Chapter 32 #2
He places the knife down beside me, the clatter of the metal calling my attention. My eyes latch on to it. My fingers slowly reach for it.
Sliding his hands under my ass, he grips my cheeks and hauls me to him. I fall backwards from the momentum. His lips brush aside the two halves of my underwear, and the attempt I made to sit back up dies a sudden death.
Leaning awkwardly against the wall, I can’t stop a cry from escaping. I should stop him. I know I should. It’s not good for my brain to be this conflicted with my body, but oh gods, no brownie man knows how to do that.
Bowing under the skill of his tongue, I dig my fingers into his dark curls. Moaning, I grind my hips against his mouth. His fingers slip inside me, curling as his tongue licks and claims and worships me.
Panting, I move with him. His tongue moves in long slow licks that set my soul on fire until I can no longer breathe. I gasp for air. Gasp and moan and cry as I buck against him, chasing that beautiful release.
So close. I am so flippin’ close.
“My king!” I pant, writhing beneath him.
His tongue strokes me.
His fingers claim me.
His lips nibble across mine.
Just a few more seconds, and I’ll –
Abruptly, he pulls away. When I try to reach for him, he grabs my hand and kisses the rapid pulse at the base of my wrist.
Licking me off his lips, he murmurs, “That’s punishment one.”
I blink at him in confusion. Punishment? For what?
My eyes widen. Does he know? But how? This cake isn’t even poisoned!
The knife!
My eyes fly to it beside me. My fingers itch with the urge to grab it, but in a one-on-one fight, I know I won’t win.
Still, better to try and fail than not to try at all.
Before I can reach for it, he rises to his feet and skims his lips across mine.
The barest of touches as his eyes sear into my soul.
“The second punishment I owe you,” he murmurs, “I’ll give you right before you leave. ”
Leaning in, he kisses me fully. His tongue tastes of me, so I try to turn away. He grabs my chin, holding me still as he claims my mouth as well as he claimed my pussy. Soon, I’m panting beneath him again and bashfully admitting that when it comes to him, I really don’t have any standards.
Ignoring my shame, I reach forward to undo his belt, but he stops me with a grip like iron.
“Not tonight,” he says. “Tonight is your punishment.”
I whimper in frustration. “What punishment?”
“Do you think I’ve forgotten my promise at your house?”
My brows furrow. What promise? A gasp escapes me as my eyes fly to his. A smirk curls his lips. A dark, sexy smirk that makes me want to service him. To beg him to finish what he started. But he won’t; I know it.
Because this is punishment one.
“Every second you don’t answer is another punishment I will give you.”
And two will come soon.
Panting, I whimper.
Grabbing me by the hips, he lifts me off the counter. I sag against him, my legs not wanting to hold me. What they want to do is wrap themselves around his waist. I clutch at his chest. He moves back. The bastard.
“Go on. Take the plates over while I grab the ice cream.” He runs his lips across my neck. “And if you touch yourself, I’ll chain you to my bed and leave you there.”
Grabbing the plates he pushes into my hands, I stumble into the sitting room. The cutlery rattles as I put it down with shaky arms. My breaths come out in uneven gasps. My brain stays fried. Dear gods, I’m screwed.
No, you’re not, remember? That’s the flippin’ issue.
I press my thighs together as I sit down on the sofa. Flicking my gaze to the kitchenette, seeing him not facing me, I slide a hand down my stomach. If I can orgasm, surely, that’ll reset my br–
“I don’t make light on my promises, Arienna.”
Snatching my hand away, I jerk upright. Needing to keep my hands busy, I grab the cake, then realise I didn’t bring a knife.
“Can you grab…” I trail off as he walks towards me with a bowl in one hand and a knife in the other.
It’s sharp enough to stab him with, but I know I won’t be fast enough.
Forcing a smile, I take the hilt he offers me.
I cut him a slice, then me. “Is that enough?” I ask as he settles in the chair across from me.
His hot, penetrating gaze makes me squirm.
“It’s perfect.” And the way he says that, holding my eyes and not even looking at the cake…
Shivering, I grab my plate and start to stuff my face.
“Want some ice cream?” he asks, offering a spoonful from his bowl. I hold out my plate as he deposits it beside my portion.
“Thanks.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
Lowering my eyes, hoping the ice cream will cool me off, I eat a huge chunk of it. Ew. It’s salted caramel. The worst flavour in the world. Still, I swallow dutifully. The heat in my cheeks does not go down.
I eat another big bite of my ice cream. The following brain freeze fills me with regret. But it’s better than the heat of his eyes making me feverish. Finishing my cake in record time, I jump to my feet. “Well, this was nice. We should do it again tomorrow.” With poison.
“Sit back down. It’s rude to leave before everyone is… finished.”
My traitorous body lowers me onto the sofa.
My heart beats strongly in my vagina.
Archery.
I need to pick up archery.
Shoot him from afar.
Because this close stuff isn’t working.
Holding my gaze, he lifts his fork to his lips.
Mesmerised, I watch as his mouth closes over it. Panting, I reach for the knife and cut myself another slice of cake. I don’t feel like eating any more, but I can’t just sit here and watch him eye-fuck me. If I don’t have something in my hands, I’m liable to jump onto his lap.
Archery, I tell myself firmly.
How hard can it be to learn archery?
As I raise my fork to my mouth, he asks, “Do you have a safe word?”
I choke, very gracefully spitting cake all over my plate. “What?”
He hands me a serviette. With shaky fingers, I take it.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he murmurs with a bit of humour colouring his words.
“Wh-why do you need to know?”
His smile tells me everything.
Oh, bugger, I’m in trouble.
“I, uh, I…” I shove some more cake into my mouth. My second slice gone, I place my plate on the coffee table. It clatters with the same nervous energy that’s rattling my body.
“Mine’s ‘peace treaty’,” he says. His lips close around another bite. I want them to close around me.
“You have…” I swallow. “A safe word?”
“Of course. It’s not exactly a one-way street, now is it?”
I open my mouth, then close it again. I have no idea. No one in brownie can say no. Safe words only exist in Fabia’s books, and I didn’t think they were actually real.
“We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he continues.
“Like leaving me as horny as Zeus?” I mutter. Then gasp in horror, one hand flying over my mouth.
He smiles. “That’s called edging. And trust me, you’ll thank me for it.”
Under the heat of his gaze, I believe him.
Eating the last of his cake, he places his fork on the plate and sets it on the table. “There. I’m all finished. You can go now.”
Disappointment fills me.
But I grasp onto the very, very, very thin slither of sanity I have left and climb to my feet.
Right as I reach for the door handle though, a hand shoots past my face and slams onto the wood.
Strong fingers turn me around. His body cages me in.
Remembering the night in his office, I start to tremble. Electricity shoots through me.
My thighs quiver, still rocking on that edge he left me on.
Looking into my eyes, he murmurs, “I almost forgot to give you your other punishment.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out an egg-shaped toy. The two rows of squiggled runes on the side tell me it’s been spelled to vibrate.
My eyes widen. My breaths become laboured. Holding my gaze, he slips the toy inside me. My muscles clench around it. His fingers press against my clit, making me spasm.
Leaning in, he kisses my neck. Licks his way up to my ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my queen.”
Pulling me aside, he opens the door, then pushes me out.
As I stumble into the hall, my face inflamed, I place my hands in front of me. My jumpsuit is cut, as are my panties.
And the bastard’s just pressed the button.