by Sarah Bailey
“Give me a figure.”
She gripped my calf.
“Twenty.”
“And why is that?”
“Ten because I disobeyed you and a further ten for deliberately provoking you.”
Her logic was sound enough. Twenty strikes. I was looking forward to each one. What I was not going to enjoy is the aftermath. The need to find a release. The only person I wanted that from was her. My hand would hurt too much for self-pleasure.
Suck it up and get on with it. Stop acting like a pussy.
“Count for me then.”
Liora took each one. Whilst her voice began to falter when we reached fifteen and her fingers dug into my leg, she kept counting.
“Sixteen.”
Slap.
“Seventeen.”
She let out a strangled cry at the next one. I must’ve hit a sensitive spot. She took a rasping breath.
“Eight...teen.”
Again, I struck her. The sting ran up my fingers. My hand throbbed.
“Nineteen.”
Her arse was so red. I knew bruises would form this time.
Slap.
“Twenty.”
I laid my hand on the bed, needing a break just as much as she did. Neither of us moved for a long moment. When she shifted off me onto her knees, her face was blotchy and tear streaked.
“Lie down on your front for me.”
I put my other hand out and helped her up. She shuffled onto the bed, breathing heavily. I’d left the cream on the bedside table. I applied a generous amount to her raw skin. She whimpered even though I tried to be gentle.
I fetched a clean t-shirt of mine and helped her put it on. Having her clothed took away some of the immediate urge to pin her down and fuck her. It was still there, pulsating in my veins. Would she ever let me?
“Do you need me to do anything else for you?” I asked.
“No.”
I sighed. She was lying. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. She hadn’t eaten today. I left her there whilst I stalked downstairs to the kitchen. After hassling the chef, I came away with a tray for her. I set it on the bed when I got back upstairs. She looked up then.
“You need to eat.”
She moved up onto her knees. The pain she was in very apparent on her face. I slid the tray over to her. I watched her as she dug into fruit and yoghurt.
Sliding the tray back to me when she was done, she didn’t move to lie down again. I picked it up and set it on my desk before returning to her. Her expression was full of caution and shyness radiated from her. It concerned me considering how unashamed she’d been to show her body off to me earlier. She had nothing to worry about on that score. I was well and truly hooked.
“I feel like there are too many sides to you and I get whiplash from how often you switch between them,” she said quietly.
Perhaps she was right. I did wear many masks to survive different situations.
“What side do you want now?”
“I don’t want a side. I want what’s lurking underneath.”
“So you admit you want me.”
“I didn’t say… Don’t twist my words.”
I moved closer, her knees pressed against my thigh.
“You just said you want the real me.”
“And you made it sound sexual.”
I grinned. Well, that couldn’t be helped. She had got naked in front of me. Sex was very much at the forefront of my mind.
“You made it sexual the moment you decided to take your clothes off.”
She spluttered, shut her mouth and scowled. I shook my head. I really had to go deal with my cock, but I didn’t want to be away from her. I reached out, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“I’m not hiding now.”
Her bottom lip trembled as I stared at it. I didn’t remove my hand, instead brushing my fingertips down her jaw.
“I know you’re in pain. I shouldn’t want you, but I do.”
Her hands twisted in her lap. She didn’t look away from me.
“And I don’t think you’re immune to me either.”
My fingers brushed down her neck and over her collarbone.
“Why don’t you stop lying to yourself and me? Perhaps if you did, this wouldn’t escalate into pain and punishment. Don’t you want pleasure, Liora? I can give that to you. I will give it to you.”
I stopped short of touching her breast. My hand hovered over it, waiting for her response.
“You want me to sleep with you when I’m barely a few days out of a two year relationship.”
Her statement made me feel like an arsehole. I was used to feeling that way. I’d had enough grief off James over our father. And yet her boyfriend had nothing to do with us except for me forcing her to break it off with him.
“Don’t bring him into it when this is about you and me. You want real. This between you and me, that’s real. I know you feel it. You can’t deny it, not after the way you kissed me.”
“You kissed me first.”
“We kissed each other.”
The truth was it had been mutual. We’d both moved at the same time as if pulled by a cord binding us together.
“I can’t lie on my back. It hurts too much, Dante.”
Hold on a second, did she mean…?
“You don’t have to.”
I shifted away, sitting up against the headboard and put a hand out to her.
“I never said—”
“Just come here and sit on me before I make you.”
She crawled towards me, swung one leg over mine and straddled me. Having her on top of me made the ache worse. I reached between us and unbuttoned my jeans just to get some relief from the pressure of them against my cock. Her eyes went wide. I realised what she was thinking. I raised an eyebrow. Had I not told her enough times I wouldn’t fuck her until she said yes?
“I’m only going to kiss you.”
Before she had a chance to reply, I tugged her towards me by her neck and planted her lips on mine. That’s when everything flew out of my head, just as it had last time. All I could feel was her and the crackle of electricity which flowed between us. Her hands landed on my shoulders.
Liora kissed me back and it was fucking wonderful. I could taste the fruit she’d eaten on her lips. So damn sweet. She moved closer, her body brushing against mine. From the moment we’d laid eyes on each other, we’d shared an instant connection. And she couldn’t contain or deny the pull.
It wasn’t me who deepened the kiss, but her. As her tongue met mine, a small groan left her throat. That was it. I was fucking lost. My self-control shot to pieces.
One hand pressed against her lower back, the other ran up her side and cupped her breast through her t-shirt. She arched against me when I ran my thumb over her nipple. Not only did she not pull away, one of her hands cupped my face and the other dug into the hair at the back of my head.
I wanted her with a desperation which completely threatened to undo me. My fingers itched to be on her bare skin. Intense, pulsating desire laced my veins. My cock throbbed restlessly, seeking the warmth and wetness of her pussy.
“Liora, say yes,” I whispered against her mouth.
She merely kissed me harder, her fingers digging into my face. I was going to snap. My hand left her breast. I had to know if she desired me as much as I did her. No sane person could cope with such an overload of sensations and be able to resist the urges.
I traced a line down her stomach towards her thigh. I exposed her to me although I didn’t look down. My fingers danced up her inner thigh. Finally, they met her soft curls. She shuddered, clutching me tighter.
I ran my finger down her pussy and groaned. Heat radiated from her. And she was so fucking wet I could barely hold it together. Pulling away from her mouth, I stared at her. Her breathing was as heavy as mine, her pupils dilated and her lips glistened.
“I’ll make you come if you reciprocate,” I
said.
“I…”
“Touch me and I’ll touch you.”
To reiterate my point, I circled her clit with one finger. She whimpered, biting her lip.
“Touch me.”
I hadn’t meant it to come out like a command, but it did. She hesitated, her hands twitching.
“If you don’t then I’m going to leave you here and deal with it myself. I can’t kiss you and not need more.”
She leant away from me and looked between us. Tentatively reaching down, she brushed her fingers along my length through my boxers. It jerked at her touch and I stifled a moan. What the hell was I thinking? Having her touch me was going to be fucking torture.
“I will if you take them off,” she whispered.
She got off me and waited, her eyes expectant.
“Completely off?” I asked.
She bit her lip again and nodded.
“You know if I do that there won’t be any barriers between us.”
“I know what it means.”
I slid off the bed and took my jeans off. I hesitated at my boxers and turned to her. Something about this felt off.
“You’re not ready.”
She looked up at me.
“What?”
“You don’t want to do this, Liora. You’re doing it because I want it.”
“I…”
“Do not lie to me.”
What the fuck was I doing? She’d just offered herself up on a plate to me. It didn’t feel right. None of it did.
“I’ve never slept with anyone after two days of knowing them. With Max, we were together for two years because we were only fourteen when we started dating and with Harrison, it was two months before I let him anywhere close to me. I’ve let you kiss me and touch me and we barely know each other.”
Her eyes fell on my crotch.
“I won’t deny I want you on a physical level, Dante. It feels like a volcano is trying to erupt inside me whenever you touch me. I’ve never wanted anyone in the way I want you and that scares the crap out of me. So no, I don’t want to because I’m terrified of what this means.”
The brutal honesty from her cut me to the core. All my desire evaporated in an instant. If it had been anyone else, I might have ignored what she said and fucked her anyway. This was Liora. The one I wanted, needed for life.
I knelt on the bed, grabbed her by the shoulders and tugged her into my chest. I held her there, my face buried in her hair.
“Then I’ll just have to make you trust me enough to let me in,” I whispered.
And no matter what other bullshit that we had to endure because of my father, I would do what I could to let her see the real me too.
Chapter Seven
Liora
I didn’t think for one second he’d stop after he’d touched me so intimately, but Dante had a habit of surprising and confusing me at the same time. He just held me until I wrapped my arms around his back.
This man made me feel things I wasn’t ready to feel. Admit things I wasn’t ready to admit. And told me he’d make sure I trusted him. I didn’t think that would ever happen. How could I trust a man like him? One who hid behind so many masks. One who made me vulnerable with a simple kiss and touch.
Who was I kidding? Kisses between Dante and I were not simple. They were like two planets colliding, exploding in a ball of flame and destruction. Wildfire catching a forest leaving only chaos and ruin in its wake. How could I ever resist such temptation when it consumed every part of me? That kiss we just shared made me weak. It made me dizzy and if he hadn’t broken it, I would’ve given in. If he hadn’t commanded me to touch him, I would’ve drowned in him completely and given him everything.
He didn’t need to know that. Didn’t need to know how close I’d been to throwing caution to the wind. I had to shut down these emotions and desires raging inside me.
I pulled away from him abruptly. The sharp slap of rejection flickered over his face for a moment before he schooled his features.
I’m not rejecting you. I want you.
The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I kept silent. I’d already told him I desired him on a physical level, but I knew that’s not what he wanted. Dante wanted access into my mind and if I gave that to him, perhaps he’d let me into his. Except letting him in would be a huge mistake.
He jumped up off the bed and paced away to the bathroom. With his back to me, I couldn’t see his expression. And I desperately wanted to know what was going through his head after my admission.
His hand was on the door handle, but he stopped when I spoke.
“Where are you going?”
He stiffened but didn’t turn around.
“To deal with the problem you caused.”
What did I cause?
“What problem?”
He turned his face to me. There was a mixture of agonising desire and irritation painting his features.
“Up until you decided to drop that little bombshell on me, I was sure you’d reciprocate. Now I have to deal with matters myself.”
He didn’t give me a chance to respond. He ripped the door open, walked inside and slammed it shut behind him. I heard the lock click.
Bombshell?
Did he mean me admitting wanting him terrified me? Didn’t he want the truth from me and to know me? I’d never been more truthful about my feelings or emotions with anyone before. In the space of a couple of days, Dante had access to parts of me I never showed anyone. Everything screamed at me to stop letting him in, but my need to understand Dante overrode my common sense.
And deal with what himself?
You turned him on, you big idiot. He wanted you to touch him, to make him come.
The funny thing was, I had wanted to do that too. He’d been the one to stop because he’d assumed I was saying it was okay for us to have sex. What I’d really wanted was unfettered access to his cock so I could learn how to touch him in the way he liked. Trying to please the man who took me and told me I was his was just about the most batshit crazy thing I could think of doing, but a part of me wanted to do it all the same.
It’s what led me to get off the bed and storm over to the bathroom door. I banged on it twice.
“I never said I wouldn’t reciprocate.”
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I heard nothing from beyond the door.
“I would’ve touched you if you’d just let me instead of jumping to conclusions. I still will if you come out here and talk to me.”
Would I?
What the hell was I saying?
The thought of touching him made my core clench and my insides grow molten. I wanted Dante to kiss me again. I wanted his hands on my body, branding me with heat. I just didn’t want to have sex because I wasn’t ready for the fallout it would surely cause inside me.
I was at war with myself. One part of me accepted I was his and the other, the rational part of me, rebelled against the very idea of his ownership.
“I know you can hear me.”
I got no response at all. It frustrated me no end. And when I heard the shower turn on, I stomped away. That’s when the pain decided to resurface, reminding me Dante had physically hurt me. His punishments weren’t something I should welcome. And yet I’d told him exactly how many times he needed to hit me for my transgressions.
I didn’t understand myself around him.
I wasn’t the girl who liked someone who got off on pain, was I?
Did I even like Dante?
I wanted to kiss him, but actually liking him as a person? That was an entirely different ballgame because I knew literally next to nothing about him. I didn’t even know his last name or who his family really were. I knew they must be rich because why else would he be able to afford all of this, but as to how they got rich? Who knew. Would he ever tell me?
What had he said about me learning things about him? I had to earn them. I had to think ab
out how I was going to do that.
Firstly, I was going to put clothes on even if it killed me because standing here in his t-shirt wasn’t doing me any favours. I could smell Dante on it. It flooded my veins with heat which pulsated restlessly, seeking a release. One I knew only he could give me.
I ripped his t-shirt off and threw it on the bed where it taunted me with the scent of its owner. Citrus and sandalwood. Fuck him and his smell invading my nostrils and causing all sorts of unwanted feelings. I turned away from it and opened one of the cupboard doors.
He’d provided me with an entire wardrobe full of new outfits. Ones which I was in no doubt were to please him rather than me. I didn’t question why all the clothes were my size. I had a feeling my father had been complicit in giving Dante information about me. Whether it was forced or not, I didn’t care. He’d still done this to me. Put me in this insufferable situation.
The dresses he’d bought would save me having painfully tight clothes against my heated and sore skin. I selected the least revealing set of underwear. I swore Dante just wanted me trussed up in a bunch of sexy lingerie for his perusal. Dick.
I hissed as I pulled on the underwear. It stung like fuck, but I ignored the pain, putting the bra on. I selected a navy sundress, tugging it over my head. I brushed my hair next, making sure it sat right. Did Dante like my hair short or would he prefer it long? It’d been shoulder length the day I’d met him three years ago.
Christ, why the hell do I even care?
The bathroom door opened. I hadn’t noticed when he’d turned the shower off. When I turned around, Dante stood in the doorway. His black hair was damp and he was only dressed in a robe, but it was wrapped so tightly around him, I couldn’t see any part of his chest. His eyes met mine and his expression gave away his irritation.
“Do you even understand what you’re doing to me?” he asked, his voice vibrating with urgency and need.
“What I’m doing to you? What about what you’re doing to me?”
I wanted to shut down all my thoughts about how sexy he looked standing there with wet hair. My body thrummed at the sight of him. He’d worked me up and I hadn’t had a release.
Had he?
Isn’t that what he said he’d do in the bathroom?