Taming the Brat (Forbidden Secrets)

by Diana Rose Wilson

  “Am I going to get a spanking?” she asked around the knuckle between her teeth.

  His finger nudged her chin to bring her face up to his and his expression was amused as he growled, “Also a brat? Fucking lord, I am doomed.”

  The smile wouldn’t come to her lips and his azure eyes burned behind the flare of the green dragon wings on his mask. “Only very good girls get spankings,” he said seriously. “My good friend’s lady got roughed up on her way inside. The woman who ran into us took everything she had on her. Mask, cloak, invitation and cards. This woman was also a friend of mine before…things happened.”

  Things. When she squirmed, he brushed his thumb over her knuckles, trying to draw her hand away from her lips.

  “No, jealous one. It was a situation of sportsmanship and a playmate not suitable for my temperament. Even though she has been removed from the house along with Queen Bee, there are people here who are still their friends and I want you to be on guard. I admit that I have played games with you, but I’m not playing them now. You have been refreshingly honest with me. I should be with you as well.”

  He continued to stroke her thigh and she found herself softening against him. She allowed her legs to slowly open under the warmth of his touch. “You’re not going to send me home?” she asked, feeling meek.

  His eyes gleamed and a sudden smile pulled at his full lips. “No. I only request you make nice with our mutual friends. Or tell me if you are not friends with them and we will keep our distance. They are…going through a very rough time right now. It’s been a complete clusterfuck for them today.”

  Vans kissed the finger that brushed across her lips. She could only imagine. “Is she all right?”

  “She just got some scuffs. I think she’s more twisted up emotionally. Like him. Apparently you were really ruthless with her too.”

  “She is my friend. I just wanted… I wanted—” She found herself unable put it into words. At first she’d thought she wanted Leo, but no, it wasn’t that. “I want—”

  “What do you want, precious?” he asked when she lapsed into a miserable, guilt-tangled silence.

  All the endless needs and years of denied goals and frustrations pulsed through her veins.

  “Flowers? Jewels? A yacht in the bay? Ponies? A house in France?”

  She couldn’t tell if he was teasing her and she wriggled against him in protest. “Stop…stop!” she growled, pushing slightly so she could look at him.

  He regarded her in silence. Expectant.

  “I want something real,” she said quietly.

  It was impossible to read his expression behind his mask. Without speaking, he bent forward to scoop up her discarded mask and handed it to her. “Put this on and let’s go to our suite.”

  She put it on as he removed a token from his pocket and affixed it to her shoulder. With a smile, he gathered her closer to his chest and swept her up as though she weighed nothing at all.

  Chapter Two

  The Suite

  He carried her through the quiet house. They passed very few people. Guests were either sleeping or playing elsewhere in the house, out of sight. They traveled down a different set of stairs and along a hall that led to his suite. Outside the door he adjusted her in his arms, shushing her softly as she squirmed, and he managed to get the door open without putting her down.

  Inside, the main room was as lavish as the rest of the house.

  The moment the door swung closed, he set her down and pulled his mask off, tossing it onto the marble bar top to smile down at her.

  His hair, which previously was hidden under his hat, gleamed like pale gold—short and spiky from the mask. His face was clean, shaved, and bronzed from the sun, the azure of his eyes was startling while he avidly watched her drink him in. Realization hit her and she fumbled to tear her own mask off, laying it over his.

  “No more games, I think,” he murmured, unbuttoning his jacket slowly, holding her gaze. “I’m Travis Conte. I work for Adler Enterprises. I—”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” she told him, captivated as he stripped out of the tux jacket and gracefully laid it over the sofa. He walked backward, loosening his bow tie and she followed him, though she didn’t remove her clothes.

  “I know I don’t have to, but you asked for real. Here it is. I don’t come here trolling for sex. I come here to play very hard with girls who enjoy pain. We don’t meet outside here. I like pony-girls but not exclusively pony-girls.” He lowered his voice, husky and playful. “I broke one of my own no-kissing rules right away with you. You are just too bratty to resist. If we do have sex, there will be condoms. I don’t like to share. I’m selfish, greedy and demanding.”

  He paused, sliding the tie out of the collar of his shirt, one golden eyebrow poised up, and she could see he wanted her to respond in kind. She felt heat rush to her cheeks.

  “I’m Vanderbilt Charles. I work at a bookstore as a clerk,” she replied with a cocky smirk that he mirrored. “I have no idea if I like pain or—”

  “I think we tested it out pretty nicely earlier,” he murmured to her, wrapping the tie around his knuckles.

  The memory of his bite to her ear and the way it had inflamed her desire left her breathless.

  The cold sensation from earlier melted away under his intense gaze. “Would you like to try more?”

  “Yes.” The breathless quality of her voice seemed to affect him as he gazed at her with heavy-lidded eyes and groaned. When he began on the buttons of his shirt, she stepped forward and grabbed the front and deftly pulled the top one open. When the first one parted, his arms slid around her.

  His body bowed forward. “I might be forced to fuck you if you get me too hot and bothered,” he warned and she scraped a finger down his chest, making him shiver in response.

  “Good,” she whispered and when she tipped her head up to meet his lust-filled eyes, his mouth covered hers. The fire of him burned through her. Heat of passion, need, and desire enveloped her and tore through her. It felt like nothing she’d experienced before. More than the skill of his tongue and mouth on hers, it was the savage power in him. The way he claimed her, thrusting his tongue into her, fucking her mouth.

  Her fingers tightened on his shirt and she tore several buttons in her blind need to have his skin exposed to her. His body felt hot too, hard and sculpted under her palm. She could feel the pounding of his heart, it echoed through her, a sensation she could feel along the roof of her mouth that lanced straight into her pussy.

  He broke the kiss, dragging his mouth down her jaw and throat, pressing his teeth against the side of her neck. Her knees buckled with the intensity of the pleasure driving through her and he swept her up, crushing her to his chest as he licked the spot he’d kissed. His bright eyes gleamed as he looked at her, asking, “You know to tell me your limits. Right?”

  As she nodded, his skillful fingers pulled at the laces of her corset.

  “I don’t want you pushing too hard. It’s not a contest. You only do what you want. Understand?” He spoke against her neck between the kisses he moved along her flesh.

  “Yes,” she agreed, voice splintering. Pressing her hands against his broad chest, she ducked her head and gazed at the solid muscles and the golden hairs under her fingers. ”Mushroom?” she asked.

  His shoulders trembled with a silent laugh. “I hate them. Nothing is likely to cool my passion faster than mushrooms. You understand? I could really hurt you unless you communicate with me,” he murmured as his fingers pushed down the corset, exposing her breasts. As he bared her, the electric blue of his eyes sent tingles over her. He drank her in as she’d never been admired before. The intensity in him made her stomach tighten without him even needing to touch her. His breath whispered over her breasts, making her nipples tighten.

  The prospect of the danger made her lean toward him but he didn’t let her, rocking away while holding her back with the hands that settled on her hips. “Vanderbilt.” He spoke her name slowly, testin
g it out and in the haughty accent and with the growl on the R. She felt a thrill spike through her.

  “Vans,” she corrected him, but he pressed a finger to her lips.

  “Do not correct me, girl.”

  Her first instinct was to tell him where to shove his chauvinistic attitude but then he pinched her lower lip and she felt her knees melt. She rocked unsteadily on her feet. “Yes,” she whimpered and squeezed her eyes closed, shutting out his vivid azure gaze.

  “Good girl.”

  The ebb in the pain followed by praise sent an irrational thrill through her and as he eased her back toward the bed, she went without resistance. When her fingers trailed down to his belt, he made a very small sound in the negative. He pulled her skirt off with a soft rumble of appreciation of her exposed body as she stepped out of the layers of gossamer silk, leaving it behind.

  Her heart was racing by the time he got her to the bed and lightly pushed her into the plush white comforter. When she looked up, she felt her breath catch at the confident smile curling his mouth, dimpling one cheek. What did he have in mind for her? What was she doing? Why did she like this so much? What was wrong with her? Was she going to let him hurt her?

  As though he could see the doubt on her face, he smoothed his hands over her shoulders. “I won’t do anything you don’t like. I can see you’re questioning all this. Should I leave you to think about it?”

  The question processed slowly and she at last gave a shake of her head. “No. I just don’t know what you have planned for me.” Looking away from him, she took in the bedroom. The room was decorated lavishly and contained a marble fireplace. Candles were everywhere, twinkling and glittering in the darkness of the room. The crystal chandelier over the bed was strewn with mistletoe.

  “Let’s see… I was thinking of starting with laying you facedown and spanking your ass until it glows like a Hawaiian sunset. Since you seemed so interested in that earlier. For my pleasure, not for any punishment. You understand?”

  She frowned and gave a little shake of her head, trying to wrap her mind around it.

  He brushed a knuckle along her chin, tipping her face to him. “Look at me.”

  She forced herself to look into his face, feeling a quavering thrill in her stomach. He wasn’t as unattractive as she had assumed under the dirt. No, he was so handsome, though the steely expression lacked all his usual cocky warmth. It was terrifying and delicious. Her confidence wavered under the weight of his. He didn’t even smile. “You’re not in trouble. When I hurt you, it’s because I love seeing you suffer and writhe. It’s because I know you love being broken. It’s not because you’re bad and need to repent for anything.” He waited and then asked quietly, “Understand?”

  Blushing, she nodded. “I think I get it.”

  “And you’re not wrong for enjoying being shattered into little pieces.” He motioned to her and made a swirling movement with his finger. “Lie on your belly, Vanderbilt. Stretch your hands above your head and do not move them. You can hold on to the headboard or make fists but do not cover your ass. Do you understand me?”

  “Travis I—”

  “You may call me Sir,” he said with an imperious arch of one golden eyebrow. He spoke as if he were bestowing a grand honor on her. It made her pride crackle and she felt her shoulders tightening, ready to fight with him. Only there was no room for argument in his brilliant-blue gaze. There was only the command and his ultimate confidence that she would do as he ordered.

  She hesitated, gritting her teeth, but her hunger for him only doubled as he smoothed his big hands together, watching her response as though he were calculating her every unspoken thought.

  As though he could read her mind.

  “Yes. Sir.”

  His eyes narrowed to half-lidded in feline-like pleasure and again he motioned with his finger, stirring it around in the air to silently reiterate his earlier command.

  Her body responded without her conscious effort, and she turned to face the bed. She crawled up onto the soft comforter, offering him a view of her tight backside and thighs as she prowled over the bed and lay down. He didn’t make a sound, either in appreciation for her sensual show, or approval. A glance over her shoulder gave her no clue to his inner thoughts. His expression remained completely unreadable.

  He reached for her ankle and pulled her down the bed toward him. “Look at the fire,” he instructed, his voice a demanding snarl.

  Gooseflesh danced up her spine and she failed to remain still as the thrill spiked through her. Oh god! Fucking god! He was going to spank her! Hundreds of thoughts jumbled in her head, doubts and desires all balling together in a heart-thundering storm. She turned her face away and looked at the blaze in the hearth and just as she focused on the flames, the first crack of his palm landed on her ass.

  The sharp sting slid down her legs and up her spine and warmth bloomed inside her. She gasped at the sensation. It wasn’t very hard. The sound was more shocking than the impact.

  Another landed on the opposite cheek, followed by alternating smacks upon each side until she lost count. The sensation of pain blended into heat and then blurred into pleasure. She found herself arching her ass up toward his strokes. His steady rhythm was unfailing. The fire crackled and popped and she moaned when one hand suddenly grasped her ass cheek and squeezed. The other hand continued raining down open-palmed blows.

  She spread her thighs wider and arched toward the spanks and he rewarded her by squeezing her ass harder. She could feel his fingernails digging into her skin and turned her mouth into the bedding to muffle her cries of pleasure.

  “Don’t hide your cries. Let me hear them!” he snarled and struck again and again.

  She spasmed and jerked under the harder spanks and screamed aloud for more. More! Harder! Her toes curled with delight and need! The pain was delicious but she craved more!

  Suddenly his finger slid into her pussy, giving her just what her aching body needed. Her orgasm shuddered through her. Raw and unexpected, the gush of her pleasure tangled with the pain throbbing through her.

  She felt like a live wire, thrashing under his strikes, and her sex clutched around the finger that curved up into her. That single digit dipped in and out of her silken folds.

  “Harder?” he asked, his voice seeming distant from her climax and from the spanking.

  “Yes! Yes, Sir! Please!”

  The finger in her pussy slipped free. His hand gripping her ass left. She heard the sigh of leather and fabric and knew he’d removed his belt. He resumed spanking with his open hand and traced the cool leather down her spine from the nape of her neck to her burning-hot ass cheeks.

  When the belt came down, she lurched forward with a bark of shock and a new height of pain. The kiss of leather connecting with her bare skin lit her up. She squealed and squirmed forward before another lick of the belt lashed along the other cheek, replacing his open palm.

  Pain.

  Pleasure!

  It took a real effort not to put her hands over her ass and she gripped the pillows, mewling out a protest. Tears sprang to her eyes as she squirmed under the blows from the belt. She felt her pussy squeezing tightly as her lust burned hotter with every slap. Again and again and—

  He stopped suddenly. Without the sound of the leather snapping against her ass, she could hear his steady, rumbling breaths behind her. She quivered and thrashed, swinging her hips back and forth. Her ass felt as if it was on fire! Down her thighs and up the small of her back too, where he’d applied several skillful licks to her. Yet it wasn’t enough! She shuddered and moaned, rubbing her tearful face on the bedding.

  “More?” he growled, smoothing a hand down her shoulder, squeezing.

  Moaning out her answer, she arched her hips. Yes!

  “Vanderbilt?” he crooned at her.

  She was certain she’d said yes! “Yes, Sir! Yes! More! Please more!” she whimpered and jerked her ass up higher, displaying herself, spreading her thighs without a care that she was a
cting so slutty. She wanted more of the burning-hot belt against her upturned ass.

  “Such a good girl,” he whispered, his voice a rough snarl. “Keep your hips up. Just like that, sweetheart.” He petted his finger down the crack of her ass to her pussy, plunging it in once before slipping it down to her clit.

  She spread her legs wider, moaning and rocking toward him, but he’d already removed his hand. For a moment, nothing happened. She felt so hot, overstimulated and needy and he wasn’t there. She kept her eyes on the fire, realizing dimly that the flames were lower, licking across the blackened wood.

  When the belt came down again, it landed harder than all the other times, connecting with a particularly aching spot, and she let out a sharp cry of protest, gripping the pillows and biting into the bedding as her hips hunched forward, trying to avoid the next blow. She wasn’t fast enough. The snap of leather caught the fleshy underside of her ass and she writhed away from the blaze.

  And it was perfect! Through the agony she felt her lust trickle down the inside of her thighs. His moan rose over the impact of the belt. Again and again he spanked her, now seeming to want to find that limit in her. She wanted to find the center of it too. The sensation flowered through her, overwhelming and savage, but she wanted more. She felt as though her backside glowed like the embers in the fire. She burned hot, pushed and pushed and… She shuddered and groaned, arching toward the next downswing, and heard him suck in a shocked breath when the leather bit into her ass.

  “Fuck!” he snarled. The belt dropped with a clatter. His body pressed against her hips and thighs. His heated skin stung along the long welts the leather had made on her.

  “More,” she begged, bucking against him, desperate for the harder contact, needing to feel it biting against her eager flesh. As she arched backward, she felt his hard cock against her cleft. Hard and scalding hot against her ass, and then suddenly he shoved into her, pushing her forward onto the bed, pinning her with his weight. His hand sank into her hair, gripping it painfully as he fucked her.