Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Lyra
“Don’t touch yourself.”
“Don’t—?”
“Touch yourself,” he repeats. “In fact, I want you to tuck your hands beneath your pretty little ass.”
“You…” I blink at him. “What?”
He returns to stand above me.
My tummy turns a somersault at the sight of him—all strength, nakedness, raw power—standing over me, half-hard cock jutting forward in promise. In threat.
Then he squats, his thighs spread wide, his balls hanging heavily between his legs.
In an instant, his face is within inches of mine.
I feel sensually threatened. My clit throbs furiously, and I want to push my luck to see how he responds.
What will he do if I defy him?
“Tuck your hands under your ass,” he repeats, each word clipped. “Unless you’d like me to do it for you?”
Testing him, my gaze focused on his, I slide my hands down my tummy, toward my pussy.
Instead of scowling, he smiles.
That terrifies me more than anything. “So this is how you want to play it.”
His words are a statement, not a question.
He moves so fast I barely register what’s happening.
Within moments, he has secured my ankles and lifted my legs straight up in the air. Then he presses forward, bringing my knees close to my head.
The position lifts my rear slightly off the floor. His gaze on me, his lips formed in a sexy grin, he delivers two swift, stinging spanks on my bare buttocks.
Gasping, I squirm, trying to escape.
Bastard.
Heat blossoms and tumbles through me, leaving me even more aroused than I already was.
Damn him.
“Now, Allie, you’re going to obey me like my good girl.” He grins wickedly, awfully. “Aren't you?”
I blow out a breath. My mind is spinning, and I’m torn between wanting more of that terribleness and behaving so that he’ll give me an orgasm.
“Your call.” He brings back his hand again, watching, waiting for my reaction.
What is wrong with me?
I never imagined I was a woman who’d enjoy something like this, let alone goad him into giving me more.
“Allie?”
Stubbornly I keep my mouth clamped shut.
“In that case, you’ll get five.”
He gives me the first one, a light, stinging slap on the upper curve of my right buttock, the sound cracking sharp in the quiet room.
I yelp as the heat blooms, spreading like wildfire over my skin.
Before I can catch my breath, his hand is there, stroking between my thighs, fingers gliding over my slick folds. “Jesus, Allie.” Raw approval threads through his tone. “You’re drenched. Your body loves this.”
My first instinct is to shake my head. I’m mortified by embarrassment, even as my pussy betrays me. “No.”
He chuckles, low and dark, the sound vibrating through me. “Little liar. Your pussy’s telling me a different story.”
The second spank lands lower, on my left cheek, a bit firmer, the sting sharper, making me gasp as my hips jerk involuntarily.
The burn radiates, twisting with the ache already throbbing in my core.
The third comes quick, right in the center of my right buttock, harder still, the impact jolting through me, making my skin tingle.
Without pause, without a word, he slides a single finger inside me, slow and deliberate, curling just enough to tease. I moan. The fullness is nothing more than his cruel promise.
The fourth spank is on the back of my left thigh, right at the sit spot, a searing bite that makes me cry out. Tears prick my eyes as the pleasure/pain crashes over me in waves.
With slow deliberation, he adds a second finger, stretching my pussy, angling his hand until his knuckles brush that sensitive spot inside, sending sparks exploding behind my eyelids.
My breaths come in pants, my body arching toward him, aching for more.
The fifth is the hardest yet, a solid smack across both cheeks. His force lifts my hips slightly, and the sting blooms deeply and relentlessly, leaving my skin hot and throbbing.
He doesn’t stop—His fingers thrust in earnest now, pumping fast and sure, his thumb circling my clit with ruthless precision.
Pleasure coils tight, almost unbearable. My pussy clenches around him, and slick sounds fill the air as I teeter on the edge again, closer, so much closer than before. Every nerve ending in my body screams for release.
Then he pulls away, fingers slipping free, leaving me empty, aching worse than ever, my clit pulsing furiously, my body trembling with unspent need.
What the fuck?
“We can do this all day long, Allie.” His voice is calm, almost conversational, as he stands. “I think I’d enjoy it. But if you have any hope of coming at all today, you really are going to have to be my good girl.”
The words hit like a slap of their own, sinking deep into my frustration, twisting it with a dark thrill.
I drink in several deep gulps of air as my emotions and physical need battle inside me.
But beneath it all, a spark of surrender flickers. A wild, wicked part of me wants to be his good girl and earn his approval. Another part is annoyed that I feel that way at all.
And above all, my pussy throbs emptily. His denial has become a living thing, and I bite my lip to keep from begging.
Before he walks away, he watches as I tuck my hands beneath my stinging ass cheeks. The pressure on my heated skin is a reminder, a punishment, and a promise all at once.
His footfalls echo off the wooden planks.
I remain in place, stunned, my entire world turned upside down.
I’ve never experienced anything like this in my life.
The fire crackles, and the minutes tick by—or maybe it’s seconds. Either way, time has blurred in the haze of my frustrated desperation.
When he finally turns, my pulse takes off.
His chest is bare and sculpted. Sweatpants are slung low on his hips, and his half-hard cock is pressed against the fabric like a taunt.
In one hand, he holds a damp cloth. A flannel shirt is clutched in the other.
He kneels before me again, filling my vision, making my heart skip its next beat.
His dark eyes are much softer, the predator retreating into something gentler, more attentive. “Let me take care of you.”
His voice is that gravel-over-velvet rumble, soothing the raw edges of my frustration even as it stirs the heat anew.
With the gentlest of touches that shouldn’t be possible in a man so big and strong, he eases my thighs apart and presses the damp, warm cloth against my swollen pussy.
With careful hands, he bathes me, wiping away the slick evidence of my arousal.
“Look at you.” He brushes his thumb across my tender folds. “So beautifully swollen, Allie. Pink and perfect from what we did.”
The words send a fresh throb through me. My clit pulses under the touch that he keeps light and caring instead of teasing.
When he’s done, I sit up and tuck my arms into the flannel shirt that he brought for me. The fabric is soft and worn, carrying his scent—pure mountain air and man.
He takes his time buttoning the front, allowing his touch to graze my skin, lingering at my breasts, my collarbone.
“Give me a second.” He stands to pull a chair closer to the fire, the legs scraping against the floor.
Then he offers a hand to help me up. He settles into the seat and pulls me onto his lap.
“Stryker…”
“Shh.” He tucks a blanket around us, cocooning me in warmth.
When he pulls me against his chest, I’m lost in the way he wraps his arms around me, strong and sure.
Helpless, I snuggle in closer. The steady thump of his heartbeat under my ear is a grounding rhythm, and his skin feels warm against me, even through the shirt.
“I promise you, sweetheart. I’ll make your earlier denial worth it.”
Worth it? “How is that even possible?”
“Delayed gratification. When you finally do come, it will be even more powerful.”
“Easy for you to say.” Restlessly I shift, and the hard rigidity of his erection presses into me.
“You’re not suffering alone, I promise you. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
I push my hand to his chest and press myself back so I can look at him. “Really?”
“Well.” He grins. “Not every time.”
“You have a pure evil streak, Stryker.”
“When it comes to you?” He tucks a stray lock of my hair behind my ear. “Yeah. I do.”
Maybe because of the crackling fire or the warm intimacy between us, I settle back into place again. “If you had any idea what I feel like inside…”
“That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”
I’ve never enjoyed this kind of ease with another human being.
Not just a romantic partner, but a person.
Even when I was little and my mom was still alive, we lived with a constant sense of danger.
I never knew whether my dad would return home from work.
So absolute peace isn’t something I’ve ever truly known.
“How long do I have to put up with this?”
“You’ll know when I’ve decided.”
I wrinkle my nose in protest. “You’re awful.”
“Being petulant won’t help you get an orgasm faster.” But there’s a teasing tone in his voice.
Finally, with a deep sigh, I close my eyes. “Fine.”
“Repeat after me, “Whatever you say, Stryker.”
Gobsmacked, I blink. Whatever you say, Stryker?
He can’t possibly be serious about this?