Chapter 15
Arianna
My adrenaline is pumping like never before, six hours later. I’m squealing, too, because Dallas lifted me over his shoulder and carried me upstairs to his room when I wouldn’t obey his demand that I’d spent enough time in the library.
He doesn’t set me down until we’re in the attached bathroom.
I bat at him when he pulls my shirt over my head. “Stop it,” I argue weakly.
He gives me his usual Wilde smirk. “Even though we had that room cleaned, it’s musty. You need a shower before dinner. I don’t want you going to bed with God-only-knows what on you from those old books.”
He’s right. I need a shower, but I don’t need help. I shove at his hands again, but he’s more deft than I gave him credit for. My bra slides down my arms before I can wiggle free of his clutches.
Dallas squats in front of me to remove my shoes and socks, and while I’m still reeling from the way he’s manhandling me, he drags my leggings and panties off, too.
“How am I naked so often while you’re fully clothed?” I ask, crossing my arms over my breasts.
He reaches in to turn on the shower.
I cock out a hip. “I’m capable of undressing and bathing myself, you know.”
“Yep.” He tips my chin back with one finger and kisses me. “You’re capable of all kinds of things, I assume, otherwise you wouldn’t have survived on your own for so long,” he teases.
“Ha ha.”
He cups my face and smiles, staring into my eyes in a way that makes me melt. “You were so happy in the library today. Happier than I ever saw you in the public library.”
My eyes widen. “Do you have any idea what hidden treasures are in your grandfather’s library?
The town library doesn’t hold a candle to it.
Tomorrow, I want to take a laptop in there so I can start looking some of the older books up to see what they’re worth.
There are some first editions that are almost a hundred years old.
I’m afraid to touch them. Every time I pick up a new book, I open the spine slowly and carefully, just in case I’m holding a national treasure. ”
“Is that why you asked me to get you a pair of gloves?”
I nod. “I don’t want to get my fingerprints or any oils from my skin on those books. I probably have no business touching them. I’m not qualified. You should hire a professional to do the cataloging. Someone from the National Archives or Smithsonian or something.”
He chuckles, even though I was only marginally kidding. “And spoil your fun so I can’t see your face lit up like this every day? Never.” He kisses me. “I have no doubt you are more than qualified to catalog the books, baby.” He turns me around and pats my butt. “Get in the shower.”
When I turn toward the tub-shower combo, I chuckle. “This is not the shower curtain that was in here earlier.”
“I replaced it.”
“Of course you did.” He’s replaced it with a clear plastic curtain that he can see through.
I shoot him a glare over my shoulder as I step over the edge of the tub.
“You’re not going to wash me?” I taunt. He does damn near everything for me.
The man fed me breakfast because he said he didn’t trust me to keep eating while I was so excited about the library and couldn’t stop talking about the books.
Lunch was similar. He hauled me out of the library and into the kitchen, sat me down, put food in front of me, and pointed at my sandwich every time I left more than a few seconds between bites.
It was the fanciest, most delicious sandwich I’d ever eaten. Everything I’ve had here has been amazing. Gretchen is a wonderful cook.
I reach to close the curtain to avoid getting water all over the bathroom, but Dallas stops me, leaving it pulled about two-thirds of the way across. It’s probably enough to avoid soaking the floor. Even though it’s see-through, why am I not surprised he wants a direct view?
I close my eyes as I let the water run down my body. How have I managed to end up naked in front of a man I met nine days ago? A man who’s watching me shower so intently I can feel his gaze. He’s hungry for me, but it’s his own archaic rule that’s keeping him from having me.
I could get used to this alternate universe I’ve fallen into. One where I never have to cook because I now have Gretchen. One where a man dotes on me every moment. One where I have more rare books to explore than most museums.
I grab my own shampoo from the corner of the tub. At some point, he must have put my toiletries in here. Not surprising. When I lift my arms to wash my hair, a breath hisses out of him. I can’t keep from grinning. I’m sure my rather large breasts are accentuated with my arms raised.
Dallas is hovering. I don’t have to open my eyes to know he’s inches away from me. I feel his intensity and decide to toy with him. With my hands covered in bubbles, I slide them down from my hair to my breasts, molding my palms around the full globes and squeezing gently.
A low growl fills the room, but I keep my eyes closed and ignore him. To continue my torment, I pinch my nipples between my pointers and thumbs and pluck them several times before twisting and pulling on them to the point of pain.
I had no idea I might enjoy a little pain with my sex until this week. How could I know? Now that he has suckled my nipples and spanked me, I’m fully aware that I have a bit of a masochistic side.
Leaning back, I rinse the shampoo out of my hair while I flatten one hand on my torso and smooth it down to my pussy. The moan that escapes my lips is real, even though I’m putting on a show. As soon as I stroke over my clit, my knees nearly buckle.
I’ve been hypersensitive since I first met Dallas, and my arousal keeps growing by the day. He’s got a spell on me, and it might be permanent. If it is, I wonder how many days, weeks, or months I’m going to feel this constant arousal. If I’m with him all the time, I suspect it will not subside.
I reach farther, dragging my finger through my folds.
Suddenly, Dallas grips my wrist. “You may rub your clit, baby, but if you put that finger inside your sweet cunt, I will punish you.”
I open my eyes and meet his gaze. This man brings out a side of me I never knew existed. The fact that he now knows all my secrets and has shown no indication he will turn away from me has deepened my feelings for him. My fear of rejection has been eliminated.
Him punishing me is going to be part of my life. I can already tell I’m going to enjoy it. Nothing he has suggested as a means of discipline has turned me off in any way. He’s given me cause to hesitate a few times, but even the threat of plugging my ass is not enough to stop me from tempting fate.
With the exception of tampons, I’ve never pushed a finger or any other object into my pussy. I’ve never even thought about it until the past week. Stroking my clit has been sufficient to get myself off to visions of Dallas. But if he’s going to order me not to do something…
Chances are I will defy him for the rest of our lives. I’m going to do so because I like to hear him growl and I like how dominant and demanding he is. I’m going to push and push, and then I’m going to love whatever discipline he doles out.
As I stare directly into his eyes, I ease my pointer into my channel. I only make it to the first knuckle before he tugs my wrist away from my pussy.
“Tsk tsk. Such a naughty girl.”
Dallas is fully clothed, and I’m not sure what he will do next, but I don’t care. I start giggling.
He chuckles. “Turn to face the wall, naughty girl.”
I’m trembling as I obey him.
“Hands flat on the tile above your head,” he orders.
I do that, too. I probably should have thought about my actions more thoroughly before I made this decision because I really need to come. I suspect that’s not going to happen now. I should have given myself an orgasm and then tempted fate.
“Spread your legs, baby.”
I glance over my shoulder to see him pull his shirt off. Good. I want his hands on me in whatever form that might look like. Pleasure, punishment, or both. He angles the spray toward the wall and pushes the curtain open.
I part my feet about shoulder distance, and the next thing I know, his hands are on me. Slippery hands. He’s washing me. He doesn’t say a word as he quickly washes my body, skipping my breasts, which I most thoroughly already washed.
He doesn’t linger when he swipes over my pussy. The rest of me gets very clean. He even puts conditioner in my hair. “Step back into the spray so I can rinse your hair but keep your hands away from your body.”
I’m panting as I do as I’m told. It’s shocking how much I enjoy following his demands. My pussy is dripping. Luckily, he can’t know that with me standing under the spray.
As soon as he decides I’m rinsed enough, he shuts off the water and takes my hand. “Step out.”
I look at him and giggle. His jeans are soaked.
He smirks as he grabs a towel and pats me dry before wringing out my hair. “Keep laughing, baby. Keep laughing.”
I sober slightly at his tone. I’m not scared. I’m curious.
Finally, he points toward the bedroom. “On the bed, elbows and knees, ass facing me, thighs wide.”
I shudder as I move in that direction. The position he’s commanded me to assume is going to be very embarrassing. He’s seen me naked several times now, but I’ve never put my butt on display for him. He will see my tight rosette without having to pull my cheeks apart.
I climb onto the bed without daring to look over my shoulder. There are some things I’m probably better off not knowing ahead of time, but I can hear him opening drawers and shuffling around.
When Dallas comes to me, he sets a few items on the bed near my knee, but I don’t look. In fact, I close my eyes.
I gasp a moment later when he parts my cheeks and holds them open. For long seconds, that’s all he does. Expose me.
“Such a pretty hole,” he says. “I’m going to enjoy seeing it plugged.”