Six Naughty Nights: Love in Reverse, Book 2 (25 page)

In spite of his forcefulness, he wasn’t doing anything she didn’t absolutely adore deep down. He’d never hurt her—she knew that instinctively. He was perfectly aware how much she was enjoying herself even though she protested otherwise. Still playing the game, he wanted her to beg, to convince him he was everything to her at that moment. And she’d been there—she’d had that desperate need to feel wanted. She knew that pain. And she was happy to play the submissive if it made him feel better.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

She moaned softly. “Let me come, Toby, please.” She didn’t have to completely fake the plea. Her clit throbbed and her nipples burned from the coarse material, but her release remained out of reach all the time he refused to let her touch herself.

“You want to come?” he murmured.

At last… “Oh God, yes.”
 

“Well, you’ll have to wait until I’m ready.” His voice was firm, although his harsh breathing told her she wouldn’t have to wait long.

Shame flooded her at how much his commanding manner turned her on. As a modern woman, she hated being told what to do. Why did she feel so differently in the bedroom? Why did his authoritative manner make her melt?

She pushed back against him, trying to grind herself on him as he moved. “Touch me, please…”

He leaned her on her to stop her moving. “Not yet.”

“Toby, you’re driving me crazy…”

“When—I’m—ready.” His voice was a growl, low in his throat, as he thrust hard. “You can—fucking—wait.”

Lust shot through her. Did he know his filthy language drove her wild?
 

He leaned over her, clamped his mouth in the crook of her neck and sucked hard. She squealed. “You’ll give me a hickey!”

“Yep.” The word held more than a hint of satisfaction as he inspected the bruise. “Now everyone will know you’re mine.”

She tried to fight him and wrench her arm free again. “Don’t talk to me like that; I’m your mistress. You belong to me.”

His hand tightened on hers at her continuation of their role-play. “And this is what you’ve wanted, isn’t it, all this time? To be screwed from behind by one of your slaves, like the whore you are.”

“No, of course not. I’m a lady. I’ll have you punished for this.” Her breasts bounced, nipples grating on the prickly cushions. She’d pay for that the next day, but at that moment it was driving her wild.

“Yeah right.” He knotted his hands in her hair and pulled her head up. “You love it.”

She looked over her shoulder and met his hot gaze. “How dare you treat me like this?”

“Just watch me.” His hips slapped loudly on her butt as he pumped in and out of her. Her muscles burned and moisture ran down the inside of her thighs. On cue, he said, “You’re so damn wet. You want this badly, don’t you? You know what a slut that makes you?”

“Aw, Toby, please…” Cheeks burning, she let her head drop, where it bumped regularly against the back cushion. God, she was so close to coming. She didn’t have to fake the begging anymore. “Do whatever you want to me, just let me come…”

He swore under his breath. Running a hand over her butt, he pulled out of her for a second and laughed as she complained. “Just wait.” He dipped a thumb inside her and collected the wetness that pooled there. Then he filled her again quickly with his iron-hard length, and she gasped. Without stopping his punishing rhythm, he stroked up between her butt cheeks. “See if this helps.” He slid his thumb into her tight muscle.

She jerked at the unfamiliar sensation, her body tightening erotically, and groaned. “Oh… Oh my God.”

“Yeah.” He moved his thumb in and out, matching the pace of his thrusts. “How does that feel? I seem to recall you like being touched here.”

“Oh…” Her cheeks flamed. She couldn’t believe he’d brought that up. “You’re… You’re…” Her words trailed off and she nearly cried with the intensity of the pleasure.

“I’m what? Tell me.” His breath was warm on the back of her neck, his voice silkily smug. The damn bastard was so sure of himself. How did he know the way to control her so competently? He continued to torture her with his thumb, teasing the muscle.

“Evil. I hate you.” She spoiled the curse with an erotic groan.

He gave a deep, sexy laugh. “Yeah, it looks like it.”

“Oh, Toby, please.” She wailed mournfully.
 

He leaned forward. “Yes,” he growled, “beg for me, baby. Tell me you want me.”

“I want you.” She tried to pull her arm away again and groaned as he refused to let go. His hand tightened on hers, almost hurting. He thrust hard, and she bit her lip, desperate for release, suddenly realising that even if she wanted to, she couldn’t break free from him—she really was at his mercy. When had this stopped being a game?
 

He slid his thumb out and slapped her butt again.

“Ouch.”

He did it again, and again, and the final time it stung and she cried out. In answer, he slid his thumb back into her, plunging it in and out more roughly. He wanted to punish her—why? For talking to Matt and Felix in Latin? For liking Felix? Not letting her move, he forced her to take what he was willing to give. She protested, so he slid his thumb in farther, groaning his pleasure as she squealed.
 

“Tell me again,” he demanded.

“I want you, God, can’t you tell?”
 

Her muscle burned, and she squirmed at the exquisite torture, her knees automatically widening until she’d opened right up to him, sprawled on the sofa, devoid of dignity and resistance. Jesus, could she be any more submissive? At some point she’d stopped playing an active role in this sex game. He could do whatever he wished to her and she’d be powerless to stop him.

Fuck if that wasn’t the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced.

“When you’re with me, you won’t ever look at another man,” he said fiercely, pumping so hard she thought he might drill her into the sofa.

“I won’t, I swear.” She was panting now.

“You’re mine. Say it,” he snapped.

“I’m yours.” A tear ran down her face and her heart ached at the reality of the words. This so wasn’t a game. “I’ve only ever been yours.” Her nipples were so sensitive she could have screamed, and her whole body throbbed hungrily, desperate for release.
 

His thrusts grew gentler, as if he could sense her heartfelt emotion, and he squeezed his fingers where they linked with hers. “Okay, baby, here it comes. Get ready.” He released her hand, whacked her butt hard and then slipped his fingers beneath her to press on her clit.

She clenched as her skin stung from the spank and came immediately, and he exclaimed out loud as he erupted into her at the same time. She squealed, shocked at the intensity of the orgasm, squashed beneath him as he pushed her down hard into the cushions and continued to thrust until he’d completely emptied into her.

Her muscles pulsed and pulsed, and when she’d finally finished she lay there in an exhausted heap until he lifted himself off and collapsed onto the sofa beside her.

He pulled her into his arms. “Fucking hell.” His glazed eyes studied her with awe. “You are incredible, Esther Tyler.”

She buried her face in his neck. “Oh God, don’t.” How embarrassing. She’d completely unravelled in his arms. He was right—she
was
the world’s biggest whore.

He kissed her hair. “Look at me.”

“No.” She’d rather die.

He forced her chin up. His warm eyes caressed her. “You’re fantastic, you know that?”

“You too.” Her cheeks burned, and he smiled and kissed them.

Then he stretched out, and she curled up against him, comforted by the tightness of his arm around her.

Outside, a kiwi called in the bush as their breathing slowed and the sweat cooled on their skin. Her thoughts drifted hazily—brief replays of the sights and sensations she’d just experienced mingled with the thoughts and emotions spiralling through her.
I’m yours
, she’d said, and the truth had brought tears to her eyes. But she’d only said it in the passion of the moment. It was all part of the role she’d been playing. Wasn’t it?

After a while, he shifted onto his side, propping his head on a hand so he could study her.

“Hey,” he said, smiling.

“Hey.” She couldn’t stop the shy blush that crept over her cheeks. “You’d make a terrible slave.”

He chuckled. “Is that a complaint? Did you not enjoy it?”

She shrugged but couldn’t stop her mouth curving in a smile.

He kissed her. “I didn’t hurt you?” Worry flickered across his face.

“No, of course not.” She loved his rough play, but she also adored how he could be so gentle sometimes. Then she rubbed her butt. “My ass is sore though.” He pulled her forward to look at it, and she frowned at his wince. “What?”

“There may be a handprint on it.”

“Jeez,” she said. He pulled an
eek
face and she rolled her eyes. “A bit late for guilt now.”

“Sorry, honey. You do strange things to me. You make me all…” He shifted uncomfortably.

“Horny?”

“Hah. That too. But I was going to say ‘forceful’. I don’t know why. I’m not like that normally.” His lips twisted wryly.

“Funny, because I don’t think I’m submissive outside the bedroom either.”

He snorted. “No. Definitely not.” He smiled and kissed her. “I guess that makes us pretty well matched between the sheets.”

She wasn’t going to think about that. Reaching up a hand, she scraped the pads of her fingers along his bristles, pondering on how he’d nearly had a change of heart. “Are you glad you didn’t take me back now?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
 

“What?” She was surprised to see the sad look return to his face.

“I’m sorry.” His brown eyes looked troubled.

“What about?” she said, genuinely puzzled.

“I know I have no right to be possessive. I shouldn’t have said that to you about not looking at another man. I know I’m being an idiot.” He was clearly uncomfortable with the way he’d acted.

“It’s okay,” she said lightly, determined not to make it into an issue. “We were role-playing. We all say things we don’t mean in the heat of passion.”

“I guess.”

“For example,” she added, somewhat mischievously, “I’m hoping you don’t really think I’m a whore.”

He grinned and tipped his head from side to side in a “maybe I do, maybe I don’t” kind of gesture.

She smacked his arm, and he caught her hand and kissed her fingers. “Like I said,” he continued, his voice low and husky, “you’re
my
whore. That’s completely different.”

Her heart rate increased at his emphasis on the word “my”. In spite of his apology, it had a ring of possessiveness about it. But then it made sense, didn’t it? She was the mother of his child, and even though they weren’t involved as such, he wouldn’t necessarily want her going off with other guys under his nose. Yes, it might be a bit dog-in-the-manger, but she could understand it. She wouldn’t want him dating other girls in front of her either.

Although, of course, he would date again, and soon probably. Next time she saw him, whether he came down to Christchurch or Dunedin or wherever she ended up going, he’d probably have a partner. Perhaps he’d bring her with him to meet his son. This girlfriend would want to please Toby, so she’d probably fuss over Charlie and spoil him rotten. And he’d put his arm around her and be all pleased and kiss her, and then…

Esther blinked at the disturbing images. There was no point in worrying about the future. So much could happen in the meantime. Maybe she’d meet someone else too, and then when Toby visited with his girlfriend, the four of them could go out together.

Depression settled over her, and her shoulders slumped. Way to go, Esther. Thinking about meeting the next guy when she was still in bed with the present one. What a ho. And anyway, she didn’t want to meet anyone else. The thought of another man touching her repulsed her.

She caught her breath. The statement may have been true, but the notion shocked her. So what was she saying—she wanted to remain single for the rest of her life? Didn’t she ever want to settle down, get married? Provide Charlie with a father who could be around all the time?

Her chest tightened at the thought. Toby was Charlie’s father. She didn’t ever want another man claiming that relationship, and neither, she suspected, would Toby.

“What?” A frown appeared between his eyes as her body tensed.

“Nothing.” She pushed herself up off the sofa. “Come on, we’d better get going and pick up Charlie. He’s probably driving poor Cath around the bend.”

He caught her wrist as she went to stand and pulled her toward him. She fell onto his chest, her hair tumbling around him.

“Hey,” she protested.

He looked deeply into her eyes. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” She tried to push herself up again.

“Esther…”

“Let me go.” She whacked him, irritated at her feelings. “I don’t have to explain every little thought that goes through my head.”

“True.” He released her and watched her collect her clothes and walk through to the bedroom.