Drawn That Way

by Bronwyn Green

  Slipping his hand from her pants, he trailed his fingertips over her stomach to skim the sensitive skin beneath her breasts. Without warning, he reached up and yanked a bra cup down, exposing her breast. A whimper escaped her, and the sound wrapped around his balls and squeezed. She squirmed in his arms as her nipple pebbled in the cooler air.

  He scraped his teeth along her shoulder, catching her shoulder strap and letting it snap back against her skin. Moving back to her ear, he whispered, “I can’t wait to taste you. I want every inch of your body under my mouth.”

  She’d closed her eyes and dropped her head back against his shoulder. He caressed the line of her neck, allowing her to feel his control of her body. The control she gave him.

  Releasing his hold on her bra, he cupped her bare breast, circling the palm of his hand over the tight tip and loving the way she arched into his touch. He brought his hand to her mouth and traced her lips with his finger. They parted at his touch, and it killed him to know that this was as close as he was going to get to kissing her.

  She drew his finger into the wet heat of her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and sucking on it as if it were a cock. Christ, she was good. He thrust against her ass, imagining how good her lips would feel around his dick.

  Withdrawing his finger, he traced her areola, the dampness further crinkling the flesh. He rolled her nipple between this thumb and forefinger, tugging gently on it before pinching. Hard.

  She stiffened, biting her lip, her cry strangling in her throat.

  “Did I say you needed to be quiet?” he asked, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, still holding firm to her nipple.

  She shook her head frantically.

  “We’re the only ones here. You can scream, if you want.” He released his grip on her, and she sank limply against him.

  “More,” she whispered.

  He slid his hand into her bra and cupped her other breast, plucking at the nipple. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

  He’d heard her perfectly well, but he wanted her to ask for what she wanted. To own it. He had a feeling he’d give her anything she wanted if she just asked.

  She tilted her head to look back at him. Her green eyes were huge and glossy and full of need. “More. Please, Rory.”

  God, hearing his name from her lips… It was wrapped in her desperation, and it just about did him in.

  Letting go of her, he walked to his desk. He didn’t need to turn around to see if she’d follow. He knew she wouldn’t. She trusted him not just to tell her what to do, but to see to her needs. Quickly, he cleared a space in front of his chair. “Take off your pants.”

  He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She didn’t try to remove her underwear. She was a fast learner. He liked that about her. Turning to face her, he caught his breath. She stood there in nothing but plain black panties and a black bra that was half on and half off. Her pale skin practically glowed against the dark fabric. He wanted to taste every inch of it.

  “You still want more?”

  She nodded, eyes wide.

  He patted his desktop. “Then, I want you up here.”

  Chapter Seven

  The distance between where Tris stood and Rory’s desk couldn’t have been more than six feet, but it might as well have been sixty miles. As badly as she wanted his hands on her and his cock inside her, she was frozen to the spot. She wasn’t sure if it was fear of what was about to happen or the need to push him to find out what would happen if she didn’t obey. Judging from the expression on his face, she wouldn’t have long to wait to learn the consequences.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you ready to use your safeword?”

  She shook her head.

  “You realize there are penalties for not following orders, right?”

  “Yes.” She barely recognized her own voice. It was embarrassingly breathy.

  He sprawled in his desk chair, legs spread, and an impossibly huge looking bulge pressing against his fly. “Then, I suggest you get over here before your punishment gets worse.”

  Excitement battered her stomach as she forced herself to take a step forward. And another. And another. Until she finally stood in front of his desk and was about to sit on it.

  He shook his head. “You didn’t follow directions.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s nice.” He stared at her, his eyes hard, and his jaw tight. Waves of tension rolled off his body. “But it doesn’t fix things, does it?”

  She wasn’t sorry. Not really. But knowing this would be her only time with him, she wanted as much out of this experience as she could get. And, if that meant misbehaving to finally find out what it was like to be spanked, she was down for that. And she was definitely down for a little cock sucking.

  She lowered herself to her knees between his legs and inched closer. “I can apologize in other ways,” she offered, her pussy clenching emptily, needing him to fill her.

  He steepled his hands together and tapped his forefingers against his lips as he considered her. “That might help mitigate some of your punishment, but it won’t take it away entirely.”

  She managed to quell her relief. She didn’t want it taken away, but god, she wanted to touch him. She reached toward his waistband but stopped short. Peering up at him, she asked, “May I?”

  He nodded sharply, his bright eyes never leaving hers.

  Willing her fingers not to shake, she unbuckled his belt, the clanking of the metal loud in the near silent room, then released the button on his jeans. The pressure of his erection made the zipper harder to undo, but he didn’t move, didn’t help her with any of it. Just let her struggle. And fuck if that didn’t make this entire situation hotter.

  She pulled his shirt free and quickly unbuttoned it, meeting his gaze as she reached the last one. He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at her. She wondered if she’d just earned herself another mysterious punishment for doing something she hadn’t asked permission for. She mentally shrugged and bared his chest.

  In for a penny… Continuing to meet his eyes, she smoothed her hands up his belly and over his pecs, raking her short nails through the dusting of dark hair covering his startlingly tight muscles. She hadn’t expected that kind of definition. Rory was just full of surprises.

  Dropping his gaze, she teased his nipples, toying with them until they hardened. She wondered what would happen if she pinched him like he’d pinched her. Before she could find out, he caught both her wrists in his hands and squeezed. He shook his head, silently warning her. It hurt a little, but she trusted that he wouldn’t leave marks. He’d said he wouldn’t. Though, there was part of her that kind of wished he would.

  He released his hold on her, and she lowered her hands and spread open his pants, noticing the damp spot on his underwear. Pre-come had formed a quarter-sized circle on the fabric. She couldn’t wait to taste him. Pressing her thighs together to try to quell the ache in her pussy, she scooted a little closer to him and hooked her fingers under the waistband of his jeans and underwear, tugging them down far enough to bare his cock.

  It wasn’t much longer than average, but dear lord, was it thick. If her panties hadn’t been soaked before, they were now. Just the thought of taking him inside her had moisture slicking her inner thighs. She wrapped a hand around his base, his flesh hot against her skin, and leaned forward to take him into her mouth.

  “No.”

  Just that one word. No explanation. She hated being told “no”. Was this a consequence of not moving fast enough? Not being allowed to touch him? And how did those two little letters make her go from needy to desperate?

  “What?” she finally managed to ask.

  “Turn around.”

  There was no missing the command in his tone. She released him and turned as quickly as possible, still on her knees, the carpet scraping uncomfortably against her skin.

  He’d leaned forward in his chair. She could tell by the shadow looming over he
r and his warmth seeping into her body even though he wasn’t touching her.

  “Put your hands behind your back, and keep them there.”

  His tone brooked no argument, and shivers slithered down her spine as she complied.

  “Good girl,” he murmured.

  She’d throat punch anyone who thought calling her “good girl” in real life was at all acceptable. But somehow, here, on her knees, with Rory, it just fanned her need higher. He reached around her and yanked down the other bra cup. Her nipples were so tight they almost hurt. He cupped both breasts, rolling her peaks between his thumbs and fingertips.

  “You’ve got the most gorgeous tits,” he murmured against her ear. “So pretty. So sensitive. I wanted to play with them until you came.” He sighed. “But you didn’t listen. Now, we’ll have to do something else.”

  She whimpered in frustration, mentally kicking her own arse. Why hadn’t she moved?

  He pinched the tight flesh, sending shockwaves of pleasure jolting through her body. Sliding his hands to her back, he deftly unhooked her bra and tugged it down her arms. When he reached her wrists, he waited. But, without the directive to move her hands, she kept her fingers laced together.

  He stroked his hands up and down her arms while he pressed kisses to her shoulders. It killed her that kissing was one of his limits. She loved the intimacy of it, but considering tonight wasn’t really about that kind of connection, she needed to just get over it.

  She was so distracted by her thoughts, she barely noticed that he’d used her bra to bind her wrists together. Until she’d tried to shift.

  “There. I think that will do nicely.” It was impossible to miss the arousal in his voice. “You can turn around now.”

  Tris had no idea how much she depended on her arms for balance until she tried to move with them restrained behind her back. She tilted to the side, but Rory was right there with his hand under her elbow to catch her and guide her back to him.

  “Had I known this evening was going to take such an exciting turn, I would have made sure I had cuffs in my desk. But we’re making do.”

  With a predatory gleam in his eyes, he watched as she inched closer, breasts thrust forward by her bound position. As she drew nearer, she noticed that his hard-on hadn’t diminished. If anything, it stood farther out from his body, a drop of pre-come glistening on the tip.

  She started to lean forward, but she stopped and glanced up at him. He nodded once. Butterflies fluttering, she swiped her tongue across the head of his cock, loving the way he stiffened in his seat. Moving closer still, she angled her head and drew his shaft between her lips, bobbing shallowly as she tried to keep her balance. It was a lot harder to give a hands-free blowjob than she would have thought. But the sound of Rory drawing a breath through clenched teeth let her know she was doing okay.

  She swirled her tongue around him on the upstroke, and he groaned. The rusty sound settled in her cunt, making her feel emptier than ever. She hoped to hell that her punishment wasn’t going to result in a lack of penetration. She might die. She moved up and down along his length, her nipples rubbing against the seams of his jeans, chafing deliciously. Bobbing her head, she took him deeper, letting him nudge the back of her throat as his hips jerked up.

  “Christ, Tristan.” His ragged whisper caressed her skin, and she tried to move faster, suck harder. He grasped her ponytail and wrapped it around his hand, tugging her head up. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to come. I’ve got too many things planned for you to let that happen, right now.”

  Was it was possible to orgasm from nothing more than listening to him talk to her? He guided her head off his cock, and she looked at him, wondering if she appeared as wanton and needy as she felt.

  “Stand up.”

  Getting to her feet was even harder than turning around, but he was there to help her when she needed it.

  “It’s time for your punishment.”

  Trepidation and worry collided in her middle. She didn’t think he’d hurt her—not seriously, anyway. Not more than she hoped she’d enjoy. But not knowing his intentions ramped up her anxiety. While she stood there waiting for him to tell her what he wanted from her, he slipped off his shirt and draped it over the back of the chair.

  His arms and shoulders were just as tightly muscled as his chest and abs. He had the body of a runner—leanly sculpted. Plus, she guessed he made fairly regular use of the punching bag in the corner behind the mat. She wanted to trace every line of muscle with her tongue, but she didn’t get a chance. He patted his thighs with his palms. “On your stomach. Ass in the air.”

  Her stomach dropped to the floor and rolled under his desk. She stepped forward and carefully tried to arrange herself over her lap.

  “You know, this would probably be easier if you’d untie me.”

  His lips quirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Once she was finally where he wanted her, he rubbed her ass, his long fingers skimming over the crotch of her underwear.

  “You’ve completely soaked these.”

  “I know.” It was more groan than speech.

  He traced around the leg hole. “Don’t be embarrassed. Never be embarrassed by your enjoyment.” Her breath caught as he yanked her panties partway down her thighs, baring her ass. She shuddered at the abrupt action.

  He continued to stroke her flesh, kneading it, every once in a while, letting his fingertips graze her pussy. She was a mass of writhing desire as she squirmed on his lap, his cock rubbing against her side.

  “Spread your legs for me.”

  Chapter Eight

  Rory watched as Tristan wiggled on his lap, trying to get into the position he’d demanded. Her cunt was slick with arousal, and the enticing scent of it hung heavy in the air. He was dying to taste her, but first, he had to mete out the spanking she was clearly aching for.

  “Have you ever been spanked?”

  She shook her head. “Not even as a child.”

  This just kept getting better and better. He’d never imagined that playing with someone who had no experience would be as arousing as it was. Seeing it through her eyes was almost like experiencing everything the first time himself.

  Without any warning, he brought his hand down hard on her ass, loving the way she stiffened and cried out. A pink spot rose on her left cheek.

  “Oh, god,” she groaned, the words slightly muffled by his pant leg.

  He rubbed the spot, increasing the heat. “Too much?”

  “No.” She lifted her head slightly. “More. Please.”

  He smoothed his other hand up her spine, urging her to relax. As soon as she hung limply, he landed another blow on the opposite side. But, this time, he didn’t pause—he smacked her again, alternating sides, over and over. He spanked the meatiest part of her ass, never quite landing on the same spot twice.

  He steadily leaked pre-come against her side. The combination of her near guttural moans and her writhing body had him harder than he’d ever been before. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as Tristan giving herself over to pleasure—the pleasure he was giving her.

  She rocked against his thigh, humping his leg as he rained blows over her sweetly reddening ass.

  He stopped abruptly. “You’re not trying to get yourself off, are you?”

  She wriggled, muffled curse words escaping her lips.

  Waiting until she was still, he rubbed the tender areas, letting the burn sink deeper into the muscle. When she finally stopped moving, he tugged her panties the rest of the way off and urged her legs farther apart. His jeans were already damp with her arousal, and he had a feeling that was only going to get worse. Not that he was complaining.

  “Now, lie still.”

  She took a shuddering breath but didn’t say anything.

  He let his hand fall again. One cheek after the other, being careful to skim his fingers over her cunt from time to time. His hand was burning almost as hotly as her ass. Slipping his fingers through her splayed legs, he
shoved two into her pussy, pumping into her grasping channel.

  “Oh, god. Rory…I can’t.”

  “Can’t what?”

  “I can’t stop. I’m trying… I can’t.” She screamed and arched into his hand, her release slamming into her as a fresh rush of moisture coated his skin.

  Fuck, if she was this tight around his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how good it would feel to have his cock buried inside her. He sincerely hoped she wouldn’t safeword before that happened. Slowing his motions, he gentled her, letting her come down from her orgasm before pushing her into anything else. As she quieted, he carefully pulled free from her body and released her wrists from their makeshift binding.

  “Careful moving your arms,” he murmured. “Your shoulders might be a little sore, for a while.”

  “Not as sore as my arse,” she muttered, her lilting accent thicker than usual, as she shifted to extend her arms in front of her.

  “Regrets?” he asked.

  “Nope.” She grinned, but couldn’t quite hold his gaze.

  “You might have a few when you try to sit down.” He helped her to a standing position, and she looked away, seeming suddenly shy. He cupped her cheek and turned her head to face him. “Are you okay? Is this too much for you? We can stop if you want to.”

  “No!”

  She blushed. He could feel her skin heat beneath his fingertips.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out. It’s a little intense, but I don’t want to stop. This is probably my only chance to experience this kind of thing.”

  He doubted that. There were plenty of guys who’d give their right nut to have a chance to play with someone as responsive as Tristan.

  “Unless, you’d rather stop,” she offered.

  “God, no.” He trailed his fingertips down her sternum and through the valley of her breasts, watching as goosebumps erupted in his wake. He raised his eyes to hers again. “You remember your words?” When she nodded, he added, “Now, you can get on the desk.”