Rather than respond to her words, Grant closed one of his big hands in her short hair and dragged her, crawling, to the edge of the bed, then urged her to the floor. Her already hot body flared out of control, molten and liquid in response to his rough, impersonal handling and the pain.
“Open your mouth.”
“No!” That wasn’t what she wanted! “Please, you can do anything you want to me, just please let me come!”
“I know I can do anything I want to you. We negotiated that last night, remember? You have very few limits for a woman who claims to know me.” One corner of his mouth tilted in a lazy smile that made her want to smack him across his beautiful face. “Now kneel pretty for me and open your little mouth.”
Groaning, she knelt properly, spreading her knees as far apart as they would go, straightening her spine and opening her mouth even though she was glaring. He stood above her gazing down imperiously, and she couldn’t help the way it made her squirm. He pushed his boxers down just far enough to bare his dick, then ran his hand over his length before wrapping his hard-on tight in his fist. The head of his cock was too far away for her to lick, and for some reason that frustrated her more. Waiting passively for him to fill her mouth wasn’t what she wanted, and it was actually contrary to her nature. When she tried to move, to get closer and take a more active role, he grabbed her hair and used it to keep her away.
“Did I say suck, or did I say open your fucking mouth?”
She clamped her mouth shut. Grant chuckled and pressed his thumb against her chin. Like magic, her mouth popped open, completely against her will.
Her own involuntary sound of distress made her shudder.
Wetness trickled between her thighs. Noo . . . was she making a puddle on the floor? It had been a long time since anyone had denied her something she really wanted, and the fact that he could control her and wasn’t interested in giving her what she wanted was refreshingly frustrating.
He jerked his big cock with his fist, keeping her teeth apart with his thumb and forefinger. His breathing was becoming ragged, his hips bucking sometimes as though the sight of her on her knees with her mouth pried open was almost too much for him to handle.
“Whatever you don’t swallow,” he rasped, “you’re either going to lick off the floor or wear for the rest of the day.”
She tried to bite his fingers, but his grip was stronger than her teeth.
“You’d better open wide or I’m going to come all over your pretty face. I hear getting come in the eye is a real bitch.”
When she tried to jerk her head away, he hooked his fingers hard in her mouth, and for a moment she felt like the muskie on the lodge’s welcome sign.
The rhythm of his hand faltered, and his hips gave one last buck, then come spurted, scalding her tongue, her lips, one cheek, her mouth again. He growled in satisfaction, as though the sight of his come on her was the most satisfying sight in the world. With unnecessary roughness, he grabbed her jaw and forced it closed, his gaze harder than his still rampant erection.
“Swallow it,” he commanded, his low voice lower than usual, gravelly and fierce.
She obeyed, not willing to pay the price he would exact for noncompliance. She could tell he wasn’t in the mood to put up with her shit, no matter how fucking adorable it would be to spit a mouthful of come back in his face. She liked being a bad girl, but there were times where it was cute and funny, and times where her ass didn’t want to suffer the consequences of her actions.
“Oh, fuck. Good girl,” he purred, cupping the side of her face in his hand and using his thumb to rub the stray come on her cheek into her skin.
He picked her up off the floor as if she was a toy he’d dropped, and put her on her hands and knees on the bed. When she tried to scramble away, he smacked her ass so hard she could feel the outline of his hand throbbing and burning. He positioned her facedown, ass up, angling her sideways on the mattress.
“You need to stay just like this while I brush my teeth and take a piss. If you move you’re not going to like what happens. No touching yourself.”
“You’re an evil, evil bastard, Ellis.”
“What did you call me?” he asked, his tone dangerous.
“Sir?”
“Funny, that’s not what I thought you said.”
“It was the sexual frustration talking, your eminence.” She couldn’t help the mouthiness. She really couldn’t.
He snorted, but rather than spanking her again, he just pushed down on her lower back, forcing her to arch, which put her ass on indecent display. He brushed his fingertip over her asshole, and she squealed and flinched, but didn’t move out of position.
“What is your unholy fascination with my ass?”
“I have an unholy fascination with pretty much every inch of you, but I can tell that ass play still has the power to make you uncomfortable.”
Why did the man have to be so damn perceptive?
“And don’t try to hide the mess your pussy is making. I like knowing that no matter how bratty your mouth is trying to be, your body is loving every minute of this.”
“It’s not my fault my body likes stupid things!” she shouted after his retreating back. Was he going to keep her like this all day? No wonder the man was always single! A Dominant couldn’t just keep a submissive hot and needy like this indefinitely.
Actually, she knew a lot of Dominants were into edging. She’d just always been the kind of girl who could convince them they liked giving her orgasms better than they liked watching her suffer. It was a gift, really.
Despite the fact that her arousal was cooling on her thighs, her insides weren’t cooling at all.
The big dumb jerk. She lay there, seething, waiting for him to come back. Far too aware that when he did come back he was going to get an eyeful yet again. What would he do? Would he fuck her right away or would he torture her some more? Maybe punish her for being mouthy?
She groaned. Waiting was the worst.
Shifting slightly, she tried to get one of the blanket folds out from underneath her knee without moving enough for him to notice the difference when he got back. She wriggled uncomfortably, his last touch on her asshole lingering as though he’d left the ghostly touch of his fingertip behind to torment her while he was in the bathroom.
She kept thinking about how fast and needy he’d been when he’d shoved into her ass on the hood of her car. How uncomfortable it had been and how small it had made her feel. His body had forced hers to let him in, even though he was too damned big. She shuddered with humiliated, anxiety-tinged arousal, wondering if he planned to take her that way as soon as he came into the room. He’d walk in and climb up behind her on the bed and force his bare, pierced cock into her ass with little to no prep. It would burn and hurt so bad, but he was so much larger than her she’d be completely helpless and—
“Little miss Arabella, would you care to share with the class exactly what has you dripping all the way down your leg?” his rough, mockery-laced voice came from behind her, startling the hell out of her. “What are you daydreaming about, young lady?”
A shudder ran through her. There was no way she could ever tell him that what he’d done to her in the parking lot had starred in her spank bank ever since it’d happened. It wasn’t just her body that loved stupid things. Her mind loved its own fair share.
“You’re too young to make the lecherous professor thing work for you,” she informed him tartly, hoping to distract him from his question.
“You’re such a bad girl, but I bet you could find some creative ways to get your sexy ass out of detention.”
She closed her eyes and willed herself not to squirm. At this point she was so hot, he could recite his grocery list and it would turn her on.
“So what are we doing today?” she asked. When he didn’t respond, she looked at him through her spread legs. His gaze wa
s locked to all of her intimate bits, as though he was trying to memorize her body.
“Hands and knees.”
She rose onto her hands and he tapped her lower back to make sure she maintained the arch he wanted.
“When I tell you to present for inspection this is the position I want you in.”
“Um, okay?” Her voice had come out a bit hoarse, so she cleared her throat. “Are you big on inspections?”
Rather than respond, he ran his hands over her skin, from wrist to shoulder, skimming her back, over her ass and down her leg to her ankle. It made her think of how people checked over racehorses. His hands were rough and big and hot. What was he even checking for? Then again, maybe that wasn’t the point as much as making her feel like property.
He groped her breasts, flicking her nipple rings and tugging on them until she whined from the heat it sent to her pussy. When she shifted, he gave her ass a warning smack.
“Did I give you permission to move?”
“I wasn’t moving, I was just squirming a little. You can’t expect me to just hold still when you’re doing that! I’m—”
“Shut up.”
She sighed theatrically, but did as he’d commanded.
When he poked his fingers into her mouth and ran his fingertip along her teeth, she glared at him.
“Open wide.”
Seriously? So humiliating!
She opened her mouth and he looked inside. Was he going to holler in there to see if she echoed? Humiliated, she closed her eyes. In all the years she’d been a submissive, she’d never had the inside of her mouth inspected. Weird man.
“Good girl.” He closed her mouth and patted her chin, pleased, and she had to stop herself from getting all fluttery over the praise. How could she be falling under his spell already? No, this was bad!
He drew a line down the dip of her back, starting at the top of her neck and stroking downward, as though checking the straightness of her spine, knowing he was headed for her ass and yet helpless to stop him.
Inspections were usually so boring, and yet, she was about to go out of her mind with lust. Ridiculous. She seemed to have no control over her reactions to him.
He moved behind her and pulled apart her labia, inspecting her there, too, giving her no way to hide how turned on she was. The scent of her own arousal filled her nostrils and she closed her eyes in humiliation.
“So small here. How do you even take me?” He slid a finger into her and met no resistance because she was so slick, then a second finger, stretching her, but frustratingly not fucking her with them. As if he was measuring or something? Fuck. What was he thinking about doing to her?
His thumb came down on her anus and rubbed in small, teasing circles. She tensed, all too aware of what she’d been fantasizing about, and his responding chuckle feathered breath over her ass cheeks.
“Every time I touch you here”—he rubbed the pad of his thumb back and forth over her asshole—“your pussy squeezes so tight. I should play with your ass while I fuck you from behind. Would you squirm for me and try to get away, or would you just milk my cock with your tight little cunt?”
His crude words made her pussy clench, and he chuckled, as though he’d made her do a clever trick. Jerk.
Her ears burned with embarrassment. She opened her mouth to say something sarcastic, but his other hand came up between her thighs, his fingers finding her clit where it pulsed sulkily, and tapped it far too gently.
“No, no,” she begged as he kept up his torment. A finger tapping her clit, a thumb brushing gently against her asshole, two big, motionless fingers stiff inside her. She fought her impulse to struggle, half wanting to crawl away, half wanting to fuck herself on his fingers.
“That isn’t the safeword we agreed on, pixie girl.” He said something else about needing to see her pussy and ass pulse when she came but she couldn’t hear him right over the roaring in her ears.
Her entire mind and body laser focused on his fingers that seemed to be everywhere at once—inside her, brushing over her ass, tapping a persistent rhythm on her painfully engorged clit. From between her legs she watched him. God, his face was so close to her ass, observing the havoc he was wreaking with the fascination of a sadistic scientist on the verge of an important discovery. Every time her eyes squeezed closed, she would force them back open to watch him.
Finally, frustratingly, she was hovering on the brink, and his expression shifted from clinical to a sadistic leer.
“You’re hating this, and yet you’re going to come for me, aren’t you?” he crooned. “You can’t even help yourself.”
His fingers stopped and withdrew.
She screamed and tried to turn over, but he kept her on her hands and knees, the ripple of her ruined orgasm nothing but an involuntary contraction of muscles without the satisfaction she needed so badly. She raged at him, fought him, but he only quietly held her in place. He spoke to her, quiet, meaningless words about how he was sorry but that it was good for her.
Good for her? Had he actually just said that?
Eventually, he let her turn onto her back. She watched him in disbelief as he rummaged around in her duffel bag and came back with a stack of clothes. He slid a pair of panties up her legs, pulling them so high they snugged uncomfortably against her swollen clit. From there, he tugged her socks on, and then some leggings, finishing the outfit with an ultrathin T-shirt that she usually wore layered. With no bra, the almost-sheer white fabric would have gotten her arrested in public. When she was dressed, he grabbed her ankle and dragged her to the edge of the bed, then put her sneakers on her feet.
Although she sulked, he ignored it, and towed her through the halls and downstairs to the kitchen as she plotted painful and exotic ways to kill him.
Chapter Twelve
Grant left Arabella grumbling under her breath and cooking him breakfast in the kitchen, doubtlessly contemplating the most painful poison she could add to his food. He chuckled at how pissy she was. She claimed to want him, and knew what he was capable of, so he wasn’t sure why she was so surprised.
As he searched through the lodge for possible items to put in an impromptu toy bag, he was once again thankful that he’d paid the extra money to have the old owners leave almost everything behind. Every time he wished he’d brought something with him he found one of whatever it was tucked away in a closet or a corner. They’d left everything down to and including T-shirts and mementos in the gift shop. Condoms would have been nice, but then again, the idea of being bare inside her? He groaned and kept shopping.
In the gift shop, he claimed a camo duffel bag with the Lucky Muskie logo on it, then went back to the kitchen and pilfered a wooden spoon and a bread paddle before heading down to the first of several storage rooms. There, he found a few new coils of rope still in the packaging, some chain, a few likely sized locks and their keys, and a whippy length of fiberglass that was probably meant to turn into a fishing pole but didn’t have any metal parts on it yet. For a few minutes he’d eyed the many sealed packages of fishing hooks, then decided to play it safe, considering how far they were from emergency medical assistance. He found several other odds and ends that he threw into the bag, and was halfway tempted to go looking for a canoe paddle just to be funny. He doubted Arabella would be in the mood to joke around.
Undoubtedly, she just thought he was exercising his rights to be the asshole Dominant, especially after he hadn’t fucked her last night either. Yes, he was into orgasm denial, but in this instance that wasn’t the reason why he’d held out.
The truth was, he’d whimped out twice.
Even though he was getting close to thirty, he’d never had unprotected sex before and he’d freaked himself out at the last minute. Sure, driving her crazy was fun, and not an unusual hobby of his when it came to submissives; however, this time it had been nothing more than cowardice. He wasn’t sure what he
was nervous about. He trusted that she’d told him the truth, so it wasn’t the risk that made him hesitate. And fuck, he wanted to slide inside of her and feel every single bit of her.
Arabella wasn’t the first person who had asked him to do it, but she was the only one he’d seriously considered following through with. For some reason, it felt like something more meaningful than just sex that way, and he was already way too vulnerable where she was concerned. He didn’t plan to back out, but when it had come to that moment—first last night, and then this morning—he’d balked.
Situations like this always made him feel stupid.
As a Dominant, there was a lot of pressure to be perfect and to know exactly what he was doing all the time. To have himself under control. To know everything. But sometimes he didn’t feel any more self-controlled than he had as a teenager. He wasn’t sure when he was supposed to have learned the finer parts of being a self-possessed master, but some of the submissives he’d spent time with at the club had started calling him master and the title had stuck. There were times he felt like a sham.
He was just an evil, sadistic bastard who liked to cuddle. Taking care of a woman after he’d torn her down was only right.
The one time he’d worked up the nerve to discuss it with Will, his brother had assured him that most Dominants he knew felt the same way, but that didn’t mean he wanted Arabella to know. Feelings of insecurity were normal even in a Dominant, but they soured the experience for the submissive, in his opinion.
Then there was his current predicament. Funny how something so vanilla would be the first sexual thing to make him feel like an idiot in the past few years.
Maybe because his only serious relationship had been with a client, he’d never gotten past the idea of using protection. He’d fucked plenty of girls in high school, after he’d been kicked out of Greystone, but he’d always been careful because he hadn’t wanted to get targeted for a paternity lawsuit. Their father had hammered that into their heads pretty thoroughly over the years.
All's Fair in Love and Mastery Page 15
