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his woman was tormenting him. In a bad way. In a good way. Good and bad. And damn if she didn’t deserve to be punished for what she’d done, both intentionally and unintentionally. His body was on fire. He needed to feed, but Bruce wasn’t there and he was in no condition to go find him. Why? Because his cock’s throbbing was far more agonizing at the moment than the hunger burning in his belly. He wanted to fuck Amanda. No, he
needed
to fuck her.
She was wet.
She was ready.
But he couldn’t take her now.
He fought to rein in his baser urges as he nipped her neck, drawing the scent of her need deep into his lungs. He could taste her arousal in the air, could imagine her wet pussy folds glistening as he parted them to slide his tongue inside her.
His cock, already so hard it hurt, twitched. How he longed to tear off his trousers and shove his cock into her lush mouth, to lick her pussy until she begged him to take her.
Soon.
He nibbled on her ear and smiled as a coat of goose bumps puckered over her shoulder. He loved to watch her body react to him, to his look, his touch. He could only imagine how she’d react to his kiss. Her breasts were rising and falling swiftly, the points of her nipples poking at the smooth material of her top. He imagined pulling one of them into his mouth and drawing hard on them.
“W-what are you going to do?” she asked, her soft voice breathy.
“What do you think I should do?” His fingers still wound in her hair, he moved down her body until one of those little visible peaks was directly in front of his mouth. He looked up into her dilated eyes. “Should I torment you until you beg me to stop?”
Her lips parted. Her eyes widened. But she didn’t speak.
He took that as a yes and closed his mouth over her covered nipple, capturing it between his teeth.
“Oh, God.” Beneath him, she arched her back like a cat, pushing her breast against his face.
He flicked his tongue over the hard tip, up and down, up and down. Releasing one hand from her silken hair, he found the other nipple and pinched it between his finger and thumb.
She slammed her hands on the swell of his shoulders, curling her fingers and digging her nails into his flesh. The pleasure-pain only amplified his need.
“I’m going to punish you until you can’t take any more.” Taking his cue from her reaction, he pulled her shirt up, exposing her tits to his hungry eyes. Damn, those were two of the most perfect tits he’d ever seen. His mouth filled with saliva. His blood boiled in his veins.
“Ohmygod,” she muttered, her eyelids fluttering closed. “This is crazy.”
“Is it?” He couldn’t deny himself for another second. He lowered his head and flicked his tongue over one pink nipple, taking his first taste. Yet another wave of excruciating carnal need blazed through his body, the intensity clouding his mind. He pulled her nipple into his mouth, suckling deeply, drawing the flavor of her skin into his throat. But that only made the agony more unbearable.
Just who was punishing who?
“Ohhhh ... nooooo.” She locked her arms, forcing him back. Her nipple slipped from his mouth with an audible pop. Their eyes met. Hers were full of desperation and lust and confusion. “I can’t.”
“Can’t what?” He licked his lips, savoring her flavor still clinging to them.
“Can’t let you do this.” She pulled her shirt down. But those hard little points poked at the clingy black material. “I’m not... your type.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I don’t...” She hesitated. She licked her lips. He liked the way she did that, could see that pink tongue of hers swirling around the head of his cock. “You know I’m not here to learn about D/s. I’m not a submissive. I’m pretending.”
She wasn’t pretending. Not earlier. Not now. “Are you sure about that?”
She lifted a visibly shaking hand, pointing at the flogger he’d used on Clark. “I’m sure that if you hit me with that whip, I wouldn’t orgasm.”
He felt himself smiling at the thought of flogging her. “Maybe not yet. But you could learn.”
A deep red stain swept up her neck. She fiddled with her hair, using clumsy hands to gather the long waves away from her pretty face. “No, no. I couldn’t.”
He didn’t want to talk anymore. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because I said to.”
“But I told you—”
He cut her off by crushing her mouth under his. She wriggled beneath him for one, two, three seconds, her mouth tight. But by the fourth second, she stopped struggling. Her lips parted, and he slipped his tongue inside her, tasting her, exploring her sweet depth.
He could kiss her forever.
She sighed into their joined mouths, wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. His body sank until it rested on top of her soft curves. Her heat warmed him. Her breath soothed him. Her sweet flavor devastated him. All he could think about was taking her, keeping her, protecting her.
Amanda’s tongue found his. They stroked, they explored, they battled, and, as the kiss deepened, they conquered. One of Amanda’s hands skimmed down his arm, following it to the wrist before slipping between their bodies and brushing over the throbbing bulge at the front of his pelvis. She gasped.
“You see,” he whispered against her lips. “You are my type.” He rocked his hips forward, pressing his engorged rod against her palm. The light rasp of the material over his erection made him shudder.
“But—”
He silenced her again, this time by grazing his teeth over her collarbone. “Haven’t you ever considered the possibility that punishment could be pleasurable?”
“
Pleasant
punishment? What would be the point of that?”
“I’ll show you.” He levered back, his hips still thrust forward, shoved his hands under her shirt, and slid them up to cover her breasts. “I’ll show you how pleasant torment can be.” His palms rasped the turgid peaks. “I’ll take you to the edge of control.” He pinched them, just hard enough to make her tense up all over. Then, when she relaxed slightly, he rolled them between his finger and thumb until she was tight and trembling.
“I ... I don’t know.”
“Don’t let fear hold you back.” He pushed her top up under her chin. “Your tits are beautiful. If they were mine, if you were mine, they’d always be uncovered.” He weighed her breasts, one in each hand. “Perfect.” He took one nipple into his mouth, alternatively suckling and flicking his tongue back and forth over it. Then he moved to the other one, doing the same thing. As he inhaled, the scent of her cream teased his nostrils. The sound of her little gasps and moans of pleasure tormented his ears. The taste of her skin tortured his taste buds. It was going to take every bit of the discipline he’d honed over the years to hold back. But he’d do it. Somehow.
“Now, close your eyes,” he commanded, knowing she was ready.
This is crazy.
What am I doing?
Oh, God, don’t stop
.
Currently sprawled on the couch, Mandy didn’t know what she was thinking. Or what she wanted. Or what she didn’t want. Or what she feared.
All she knew was what she felt.
Need.
Hunger.
Lust.
Desire.
Desperation.
Lust.
Confusion.
Lust.
No man had ever made her so hot, so horny, so freaking confused in her life. What his touches did to her. What his kisses did to her.
Sweet Jesus, he knew exactly how to use his mouth, his hands, and his words to make a girl go crazy.
Was he right? Did she secretly long to be dominated? Would she like being punished? The mere thought of closing her eyes and waiting for the sting of the whip made her feel a little dizzy.
She couldn’t.
“I said, close your eyes.”
Her pussy clenched, yet another gush of cream soaking her panties.
Or could she?
She closed her eyes, as he had asked. Correction, as he’d commanded. He was a dom, and he’d used a strong, domineering tone. And that tone had made her hot. She liked it. A lot. She also enjoyed several other things about this man, like the way he moved, with a fluid, feline grace. And the way he looked at her, his eyes dark, the flicker of something thrilling and dangerous shimmering deep within their depths. She’d never been a sucker for the bad-boy type, but here she was now, trembling, on the verge of orgasm, letting a very bad boy fondle her breasts.
“Take off your shirt.”
Considering the flimsy knit material was shoved up under her chin, it wasn’t such a big deal taking it off. But if he asked her to take off her skirt or her panties, she’d have to refuse.
He pinched both nipples, and she saw stars behind her closed eyelids. He rolled them between his fingers and thumbs, and she bit her bottom lip, trembling at the pleasure. To her dismay, he released one of her nipples, but he didn’t leave it neglected for long. With his tongue, he took slow, languid licks, the movement reminding her of a cat. The hand that had formerly been on her right breast was slowly sliding down her stomach. Lower, lower it inched. And with each small movement it made, the tension in her body wound tighter.
He was heading for her pussy. She just knew it.
Anticipation of his touch between her legs had her gasping, her back arching away from the couch, her hips thrusting up into the air.
“Has anyone ever taken you to the edge, Amanda?” He pressed against her pelvis, forcing it back down.
“No.”
“Good. I’m glad I’ll be your first.” The satisfaction in his voice made her body burn that much hotter. His hand jumped from her lower abdomen to her thigh, skipping the parts of her anatomy that needed his touch most.
She didn’t want to think about that right now. All she wanted was to feel, to enjoy and experience. But a little voice was nagging her, whispering words she didn’t want to hear.
You don’t know this man. He could hurt you.
You’re acting like a slut.
What if he does something you don’t like?
Will he stop if you tell him to?
You’re not this kind of girl.
He nipped that spot on her neck again, the one that made her pussy spasm and made that voice shut up. His hand crept higher, sliding to the inside of her thigh, and her empty pussy started clenching and unclenching, a throbbing heat pulsing through her body. It stopped moving.
Damn.
“Touch me,” she mumbled, arching her neck to provide him better access to the magic spot.
“I am.” He squeezed her boob to illustrate. But his other hand, the one she was hoping would move higher, was still stuck in the same place, inches away from her throbbing center.
“No, you know what I mean.”
“Tell me.” He brushed his lips over hers, the soft caress stealing her breath. “Tell me what you want.” He kissed one eyelid, then the other. It was a sweet gesture, unexpected.
“Between my legs.”
“What’s between your legs?”
He was going to make her say the words, manipulative bastard.
“Touch my pussy. Please.”
“Is it wet?” He scattered little kisses over her upper chest.
“Yes. Very.”
“Hot?”
“Burning.”
A fingertip grazed the thin fabric covering her labia. The touch nearly sent her over the edge. Her back coiled into knots. Her lungs deflated. It was one small touch. That was all. But it was more devastating than any she’d ever experienced. “Mmm-mmm.” He lifted his finger to his mouth. “Open your eyes.” When she opened them, he flicked his tongue over the tip of his finger, and she sucked in a gasp. She could swear she felt his tongue dancing over her clit. “Sweeter than honey.”
She pressed her thighs together and rocked her hips back and forth, trying desperately to rub away the ache in her pussy. It was getting worse by the second. She wanted something big and hard inside her, needed it. Badly.
He kissed her, and she tasted herself on his lips, his tongue. She slid her tongue into his mouth, pulling in his flavor. She hooked her fingers, digging her nails into the rock-hard muscles of his shoulders, and opened her thighs wider. “Touch me again,” she said into his mouth. “Please.”
His finger slipped under the satin crotch of her panties, and in the next heartbeat, the sound of the fabric tearing echoed through the room. Her thighs stretched wider. She lifted her hips off the couch again.