I savor the erotic pulse of his tongue between my legs, his hot breath on my thighs as he lifts my hips higher. The first spasm of pleasure makes me jerk my hips. He drops me to the bed.
He wouldn’t tease and not let me come, he wouldn’t.
“Romeo…”
Nooo.
“Give me one good reason I should let you come.”
“Because you’re trying to convince me to marry you and maybe I want this more than I want money.”
Desperate much?
Do I?
“But you’re willful and defiant. I can’t have a disobedient wife.” I can’t tell in the dim light if he’s smiling or not.
He clucks his tongue as he pushes up from the bed. He knows what he’s doing. If my wrists weren’t bound, I’d finish what he started.
In a haze, I watch as he unfastens his belt, the clink of metal ominous in the quiet room. Is he going to fuck me, then? Take me right here, while I’m bound and panting and so wet I’m almost embarrassed?
But he doesn’t reach for his fly. He removes his belt, tucks the buckle in his palm, and wraps it around his fist.
Uh oh.
Shaking his head, he walks around the bed. “If you think I’d let you come after you broke a direct command, we have some work to do.”
I nod. Maybe agreeing with him now will get me what I need. “We do.”
Do we? What am I agreeing to? Damn near anything to get his mouth back on me.
Without warning, he flicks his wrist and the tail of his belt snaps against my breast. I arch and gasp, and before I can recover, he lashes my right breast. My skin throbs. My pussy aches.
“But you’ve punished me,” I whisper, already knowing that he hasn’t punished me enough, not to his satisfaction.
“I’ve begun your punishment, yes.”
Fuck.
I try another tactic. “Maybe you should just… put me over your lap again.”
“You liked that.”
Did I?
“It hurt!” Another whip of his belt makes me scream.
A casual shrug of his shoulder tells me he doesn’t care. Tiny welts rise along my skin, but the pain quickly melds into heat. The thrumming need of my pussy only heightens.
“It should hurt.” The harsh tone of his voice pulses between my thighs, pulsing in tune to the steady lash of his belt on my thighs, my hips, and across my breasts. My ass aches with the memory of another punishment.
“And what if I obey you?” I’m panting. If he breathes on my pussy, I’ll come. Every ounce of blood in my body seems concentrated between my thighs.
“If you obey me, bella, I’ll make you the happiest woman on Earth.” It’s an exaggeration, it has to be, and yet, maybe I believe him.
He doesn’t even know me. How could he know how to make me happy? How does he know what I want?
Bending down, for one perfect moment, he presses his thumb between my thighs, and my hips rise. Heat throttles my ability to speak. I want him so badly it’s painful.
He knows one thing I want, anyway.
He bends down, leaning against his forearm. Small beads of sweat dot his forehead. He hasn’t put that much physical effort into whipping me, and he doesn’t need to. I’m half his size, naked, and restrained. He’s the king of the castle, fully dressed, and wielding a wicked leather belt along with a devilish tongue. Gawd.
“Okay, alright,” I breathe, captivated by the power he holds, mesmerized by the promise of pleasure, greedy for so much more.
He walks over to me with a wicked glint in his eye. Is he going to take his, then? I let my eyes rove over the thick ridge in his pants. His lips are pressed into a tight, firm line, as if concerned that if he allows himself to speak, he’s going to say something he regrets. The bed sags when he sits beside me.
I don’t realize I’m crying until he brushes his thumb across my cheek. “If you don’t like being punished, you’ll remember to obey.”
Is that why I’m crying? I want to claw my way out of my own skin.
He pulls my head back and bares his teeth. “You’ll fucking obey.”
I nod. I’ve seen what happens when I disobey. I wouldn’t say I fear it, but a part of me wonders what it would be like to gain his pleasure, to please him. To obey him. Would it feel nice?
He tips me to the side and slams his palm against my ass so hard I scream. “Don’t try me, Vittoria.”
“Okay!” I nod. A part of this was playing, but he’s not playing now. There’s steel in his tone and undeniable authority in his eyes when he flips me onto my back again.
“Spread your legs.” The rough tone of his voice makes my nipples harden, and my body quickly remembers where this was going, what it wants, how badly I want him. Heat and warmth pool between my legs. My knees part, granting him access.