by HELEN HARDT
“Yes, God. Please.”
He brushes his lips against the top of my throat. “How do you want me to touch them, baby?”
“I don’t care. Just touch them. Please.”
“What if I don’t? What will you do?”
What? What can I do? Nothing. I can do nothing if he doesn’t touch my nipples. What kind of mind game is he playing with me? Perhaps he’s simply teasing me, and I’m so not in the mood for teasing. I meet his fiery blue gaze. “I… I’ll leave.”
He moves backward, releasing my breasts. “Go ahead. You’re not obligated to stay here.”
Seriously? He gets me all hot and bothered and then wants me to leave? I’m ready to call him out on this little mind fuck until I drop my gaze to his crotch. His tux trousers are tented. Big-time.
He doesn’t want me to leave.
Two can play this game.
I clear my throat. “Fine. But I’ll need a…shirt or something.” An overcoat would be better.
He shoots darts at me with his eyes.
Do I repeat myself? He knows I can’t leave here without something covering the top of me, and my bra and dress are in tatters. I open my mouth to speak, but he pushes me back against the wall, his hands gripping my shoulders. He moves toward me slowly until our lips are only millimeters apart. He’s playing again. I know because his lips are trembling. He’s using all his will to keep from kissing me. I’m not completely sure, but that’s my take.
I close the distance and press my lips to his.
He pulls back, still gripping my shoulders. “I thought you wanted to leave.”
“I thought you wanted me to leave.”
“When did I say that?” he queries. “You’re the one who brought it up. What kind of a game do you think I’m playing, Skye?”
“I…don’t know.”
“That’s because I’m not playing a game. You may think this is a cat-and-mouse thing, but it’s not. I enjoy making you want me.”
“Braden, you know I want you, but if you ever tell me to leave again, this whole thing is over.”
“Is it?”
I gulp. How much will I give up to remain in charge? How fucking much?
“I’m afraid so.”
His bulge is still apparent. He won’t let me go. He won’t.
He releases me, walks through the entryway to a large door, and opens it. He pulls something out and walks back, handing it to me. It’s a blue cardigan.
“Go ahead, Skye. Leave.”
Chapter Twenty-One
If you ever tell me to leave again, this whole thing is over.
Leave.
This is a strange and frightening game I’ve walked into. I don’t want to leave, but that’s not the most frightening part.
The truth is that I can’t leave. Can’t force my arm to extend and take the sweater. Can’t force my feet to move the few feet to the door.
I can’t.
Braden’s power over me is that strong, that omnipotent.
And that’s the most dangerous part of this.
But I said it would be over if he told me to leave. I fucking said it, and if I don’t do it, I’m nothing but a weak-willed mouse.
Think, Skye, think. How do you get out of this?
I wait. I wait for him to tell me again to take the sweater and leave. He doesn’t. He simply stands three feet away from me, the sweater dangling from his hand.
Stalemate.
I have two choices. I can take the sweater and leave, or I can stay, effectively giving up control over this situation.
My body wants one and my mind wants the other.
Frankly, my body’s argument is a lot stronger.
I open my mouth to say I’m staying when Braden finally closes the distance between us, dropping the sweater and again gripping my shoulders. He’s not hurting me, but his grasp is firm and I can tell he means business.
“No more games, Skye,” he whispers darkly. “Give in to me tonight, and I promise you more pleasure than you’ve ever known.”
His words enter my mind slowly in a deep drawl. Again and again they weave into me, searing my brain with their power. My body is hot and bothered, thighs quivering, pussy pulsing.
Give up control. Give up control.
“No more games,” I whisper.
He kisses me. Hard.
Harder and deeper than ever. His own ache and hunger feed into me, and something in me blossoms. He breaks the kiss and then scrapes his teeth over my jawline and down my bare shoulder. My nipples are still hard and wanting, and this time he takes one between his lips and gently kisses it. Just that tiny contact sends me reeling.
He strengthens his hold on me, which is good, because my legs have turned to mush. My whole body aches with the throbbing in my clit. The soft friction and wet slide of his tongue around my nipple sends electricity shooting to my core. He’s being too gentle. He’s teasing me, driving me wild with desire.
So much for his “no more games.”
Or maybe this isn’t a game. Maybe it’s part of his plan—his plan to give me pleasure I’ve never known.
I have some sexual experience. I’ve been with three different men, one during college and the other two in the last three years. Even though an orgasm eluded me, I’ve been told I’m good in bed.
Braden, though, makes me feel like I’m being touched for the first time, kissed for the first time, licked for the first time. Like I’ve never experienced any of this before, and I want it all. I want it all now.
He teases my other nipple with his fingers while he sucks at the first. I gasp and thread my fingers through his unruly hair as his head bobs against my breast. He finally releases the first nipple, glides his lips over to the second, and clamps his mouth around it. No teasing this time. He full-on sucks it.
A low moan emerges in my throat, and I pull at his hair. He groans in response.
“Is your pussy wet for me?” he says against my flesh.
“God, yes.”
“I can smell how much you want me.”
He releases my nipple and slides his hands down my abdomen, pushing the dress off me to the floor. I stand only in my black panties. He lowers his head and inhales.
I always thought panty sniffers were kind of gross, but when Braden sniffs me while my panties are still on, it’s incredibly hot.
He inhales again and then slides my panties over my hips. They land within the circle of the dress.
I’m naked.
Naked and horny and completely at his mercy.
That should frighten me. Indeed it does, but it also thrills me. Utterly electrifies me.
This is what giving up control feels like, and I’ve only just begun.
He trails his tongue over the top of my vulva, which is freshly shaven and smooth this time. He spreads my thighs and flicks his tongue over my clit. I inhale sharply and he tilts his head, meeting my gaze.
“Bedroom,” he rasps. Then he stands and pulls me—naked while he’s still fully clothed in his tux—to the gorgeous room where I first experienced euphoria.
Where I can’t wait to experience euphoria again.
The view entrances me once more, though I don’t have much time to enjoy it. Braden leaves me standing by the bed and walks to his highboy. He opens a drawer and pulls something out.
Before I have time to think, he ties the item around my head, blindfolding me. The fabric is cool against my eyes. Silk, most likely.
I open my mouth to—
Then I close it. What can I say? I gave in for tonight. No, I didn’t expect to be blindfolded. What else does he plan to do to me?
Shadowy images play in my head, both scary and erotic, as I recall the strange thing hanging above his bed.
“Don’t speak,” he says. “Just enjoy.”
“Enjoy what?”
“I told you not to speak.” His voice is ominous and commanding.
I won’t speak again.
“Because I’ve taken your sight,” Braden says, “your other senses will be enhanced. You won’t see what I do to you, but you’ll smell it, taste it, hear it.”
“What if—”
“Skye,” he says gently, “if you speak again, I’ll punish you.”
Punish me? Like hit me? Oh, hell no. I rip the blindfold off my eyes. “I didn’t sign up to be beaten.”
“Who said anything about being beaten? What kind of man do you think I am?”
“You said you’d punish me. What other kind of punishment is there?”
He meets my gaze, his eyes heavy-lidded and smoldering. “You’re about to find out.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I shudder as chills sweep over my body. My nipples and areolas tighten at the coldness, but my pussy remains warm and wet. My body is a mass of mixed signals and dichotomous temperatures.
It’s thrilling.
I don’t want to be punished.
But God, I do.
How frightening that someone who so values control wants punishment? That I want punishment.
“Are… Are you going to hurt me?”
“Only if you want me to.” He slips the blindfold onto my eyes once more. “Keep it on this time.”
“But are you—”
“Punishment doesn’t have to hurt, Skye. At least not physically.”
“So you’re still going to…?”
“Punish you? Oh yes.”
Shivers rack my body, and still my core is hot as a sunny day. “How—”
“No more talking,” he commands. “You’re used to being in control, Skye, so I’m trying to be lenient. But I have my limits.”
I open my mouth—
“Do you want to be gagged?”
I shake my head vehemently.
A warm breeze wafts over my ear. It’s Braden’s breath. He nips my earlobe. “The first thing I noticed about you was your sexy mouth. The second thing was your amazing rack. But the third thing, Skye, was what truly drew me to you. Do you know what it is?”
I shake my head.
“When you dropped your purse, you wouldn’t accept my help. You had to maintain a semblance of control in the situation. Then there was the condom.”
I bite my lip.
“Yes, I saw it. Another way you keep your life in control.”
“Because I don’t want to get pregnant?”
“It’s more than that, and you know it. If a situation arises where you want to have sex, you’re ready. You don’t have to rush to the pharmacy for protection.”
“A lot of women carry condoms around.”
“Less than you might think. Some depend on other methods, or they run to the pharmacy as needed. Some are concerned only about pregnancy and not diseases.”
“And you know this because…”
“I’ve been with a lot of women.”
Well, I asked for that one.
“I had a feeling about you. About your need for control. Then, after our first dinner and my attempt to seduce you, I knew for sure.”
My mouth twitches, but I don’t respond.
“I recognized it in you. I recognize it in people because it’s part of who I am as well.”
I nod. His words don’t surprise me. At least not the part about who he is. What’s odd is that he wants someone with the same tendencies.
“I wouldn’t be where I am today without knowing how to exercise control in every situation.”
I nod again. This not-talking thing is becoming more bearable. Is he still going to punish me? I both love and hate the idea.
“That includes controlling you, Skye. Right now, I control your pleasure. I have leverage over you. Do you understand?”
I don’t respond. Is this a game to him? Seduce someone who’s used to being in charge and take that away from her? I’m not sure how I feel about that. All I know is I still want him. I want him more than ever.
“I asked if you understand.”
I’m not sure I do, but I nod once more anyway. I’ve come this far, and I’m not leaving without an orgasm.
He pushes me down onto the bed. “Lie down.”
I obey. What else can I do?
He spreads my legs and draws in a breath. The swift intake of air whooshes in my ears. He’s right. My sense of hearing is heightened.
“Your scent intoxicates me, Skye,” he whispers, his breath a cool breeze against my thighs. “I can sit here between your legs forever and never get tired of it.” He inhales again, this time holding his breath longer until he exhales, again cooling my flesh.
A soft sigh emerges in my throat. Can I sigh? Does that constitute talking? I hold it back, going rigid.
“Relax, baby. No need to tighten up right now.” He inhales once more. “As much as I adore your smell, you taste even better.”
His tongue begins at my perineum and slides up over my slit to my clit. I gasp sharply. He glides over my clit, swirling around, and then he closes his lips around it and sucks ever so slightly. He’s lighting my fuse with his slow and deliberate movements, and he’s driving me wild.
I let a sigh escape this time, and a moan follows. Who cares if it goes against his no-talking rule? I need to release the tension somehow. I controlled the last sigh, but he asked me to give up control. Part of that is making the noises my body needs.
He doesn’t berate me for releasing the sounds. In fact, he seems spurred on, and he increases the speed of his tongue. I grip the comforter in both my hands and arch my back, undulating my hips as I chase his tongue. He’s deliberately ignoring my clit now. He shoves his tongue into my pussy and then licks and pulls on my labia. God, it feels so good, but I need… I want…
Yes! A short lick on my throbbing clit. The fuse is lit once more. Keep going, Braden. Please keep going.
But he strays again, going back to eating my pussy. “You’re so wet,” he says against my flesh. “God, you drive me wild, Skye. You’re so responsive to everything I do.”
Yes. Yes, I am. Please. Please. Please let me come.
As if in answer to my thoughts, he slides his tongue up my pussy and grabs hold of my clit once more, this time nipping harder. Once. Twice. Then three times. The fuse is burning. Almost there.
He thrusts two fingers into my heat, and—
He releases my clit.
His fingers penetrate me, fill me, and the ache of the emptiness begins to wane, but the fuse has burned out. He released my clit too soon.
Damn!
I bite my lip to keep from demanding what I want.
And then it dawns on me.
He knows exactly what I want. My body speaks volumes louder than my mouth ever can.
He knows.
He fucking knows.
He’s doing this to me on purpose.
This is fucked up. If I knew my own body better, maybe I could force an orgasm. But I don’t orgasm on demand. I never have. As much power as I exercise over my own life, I could never attain climax by myself or with someone else.
Not until Braden Black.
And now he’s holding it over me, dangling it like a carrot in front of a rabbit’s mouth.
He pushes my thighs forward and lowers his tongue, sliding it over my asshole. I tense. No one has done that before, and it feels… It feels…
“Oh!”
He’s jabbing his tongue into my ass gently, but it feels like a probe.
Smack!
His hand on my ass. I jerk against the sting of his slap to my ass cheek.
“That’s for talking.” Then he slides his tongue back over my asshole and up my pussy again.
My clit is throbbing in
time with my rapid heartbeat. Before I can think, I let my hand wander to my vulva. If I can just touch my clit, just one little flick…
Braden grabs my wrist. “No, you don’t. That clit is mine tonight. No one touches it but me.”
“But I have to come.”
The blindfold slides off my eyes, and he meets my gaze. His chin and lips are wet from my juices, and he’s chuckling. He’s fucking chuckling!
“I told you I’d punish you for talking.”
“The smack?” I say.
“No, that was for pleasure.”
Pleasure? It hurt, but only minimally. Now my cheek is warm where his hand was. Warm and tingly…and yes, it feels nice.
I never imagined.
What’s the punishment, then?
His lips form a suction against my clit once more, and his fingers are ramming in and out of my pussy. I shudder on the bed, my hips moving frantically against Braden’s lips and tongue. His delicious fingers massage the inside of me in a deliberate way that drives me nearly to the edge. My God, my God, my God…
The fuse is lit again, and it’s burning, burning, burning…
Until he pulls away from my clit and removes his fingers from my pussy.
He moves forward, the texture of his shirt abrading my nipples. They’re so hard. Every part of me is wound tighter than a bowstring.
He presses his lips to one nipple and then the other before he kisses my lips chastely. I taste myself on him. The citrusy tang of my juices.
“Do you understand now, Skye?”
“Understand what?”
“That punishment doesn’t have to physically hurt.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tension is coiled through me. I’m covered in slick perspiration, and my clit is throbbing in time with my heart.
That orgasm… The one I wanted so badly…
“I was right,” I say when I can finally relax enough to speak. “You knew what you were doing the whole time.”
“Of course I did.”
“You freak.”
“What’s freakish about denying you a climax?”
“Most men love it when their partner comes,” I say.
“I’ve never in my life been ‘most men.’” His eyes are heavy-lidded. “That’s not to say I don’t enjoy it when you come. I do, actually. I enjoy it a lot.”
