Chapter 9
Penelope
“Are you eager for me to spread your pretty thighs and fuck your sweet cunt with my tongue?”
“Uh-huh.” That’s exactly what I craved almost more than having his thick cock plunged into my tight pussy. Or even my ass.
“Then you’ll need to be a very good girl.”
I raked my nails down his chest, offering a salacious smile complete with dragging my tongue across my bottom lip. “What if I beg you to lick me? Fuck me?”
His chest rose and fell, his eyes becoming hooded as I casually drew lines of red down his chest. He preferred when I was rough, much like I hungered for his utter dominance. There was nothing he could do to my body that I didn’t crave.
“What are you willing to do?” His voice was his characteristic deep baritone, a rumble that left my pussy aching every time. Only tonight, he was even more demanding.
“Anything.”
While I wrapped my hand around his cockhead, squeezing just as he preferred, he chuckled, the tone even darker. More intense.
Slightly evil.
“You should know better than to argue with me. Your insubordination will not be tolerated.”
“But I wasn’t arguing,” I whispered while keeping my eyes locked onto his. I’d never been so nervous from nothing other than the sound of his voice.
With a slight cock of his head, he pointed toward the bed. “All fours. You know what you need.”
“I’m sorry.”
With a deep breath, he cupped the side of my face, his thick thumb concentrating on my lower lip, swollen from his rough kisses.
His silence created a heightened wave of anxiety, enough so I couldn’t move.
Being paralyzed around him wasn’t new yet felt entirely different.
I hated disappointing him, loathed how he looked at me when I did.
“Never forget you belong to me.”
As soon as he lowered his head, he crushed my mouth with his, the kiss a moment of consuming me. Devouring me. A stark reminder that I wasn’t allowed to taste or touch anyone else.
Not that I wanted to.
He was right. I belonged to him.
Seconds later, he pulled away, tugging on my bottom lip until he was able to slide his thumb inside.
And like a very good little girl, I sucked on the thick digit.
“Yes, you can be such a good girl when you want to be.”
Yet he wasn’t satisfied, backing away into the shadows of the room.
I was lost in the soulful depth of his eyes, moving toward the bed without any hesitation. As I crawled onto the sheets, I did so under his watchful eye. Since the first kiss, he’d captured my body. Now he was after my soul.
When would he come for my heart?
He was so enigmatic, his methods of dominating me allowing me to escape the sheer drudgery of my life. He’d become the controlling factor I never knew I needed in my life.
As I wrapped my fingers around the sheets, I closed my eyes. The feel of the rough pads of his fingers was refreshing, the touch leaving me tingling all over.
When he rolled the edge of the tawse down my spine, I shuddered audibly. When he smiled and with the way his eyes flashed, I sensed redemption at least for now.
The first strike was euphoric.
The second left me breathless.
And by the fifth, I couldn’t care less that I could no longer feel my legs. The sting was extraordinary, slipping ever so slowly into enraptured anguish.
He wasn’t lenient, nor did he have any intention of going easy on me. I’d disobeyed him. His rules. His commands. His requirements.
Crack after crack of the leather strands pulled me into a sweet abyss.
Tears formed in my eyes, yet my core throbbed, my pussy aching from near desperate need. I longed to have his big, thick cock buried deep inside. Fucking me. Claiming me.
Possessing me.
Every ragged breath slipping from my throat kept me lightheaded, the pain almost blinding, but I was soaring to a level I never knew existed.
Before him.
Before the man who’d awakened my soul.
Suddenly, Marlee’s hand snapped around mine, jerking me from the insanity of my daydream that had seemed all too real.
“Girl. You were a million miles away and about to dump a perfectly good glass of Krug champagne. That is a mortal sin, you know.”
My palms were sweaty and I blinked several times before realizing what I’d just experienced hadn’t been real. Goodness. What was wrong with me? Was my lack of sex life the reason I’d fallen into a fantasy coma for ten full minutes or longer?
I half laughed, although I was barely paying any attention to my best friend even if she and the lovely but very pushy bride-to-be had dragged me around Louisville for hours.
The sinful fantasy had caught me completely off guard.
“What is going on with you?” she pressed, still with a grip around my hand since the glass was tilted at a thirty-degree angle.
“I’m fine. Just thinking about work.” I smiled, lifting my eyebrows when she acted as if she wasn’t going to release her hold.
“You’re always thinking about work. I thought when you started a business of your own, taking time off was much easier to do.” Brittney appeared from the dressing room, obviously overhearing the conversation.
“Not just that. The painting arrived yesterday. The one I told you about.”
Marlee’s face lit up. “From what you told me, it sounds incredible. I can’t wait to see it.”
The painting was much larger than I’d remembered. “It’s so evocative.”
“Do you know the artist?”
“An artist by the name of Caspian Trent.”
The gorgeous bride-to-be moved to the platform in front of the set of mirrors. It was Brittney’s final fitting before her wedding. “I’ve heard of him. He paints some of the most provocative art in the world.”
What were the chances the artist worked at the hotel and had been the one who sent me the baskets?
Maybe that’s why I’d won the auction. Another act of bribery.
If so, I should be both furious and feeling a little self-indulgent.
I wasn’t. The art was far too seductive and in a crazy way, almost as if depicting my darkest fantasies.
“Earth to Penny,” Marlee chided. “That painting must be very naughty.”
Nodding, I did my best to shake the strange feeling. “Trust me. It is. And you look incredible, Brittney. Like a princess,” I offered, even lifting my glass.
Brittney took a deep breath, smoothing her hands down the Italian lace. “Do you think Drake will approve?”
Both Marlee and I laughed. “Are you kidding me?” Marlee huffed. “He’s going to want to rip it right off.”
All three of us giggled.
“She’s right,” I interjected. Maybe one day I’d find my Prince Charming. Although I had a feeling mine would be dressed more like Zorro, complete with the whip.
Not a bad thought.
“Well, let’s hope so since abstinence isn’t my jam. Four weeks without sex. Four. Can you believe it?” Brittney held up four fingers, groaning as she did.
Meanwhile, I was musing over how long it had been since sex was even part of my vocabulary. So long I wasn’t certain I could spell the word correctly.
“You have a two-week honeymoon to look forward to,” I tossed out.
“You didn’t answer the question. I thought your hot little business was going well.”
“‘Little’ business is the appropriate word.” My answer was followed with a heavy and very dramatic sigh. Maybe I was feeling a little sorry for myself, which wasn’t like me in the least. I’d always been a go-getter, someone who refused to take a back seat to anything or anyone.
Marlee and Brittney exchanged glances without uttering a word.
“What?” I demanded. “It’s only been a couple months. I have to be very careful.”
“I get it,” Brittney offered. “But you can and if I know your chutzpa and work ethic, which I do, you work all hours of the day and night because you can. And because you’re punishing yourself.” The swoosh of the material as she moved off the platform seemed comical for no logical reason at all.
I slumped further in the seat since I knew I was about to be on the receiving end of one of Brittney’s famous lectures. As a master litigator, there was no chance anyone else could ever win an argument with her.
With Brittney filling her nearly empty champagne glass, I sensed one of her longer scolding sessions. Thankfully, Marlee snatched the bottle from her hand, topping us both off.
We were a captive audience, locked in a bridal shop with an agitated bride. Not necessarily the best way to spend an afternoon.
Marlee even handed me a strawberry and a chocolate truffle. Maybe as bribes. Maybe as appeasement.
“What I’m trying to tell you is that you’re hard on yourself for no good reason.” Brittney was just warming up.
Marlee shrugged. “I noticed when I looked at your page on Instagram this morning you topped one hundred thousand followers.”
Brittney cocked her head, nodding toward me as if to say, ‘See?’.
“Followers don’t necessarily mean money in my bank account.
Yes, because of my reviews and the artwork associated with them, several authors have asked me to design some promos for them.
However, it’s like I’m the Earl Scheib of graphic design.
” When both girls narrowed their eyes, I rolled mine.
“The cheap car paint company? An Earl Scheib paint job?”
Whatever.
My father used to work for them, at least when he felt up to it.
The strange memory collided with the reason the three besties were gathered in a bridal shop, pampered to the hilt by the owners because the fiancé, a rich, successful heart surgeon, had insisted his bride-to-be should be treated like a queen.
“But you’re getting there,” Marlee quickly added.
“Which means a lot of work. I don’t have a nine to five job any longer.” I could feel the tension in the room rising.
Brittney grabbed a chair, sitting down in her twenty-thousand-dollar wedding gown.
Nothing stopped the woman when she wanted to make a point.
“Girl. From the week after graduation, you accepted a job you adored and coveted. But it was never a nine to five scenario. And you were missing out on all the fun stuff.”