“Sit back on your feet. I’m going to help you up.”
Nyxie righted her torso, her mouth set in a hard, silent line. When he couldn’t quite figure out how to help her up without straining her shoulder joints, he stood, grabbed a handful of her corset, and lifted her to her feet.
“No one can see me now, can they?”
He could tell by her subdued tone that she was unhappy.
“No.”
Declan toyed with telling her the truth, but decided there was time for that later. Tugging on the leash, he led her the few feet to the sofa, and quickly became aware by the way she was limping, that one of her shoes had come off.
“Stop,” he said, smiling widely at her. Had she thought he would try to make her try to find it blindfolded with her arms strapped behind her back? Maybe some other time when he was feeling more playful.
He retrieved the stiletto-heeled pump and squatted down in front of her. His touch to her thigh started feathery soft. It was his intention to run his hand down her leg, but Nyxie twitched at the first contact and a moan emanated from the back of her throat. One hand went to the inside of her leg, the other wrapped around Nyxie to her bottom, alternately palming and squeezing her butt cheek. With his tongue, he traced the skin next her garter, then followed the band of her stocking to her inner thigh. As he worked his way toward her sex, Nyxie’s breath caught and she froze in place, waiting, anticipating. One of his knees dropped to the floor. The hand on her ass pulled her forward and he licked the seam of her outer lips, slowly, expertly. Her legs widened slightly, giving him better access.
Suddenly, he withdrew. Only when he lifted her calf and slipped the shoe back on, did she whimper with unfulfilled desire.
A smile broke out on his face as he rose to his feet. Keeping her sexually aroused and hindered from the stimulation she craved, was a very satisfying game, torturing her the way she tortured him since he first laid eyes on her. She would never understand the yearning he felt for her but at least he could convey the frustration of wanting without receiving. This was not the way this was supposed to happen. He was supposed to come back to Chimera Flats for his ten-year reunion as a doctor who had just opened his new practice. He was going to ask around about her and sweep her off her feet, never to look back. Rejection never entered his mind. “You are going to have to beg me to fuck you. Then you have to beg me to let you come.”
“It’ll be a long night before that’s gonna happen,” she said tightly, her head turning to track his movements by the sound of his voice.
Declan leaned down and spoke directly into her ear. “I certainly hope so.”
Nyxie didn’t know whether it was the breath against her ear and neck, that made the hair on her arms rise up, or if it was his words. Probably a combination of both.
He maneuvered her between the coffee table and the sofa. “Sit down.” When she moved to sit on the couch, he tugged the leash hard enough to stop her progress. “The floor, Nyxie. You will sit at my feet until you are given permission to sit on the furniture.”
“Jeez, is there anything I’m allowed to do without permission?”
“Worship me.”
Declan waited for her sarcastic retort. But it never came.
“I think I need help getting down,” Nyxie said.
“No smartass comment?”
Her head shook back and forth twice. “No.”
With a quick, efficient movement, his hand made sharp contact with her bottom.
“Ow!” Because she had not seen it coming, she had not been able to overpower her body’s natural reaction to pain. “What the hell was that for?”
“What did you just say to me?”
“I said I didn’t have a smartass comment. I wasn’t saying anything about not worshiping you,” she said defensively, her voice rising in protest.
With an exaggerated sigh, he rubbed her quickly reddening butt cheek. “You said, ‘no.’ What is my submissive supposed to say?”
“Oh, shit. Sorry,” Nyxie said, then realized she didn’t say it again. “Sir. Sorry, sir.”
With a hand at her elbow, Declan helped her down. He noticed she tucked one foot under her bottom and sat on the side of the high-heeled shoe rather than sit on the floor itself. He suspected, she chose that position to avoid sitting on the butt plug. She crossed the other leg over the first. Under other circumstances, he probably would have objected to her sitting with her legs crossed so tightly, but with the ointment he had put on her clit, sitting that way was probably its own punishment.
Declan sat down on the sofa and turned on the TV. It was already on one of the sports channels, so he didn’t need to change it. He didn’t care what sport or what teams were playing, he only wanted to see her reaction to being ignored.
“Really?”
“Be quiet, Nyxie, I’m watching the game.”
“But…. Should I go home?”
Declan reached into the hair at the back of her head. His fist formed, grabbing a handful of her silken black locks. With a downward tug to the scruff, he tilted her face upwards. “I’m waiting for you to stop pouting and get back into the proper frame of mind.”
Nyxie’s mouth formed a thin hard line. Normally, she loved it when he grabbed her hair like that and although it wasn’t any more painful, she wasn’t turned on in the least. She hated the way she felt at that moment. His displeasure was palpable. When he was pleased with her, she basked in his praise, but this chasm between them made her feel hollow. There had to be a way for them to get back to where they had been.
When he released her hair, Nyxie lowered her face. She wished he would take off the blindfold so she could see him. Was he simply mad at her or did he hate her? Without seeing him, she wasn’t sure she could gauge the truth.
She anguished over what he had done to her—he had exposed her to anyone and everyone who might’ve been passing at that moment. It was not like him to do something like that. How many times and ways had he indicated he would do nothing that would expose her to others. He said he was an only child and had never learned to share. He promised if he ever took pictures, she would be unrecognizable in them—either extreme close-up, or ones with her face turned away.
She was so mad at him for betraying her trust that she just wanted to kick him in the shins. Her mind kept echoing, why would he do that? Why?”
Nyxie knew she had upset him by wanting to be his submissive rather than his wife. Was he taking out his bruised feelings on her?
She didn’t know why he couldn’t understand she was not wife material—not for someone like him—not for a wealthy, up and coming doctor. She’d like to think she would never intentionally embarrass him by swearing in front of his colleagues or using poor grammar on purpose. Just being herself and so far below him in every way imaginable, was embarrassment enough. Perhaps the way to make him understand was to prove she was a better submissive than she was a wife.
Sitting at his feet blindfolded, she shifted her body around until she found his knee with her head. Despite how uncomfortable the position was with him sitting a bit too far away, she rested the side of her face against his knee. The coarse hairs of his leg felt rough against her cheek, but she didn’t care. She needed the contact to feel closer to him.
When he placed his hand on her head and began stroking her hair, Nyxie began to feel herself relax. She marveled how could such a small gesture make her feel cherished. Being starved for love all of her life, made her appreciate every show of affection, no matter how small.
He muted the TV when the game broke for commercials. “Did you eat before you came over?” he asked.
“I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to, so I ate half a sandwich.”
She could feel him lean forward before settling down in his seat again. “Open your mouth,” he said.
Parting her lips, Nyxie righted her posture. The movement struck off a world of sensation in her clitoris but she managed not to moan.
“Wider,” he said. “It’s more than
one bite.”
She opened wider and he filled the mouth with sweet juicy fruit. She bit off a piece and smiled. Her tongue darted between her lips, trying to catch the juice running down her chin. Holding it on her tongue, she savored the flavor before chewing.
“I love pineapple. Is it fresh? I’ve never had fresh pineapple before.”
“As fresh as you get in a store in Lubbock, I suppose.” He spotted the drip and caught it with his thumb, then bent down and kissed her. “Yum, tropical Nyxie. Maybe someday we can go to Hawaii and see what it tastes like when it’s really fresh. I would love to see you in a grass skirt and coconut bra.”
“Play your cards right, and I’ll dress like that for Halloween.”
“No. I’ll pick out your Halloween costume. If I’m off, and we go to someone’s party, we’ll be wearing related costumes—and there is no way I’m dressing up like a Hawaiian native—and no way you’re dressing like that in front of others. If I’m working… well, you may be wearing head to toe teddy bear or a gorilla costume.”
She laughed but sobered quickly as she realized the way he had just exposed her was much worse than some skimpy Halloween costume.
As if he sensed her sudden return to her pensive mood, he turned the sound back up on the television. He moved down the sofa about half of foot closer and rubbed his leg on the front side of her shoulder until Nyxie rested her head on his knee again. His hand returned to her hair, mindlessly stroking and toying with the soft locks.
He muted the game during the commercials several more times, feeding her nibbles of food from the platter he’d made earlier.
“Would you like to sit next to me on the sofa?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes, sir, please.”
With the impossibly high heels on, he had to help her rise again.
“Sit facing me,” he said.
She lifted her foot to sit sideways on the couch.
“Are you going to put your shoe on the sofa?”
Her foot lowered to the floor. “You didn’t tell me to take them off.”
“You should just know that.”
Her lips tightened. She would have liked to have said, “We only had one chair and I wasn’t allowed to sit in it, so I guess I missed the rules about shoes on the furniture.” Instead, she apologized.
As she lifted her knee, his hand met it and guided her into sitting where he wanted. She lowered herself gingerly, acutely aware of the butt plug. He absently stroked her thighs during the ball game, and continued to feed her during the breaks.
He slipped something into her mouth that she thought felt as if it might be a large green bean. She’d only had green beans out of a can but the waxy texture didn’t really seem right.
“Small bite,” he said.
Nyxie bit it in half with her front teeth and began masticating it with her molars. Suddenly, she gasped, her mouth opening wide. “I need to spit it out,” she said, her voice muffled by the way she held the hot pepper between her teeth.
“Just chew it up and swallow it.”
She made a face and swallowed it. “I don’t like really spicy things. They make my stomach hurt.”
His hand came up in a helpless gesture. “I wish you had told me that before you swallowed it.”
“I’m trying to follow your instructions without talking back.”
Nyxie was breathing through her mouth, a pained expression lowered her brow, forming lines above her nose. “Fuck,” she said.
He watched as her cheeks, chin and ears grew flushed, and sweat formed on her forehead.
“Fuck.” Her voice was high with her distress. Declan jumped up from the couch and hurried into the kitchen. He grabbed a small container of Greek yogurt from the fridge and a spoon from the drawer. He had the lid off before he returned and spooned a bit into her gaping mouth. “Hold it on your tongue before swallowing.”
A minute later, she swallowed, and eagerly opened her mouth for more. When he spooned a large bite between her parted lips, she looked like a baby bird awaiting a worm. As if it was the best thing she’d ever eaten, she hummed with satisfaction. Her tongue darted between her teeth and licked off a bit of yogurt from her lip. He kissed her lips between spoonfuls. After a few bites, her body began to slump with relief.
When she sniffled for the dozenth time, he reached for the blindfold to see if she was crying or if her sinuses were running. She blinked at the sudden invasion of light, her inky eyelashes, clumped with wetness, beating out an irregular tattoo.
“Oh,” he said drawing the word out with a sympathetic inflection. “You poor thing. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would be that hot.”
The sight of tears in her eyes sent a rush of blood to his cock. She looked so fragile and sweet when she cried. He hadn’t made her cry intentionally. Christ, the last thing he wanted right now was to see that look in her eyes that sparked all of his desire for her.
Declan kissed her again, gentle and lingeringly. Her lips mostly tasted of the juicy pineapple he’d given her. He nibbled at her lips and his mouth became more insistent as his desire grew. Her lips parted under the onslaught and his tongue invaded her mouth with an urgent moan. They were breathing hard when the pressure from his mouth on hers, drove her entire body back.
“Oh my God,” Declan said, suddenly withdrawing. “My mouth and lips are on fire.”
Nyxie chuckled slightly. “Welcome to my world? What kind of chili pepper was that?”
“I think it was a Serrano.”
“No wonder. Wouldn’t a jalapeño have been hot enough?”
“I-I just grabbed the smallest one they had. I didn’t realize it was so hot.”
He spooned a bite of yogurt into his mouth and another into Nyxie’s. He opened his mouth after swallowing and began fanning with his hand. “Oh my God!”
She tried to tamp down her smile. “I guess you got bit in the butt by your own punishment.”
“That wasn’t a punishment.” But even as he said it, he knew he was lying. Although he had not consciously thought to punish her with the hot chili, there was part of him that had been amused and reveled at the thought of giving it to her. He had told himself that he wanted to see if she would react to the burning capsaicin with as little acknowledgement as she did to punishment. In truth, he’d been mad and hurt by her rejection and he wanted to hurt her back. Cruelty was not a trait he had ever acknowledged in himself, but there were times when he had made fun of something stupid someone had said. He justified it by saying he didn’t do it to their face, but he knew there were times when his comments had gotten back to the person.
“You’re so beautiful when you cry,” he said, after a couple more bites of yogurt began to cool his mouth. “You are like an orchid wilted in the heat. I just want to tend to you until you recover.”
A myriad of expressions crossed Nyxie’s face. Her eyebrows rose in the middle and her head tilted to one side. “I love you too.”
With a chuckle, he leaned in and kissed her. “Is that what I said?”
“Isn’t it?”
Chapter 13
Declan placed his hand in the middle of her chest and applied pressure until her back and arms rested on the cushions, one foot trapped uncomfortably under her bottom. Nyxie barely noticed anything besides the onslaught of passion as his lips met hers and he kissed her. Her mouth still felt hot in the afterglow of the pepper, but the burn had waned from red-hot fire to burning coals.
Her clitoris ached with need, the ointment inflaming the whole area with pent-up longing. When she thrust her hips forward, trying to grind against him to find the stimulation she craved, her glutes tightened around the plug in her anus. Although she had become more accustomed to its placement, the movement drew her attention. She moaned into his mouth.
“Beg me to fuck you, Nyxie. Beg me to put my dick inside your dripping wet pussy and make you come. I know you’re dying for it.”
She fought the cuffs holding her arms behind her back. If only she could get free, she co
uld push down his boxer briefs, and his cock would strain against her sex. Wouldn’t that show him she wanted him without saying the words? When it was apparent her efforts proved useless, she planted her free foot on the carpet and lifted her pelvis trying to reach him, to ride the bulge in the front of his underwear.
He straightened his legs enough to maintain the distance between them. “Not until you admit you’re a horny little slut,” he said, dragging his mouth from hers. “Not until you beg for my cock to fuck you hard and fast.”
His attention moved down and he unhooked the top closure on the corset to access her breasts fully. His hands and mouth roughly assaulted the small mounds of flesh. Every bite and lick left capsaicin on her flesh, and her nipples swelled under the burning sensation.
“God!” she gasped. Her breasts felt abraded by the heat and the way he scraped her nipples between his teeth. It was nearly too much. Only her pride kept her from begging as the pain that she embraced, became the most intense pleasure.
Ragged breaths lifted her chest rapidly, her body writhing with want.
He grabbed her face in one hand, unyieldingly but not so tight that it caused her pain. “Look at me,” he demanded.
She had been so lost in his onslaught, that she hadn’t remembered closing her eyes. Her lids lifted as his hand shook her face slightly, as if to gain her attention.
“If you come before I have given you permission, you will be going home exactly the way you are now. I won’t even remove the cuffs from your arms so you can unlock your front door. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, her labored breathing slowing.
She understood all too well. He was going to keep up his sexual seduction until she gave in to his wishes, called herself that horrible name and pleaded for him, or until she could not help but come. Her lips trembled as she fought her pride.
As his hand left her face, he lowered his mouth onto the darkened bud of her breast and sucked hard. When it became unbearable, she gasped, and her shoulder lifted from the sofa to ease the pull.
The Love He Craves (The Love She Craves: Selling Her Soul to Declan Book 2) Page 12
