the harsh tone of his voice and his compelling, watchful gaze. Still as a statue, hands at his sides, Dean waited for her to obey. It was her move. The only sign of agitation was the clenching of his fists at his sides.
Every fiber in her being sat up and took notice. All of a sudden, she ached to surrender to him. She wanted to prove to him that she trusted him, unconditionally.
Catherine reached a hand out and touched his stomach, anxious to feel his ripped abdominal muscles against her fingertips. Her palm flattened out and massaged over his bulging muscles and wide rib cage. His chest received equal attention. Her fingers sifted through the sprinkling of curls she discovered there. She flicked his left nipple, and he jolted. Catherine’s pussy grew damp at the knowledge that she had the power to make such a strong man jump at the barest of touches.
Dean grabbed her wrist, his warm brown gaze capturing hers while he pushed her hand down his body. “You know what I want,” he gritted out. “Hold my dick in that silky-soft palm, Catherine.”
Catherine had a sudden flash back to the book, when Mira had pushed her master to the breaking point. Should she push Dean? It might be the dumbest thing she’d ever done, but Catherine didn’t want to make it easy, not for either of them. Not tonight. She wanted Dean to capture her, to take her rough and wild, the way Mira’s master had done in the story. It was their last night together, Catherine thought. It only made sense to make every attempt to drive the man crazy.
With that single thought in Catherine’s mind, she asked, “What if I don’t?”
His eyes narrowed and a muscle jumped in his rigid jaw. “What?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Maybe I don’t feel like touching your cock.”
One side of his mouth kicked up. “I bet I could make you want to,” he whispered as he released her hand and took a step back, putting a measure of distance between them. “Move off the bed and get on all fours in front of me,” he softly demanded.
Oops, maybe she’d pushed too far. After all, they both knew that sex games were way out of her range of expertise. She was a simple Southern girl. How was she supposed to give a man like Dean the erotic night he craved?
“Do you need another taste of the riding crop?”
His scandalous words fluttered around in her brain, and Catherine took a second too long to obey. When she got off the bed and started to get down on her hands and knees as Dean instructed, she was surprised to see him walking off. He went to the far corner of the room, and Catherine saw him pick up the leather whip. Her pussy throbbed knowing what would happen next. Dean came back to her and held it at his side, his nostrils flaring as he looked her over from head to toe. Catherine’s body came to life everywhere his gaze roamed.
“Will you take my cock in your hand, sweetheart?”
“No,” Catherine said, knowing full well he would punish her. “I don’t think I will.”
For an instant, Dean’s implacable mask slipped. “I’d never cause you pain, Catherine,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Only a little sting, nothing more.”
Catherine’s heart melted. Even when he was wildly turned on, Dean still sought to reassure her, to comfort her. Her mouth went dry and her throat felt tight when she thought of how much she loved him in that moment. Nervous and even a little scared, Catherine turned her head and murmured, “I know.” A naughty grin crossed her face for a moment before she contained it.
Dean licked his lips and growled, “God, you’re amazing.”
Catherine didn’t reply. She simply turned her head away and waited. She began to lose her nerve when she felt the first strike of the leather. She jerked and her bottom stung. On the heels of that one came another and another. Dean spanked her four more times before he stopped and said, “Mmm, your ass is all pink now, Catherine.” He ran his palm over each cheek, massaging away the sting. “So pink and so damn fuckable.”
An inferno raged inside of Catherine. She was desperate to feel Dean’s cock stretching and filling her. “P-please, I need you.”
“Turn around and face me,” he gently ordered.
Catherine was too turned on to disobey. As she turned around she was faced with a rough and dominating side of Dean. He was ready to take her to new heights of carnal pleasures, and she was more than ready to be taken. He gripped the riding crop in his right hand and stroked her cheek with it. Catherine froze as the leather slid down over her shoulder to her arm. When Dean used the whip to caress her breasts, Catherine moaned.
“Ah, that’s so damn pretty,” he groaned. “Now, touch yourself for me.”
Catherine’s pussy was sopping wet, and she was more than happy to do as she was told. She reached between her legs and smoothed her fingers over her clit, her gaze riveted to his heavy erection the entire time. Dean’s cock was thick and hard.
“Fuck, yeah, you look so damn good like that,” he gritted out.
She bent her head backward to see his face, mesmerized by the feral savagery she witnessed. He looked ready to explode. As she moved her hand over her swollen mound and started to smooth two fingers into her tight opening, Dean gripped a handful of her hair and tugged her head forward, forcing her to look at him. “No more playing, sweets.” She kept her fingers where they were, and Dean growled, “Enough.”
Catherine pulled her hand away and frowned. “Why?”