Those gorgeous, wicked lips of his curled into a semi-smile. “You promised I could punish you any way I wished.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Then that is what I will do.”
My heart literally skipped a beat. Anxiety mingled with intense arousal, making me lightheaded.
“Come. Here.” He motioned to a flat six-sided ottoman-like bench. “On your back.”
I sat, legs bent, feet on the ground.
He motioned for me to lie down. “On your back, esclavo.”
I slowly reclined back. The bench was too small for my legs to rest on it, so they remained where they were, bent at the knees, feet on the floor.
“There are many ways to punish, puta.” He buckled a shackle around one wrist, pulling it out and slightly up, away from my body. “There is the obvious--pain.” Then he circled around to my other wrist, and I watched him bind it, fear starting to overwhelm arousal. I didn’t like pain. At all. Although I had found peace when he whipped me the first time. “But there is also the less obvious.” He moved to my feet, grabbed an ankle and pulled it away from the other. Then he buckled it so my knees were spread, my feet resting on the floor.
I squirmed.
Not so obvious punishments? What did he mean by that?
After securing my other ankle, pulling it farther from the first so my legs were spread wider, he climbed onto the bench with me, arms and legs straddling my naked body. “There. Are we comfortable?” Dark flames danced in his eyes and he stared down at me, making me most definitely uncomfortable, though in a good way. The tip of his tongue swiped across his lower lip and my breath caught in my throat.
What did he mean by less obvious ways of punishment? Did he mean seduction? Was that the punishment he had in mind? Because right now he was the picture of seductive.
Bending his arms, he lowered his head slowly, one inch at a time. “Have you ever burned with pleasure, esclavo? Pleasure so intense it was painful?”
My heart rate kicked up to the stratosphere. “N-no,” I stuttered. His mouth was so close his sweet breath gusted over mine. A little whimper slipped up my throat, but I swallowed it back down.
Warm. I was getting so warm. Everywhere. Especially down there, between my legs. My breathing rasped as he moved closer. What would he do now? With what pleasures would he torment me? I curled my hands into fists. My body tensed.
He caught my head between his hands, holding it in place. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth. I opened to him.
He tasted sweet, decadent. His kiss scrambled my brains and ignited blazes through my whole body. Huge, raging infernos. Within seconds I was burning, from the inside out. I was scorching. My blood was boiling.
Too hot.
He was right. Pleasure was torment. The worst kind.
I whimpered again. I moaned. I fought the restraints binding my arms and legs. And I struggled to break the kiss. But he wouldn’t stop. His lips, tongue and teeth tortured me. The aching was agonizing, far worse than any beating. It had to stop. I couldn’t take another second.
A tear slipped from the corner of my eye. He licked it away. “Mmmm. I see you are learning.”
Cruel bastard.
“Please,” I muttered.
“Ah, so already you beg.” His gaze raked down my body and my breathing grew shallow and fast.
I was learning—quickly. This man was the master of torture. Both the pleasure kind. And the pain.
Wearing a crooked smile, he lifted one index finger. “Perhaps you aren’t as strong as you thought.” He placed that finger on my lip. Then, slowly dragging it down my neck, he added, “How I love to hear your pleas for mercy. They are like the sweetest music in my ears.” Down that finger wandered. I followed it with my eyes as it climbed to the top of my breastbone. Then it inched lower, trailing a path between my breasts before stopping at the base of my breastbone. Because I was breathing so quickly, my chest rose and fell violently. “What do you fear most, esclavo?” That finger took a sudden right and headed straight for my aching nipple. With a flick, he amplified the agony. With a pinch he intensified it even more. And with a slight twist, he made me cry out. It felt like a lightning bolt blasted through me. I was completely at his mercy. And there was nowhere I would rather be. “Your response to my touch is like no aphrodisiac I have ever tasted.”
Powerful, overwhelming need slammed through me. My spine arched, pushing my breast up. Throbbing heat pounded between my legs. I was desperate. For a touch, only one. No, more. Many more. Down there, where the heat was the worst. I needed him to stop this torture before I died.
I whimpered. My fingers unfurled. I pulled at the bindings, wishing I could touch him, wishing I could punish him like he was punishing me.
He angled upright, gazed down at me with those wicked dark eyes. His mouth curved into a naughty grin. “Have you had enough already, esclavo? I haven’t. I warned you. My hunger is unquenchable, especially for you.” He pulled his shirt off, revealing smooth, suntanned skin. Deep furrows cut between thick, bulging muscles on his shoulders, chest and arms. As he moved, his abs flexed. In a word, he was glorious. The most beautiful man I’d ever seen. And he wanted me. That sparkle in his eyes was for me.
Take me. Please, take me now.
Beneath him, I writhed, and, watching, he growled. The sound vibrated through every cell in my body.
He placed one index finger on the center of my stomach. Slowly, it traced a line down the center of my torso. It stopped just above my mound.
A shudder swept through me, starting at the base of my spine and racing up my back. Would I soon feel what it was like to be taken by a man? By this strong, powerful, domineering man? “Please,” I begged, voice raspy, breathy. “Please, I hurt. Everywhere.”
“Dammit,” he growled. Bending down, he kissed me again. And this time he didn’t wait for me to open to him. He pushed his tongue inside my mouth. The hand that had been inching up my bare leg made a swift leap to the apex of my thighs, cupping my wet sex. A deep rumble vibrated in his chest. That sound echoed through my whole body.
Fisting my hair with the hand that wasn’t between my legs, he jerked my head to the side and kissed the sensitive skin of my neck. Goose bumps scorched the entire front of my body. I was absolutely lost in rapture and blind need. “Please,” I begged, over and over as his hand warmed my wet pussy.
I was rewarded with a tender stroke between my legs. Just one. Oh God, it was agonizing. The pulsing heat shooting through my body was unbearable. It had to stop. Now. “Please, take me,” I whispered.
His hand left the flesh between my legs. “Open your eyes,” he commanded. “Open them now.”
I obeyed. There was no way I couldn’t.
His hands cupped my face. He stared into my eyes, his gaze penetrating deep into my soul. “You have no idea what you’re asking,”
A tear leaked from my eye. I blinked it away. It dribbled down my temple, wetting my hair. “I know, and I don’t care.”
Did I care that I might not be a virgin when I left Spain? I did, and yet I didn’t. All this time I’d clung to my dream of fostering a house full of unwanted, abused children. To do that, I needed income. Stability. And an enormous house. How else would I get those, if I didn’t marry a man who was rich? I had nothing. No way to get those things myself. To attract a wealthy man, Sid told me I needed to be a virgin. Was she wrong? And even if I managed to stay a virgin after this, had I ever had any chance of actually seeing that dream of mine come true?
“You will care.” His eyes were like flickering bits of obsidian.
“Perhaps.” I blinked as yet another tear blurred my vision. “You’ve proven your point. You’ve broken my will.” I shuddered, so confused and desperate I could barely think. “You’ve made me suffer. Please,” I begged. “Please have mercy. Either stop or take me now. End this.”
He angled closer, his sweet breath fanning over my face. He was so beautiful and mysterious and powerful. If I were to lose my vir
ginity to any man, why not this one? It was as if he’d stepped straight out of my fantasies. His wavy, sexy hair. His beautiful face. His strong, athletic body.
“You don’t know what you want, do you?” he challenged. His eyes told me I should run, fast. Run and never look back. But his mouth, his hands, his body, they all told me to stay. To beg. To plead. To do whatever it took to make him strip off the rest of his clothes and take me. “You’re not sure you’re ready.” He dipped his head lower, lower, until his lips were almost touching mine. “Last chance,” he whispered. “Tell me you need to leave. Now. Before I get another taste of you. Because once that happens, I may not be able to stop.”
Unable to speak with all the emotion swirling through my system, I gave him my answer. I closed the distance between our mouths.
He growled. Like a wild beast. And a massive shudder quaked me.
His lips and tongue teased and tormented, sending tremors buzzing through my body like jolts of electricity. The zaps arced through my center. Leaving my mouth, he nipped my earlobe, and I practically melted. It seemed he knew exactly what to do to make me burn for his next touch. Moaning softly, I let my heavy eyelids fall shut again. Vivid colors swirled in velvety blackness.
“No, esclavo. Look at me,” he commanded.
Look on him?
I dragged heavy eyelids up.
My breath caught in my throat. Could there be a more beautiful man alive? His face was utter perfection, from his square jaw to the arch of his brows and everything in between.
His hand cupped my cheek again. “What is it about you? You’re nothing like what I thought I would ever find. Nothing. But I can’t…” He jerked his hand away.
My heart lurched. “I think I’m going to die. Your torture is so sweet.”
“No, you won’t die. But you may wish you would.” He forced my head to the side and suckled on my earlobe, chuckling when I let out a little squeak. “I enjoy torturing you, esclavo. More than I could have imagined. I may have to torture you for the next three days. Without stopping.”
Three days straight? No. “Oh God.”
“I tried to warn you.” He nipped my neck. “Do you want to leave?”
Another blast of erotic heat blazed through my body. “No. But I’m burning inside. It’s unbearable.” I squirmed.
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry.
“Please don’t apologize. Just help me.”
“Help you? Don’t you remember? I’m punishing you.” He nipped my collarbone, my neck, a nipple. “You understand now, don’t you? Pleasure can be punishment.”
I most certainly did understand. Those little sharp nips were making my muscles jerk into tight, painful knots and the air gust from my lungs. “Oh God,” I murmured as I squeezed my inner muscles around aching, pulsing emptiness.
“Patience, esclavo. You must learn patience.”
Please, I was in no mood for a lesson in patience. I whimpered to let him know that.
And then he had mercy. At last. He touched me again. There. Between my legs. But the touch was too soft. And much too brief. I jerked, legs, arms, chest tight.
“I’ve just begun.” His tongue drew a slick, meandering line up the inside of my thigh, moving closer, closer to my center. He audibly inhaled. “You smell good. I can’t wait to taste you.”
Taste me? Hadn’t he done that already?
Or did he mean…?
The pounding of my heartbeat was almost painful. It sent bursts of heat pulsing through my whole body, from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. I couldn’t help rocking my hips forward and back in time to the thrumming beat pounding through me.
A second soft touch nearly made me crazy with need. I clenched and relaxed the heated tissues, wishing something would slip inside to stroke away my suffering.
“So wet,” he whispered.
“Yes,” I muttered. “And burning all over.”
“Mmmm.” His fingertip slipped between my folds but didn’t pierce my opening.
I tensed up. My legs trembled. The air rushed from my lungs. “Please,” I whispered again, this time on a moan.
“Is this what you need?” His finger pushed a little deeper, slipping between my nether lips and barely dipping into my tight channel.
A white hot inferno blazed through my insides. Yes, yes, yes, that was what I wanted. But deeper. Harder. “Yessss.” I arched my back, wishing his invading digit would plunge inside, all the way.
“Damn, you’re so wet and tight,” Kace murmured as he audibly inhaled.
He touched me again, parting my outer lips to expose my slick folds. I felt so exposed and vulnerable. And that only made the fire within me burn hotter. “Damn, it seems you will torment me too.”
Dipping his head lower, he flicked his tongue over my exposed clit.
“Oh, God.” My stomach spasmed at his brief touch. I moaned. Something inside me snapped.
There was no denying myself. I couldn’t play this game with him any longer. I had to have him. I had to know how it would feel to have his cock thrust deep inside. I had to know how it would feel to have his arms wrapped around me and his screams of release echoing in my ears.
But first, I had to come. This torment had to end.
He worked his tongue over my clit, and I squirmed beneath him, soaring toward release. But just as that delicious swirling heat was about to blaze through my whole body, he stopped licking my clit and fingering my pussy. Just long enough for the heat to cool a little.
The bastard.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I did both.
His head was between my legs, those sexy dark waves within reach but I couldn’t curl my fingers in them and pull. I couldn’t hold him in place until I exploded. His shoulder and arm muscles were clenched, the sinewy lines sculpted. His was a body made for pleasure. My pleasure. In my mind’s eye, I could see myself bound, arms and legs spread, and him completely nude, his thick, long cock slamming into me.
He pushed his tongue deeper, plunging it into my opening and my inner thighs burned as I fought the restraints, trying to open my legs wider for him. More. I needed more. I wouldn’t be satisfied until his cock was buried inside me, to the hilt.
Oh God. Ohgodohgodohgod. I was in hell. I was in heaven. I was…ohgod. Dying from the pleasure. This guy…what he could do with his tongue. It was magical. It was wicked.
I was hot. Everywhere. Tight. Everywhere. On the verge of release. I was trembling. Sweating. Breathless.
And then he stopped again.
“No!” I screamed, gasping and writhing.
He could he be so cruel?
His tongue began dancing over my clit again, and the tendrils of desire coiled through my body once more. Surely he would let me come this time. He wouldn’t make me suffer anymore.
Tears were streaming down my face, fast and hard.
“I didn’t want to…” he muttered.
His finger pressed deeper into my tight channel. My muscles spasmed. A second finger joined the first, stretching me. Oh, the sensation was delicious. My inner walls clamped tight around those invading digits and a tsunami blasted through me.
My whole body spasmed as I came. My pussy walls rhythmically clenched his fingers as they stroked me deep inside. The sound of my cries of pleasure echoed through the room. The smell of my need hung sweet and heavy in the air.
Mercy. He’d shown me mercy. At last.
I was so grateful I wept.
Watching him through bleary eyes, I tracked his movements as he unfastened the cuffs on my ankles and wrists. As he worked, he was silent, his expression brooding and dark.
What was he thinking?
Was there any way to make him tell me?
After what we had just shared, I ached for any connection with him I could have. I hungered for his companionship, his trust.
His friendship.
Was that more than he was willing to give?
Fuck me. I’m too fucking weak. I don’t deserve
this. None of it. Pleasure. That’s for good guys. Fucking princes. Not bastards like me. Monsters. Who destroy women who trust them, who love them. –Kace R.
Ten
“Are you angry?” I muttered, unable to remain silent for another second. The lingering twitches of that insanely explosive orgasm were still prickling through my insides. And I was still as nude and vulnerable as I’d been when he’d made me come. Kace had just unshackled my wrists and ankles. I’d just sat up. And he was right there, sitting beside me. Sitting, and staring straight ahead. This awful disconnect stretched between us. And I didn’t understand why. It hadn’t been more than a few minutes since Kace had been stroking me to ecstasy. “Kace, are you upset?”
He glared. “What do you think, puta?” He stood, prowling to the opposite side of the room.
He was pissed. But why? I was so bewildered by his sudden change in attitude I didn’t know how to respond. This guy was seriously bipolar.
Standing, and following him, I set one hand on his shoulder. “Did I do something wrong?”
He stepped away. One step. Just to make a point.
Ass-hat.
Why was he doing this? Why?
Suddenly feeling cold, and hot, with fury, I wrapped my arms around my naked body. “Fuck you!”
He whirled around, grabbed me and slammed me against something big and hard behind me so I was pinned between it and his big, furious bulk.
But I was not intimidated. Hell no.
“What is your problem?” I snapped as I stared into his dark eyes.
“You.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because.” His jaw was gritted so tightly I thought he might shatter all his teeth. And his face was the shade of a tomato. I knew what this man was capable of. I’d not only seen him in action, I’d felt him in action. My ass was still sore from the last time he’d taken out his frustration on me. But I was too wound up by his juvenile reaction to give a damn.
“I didn’t do a damn thing to you,” I shouted, unleashing my frustration. “I didn’t whip you until you could barely stand. I didn’t seduce you until you’d forgotten everything you’d ever thought was important--”
Raw, A Dark Romance Page 9
