42. Chapter 42 #2
I loosened my hold on her wrists without letting them go. “Pain can turn hot when you trust the person giving it to you. A spanking can hurt like hell and still make your pussy wet enough to drip down your thighs. The fact that it hurts can be part of why you like it.”
Her cheeks darkened.
“If you hate something, we don’t do it again. If you ever decide all you want from me is ordinary sex in our bed with nothing but my hands on you, I’ll still die a happy man.”
Her lips twitched.
“So if you want to play, give me the safe word.”
She answered almost immediately.
“Orange blossom.”
That stopped me.
Of everything she could have chosen.
Before I’d ever seen her face, before I knew her name, I’d known that faint trace of orange blossom slipping into the dungeon with her.
I smiled.
“Orange blossom?”
“You said something I wouldn’t say by accident.”
“Fair enough.”
“And I’m green.”
I raised a brow.
“Obviously.” She shifted her wrists beneath my hand. “I sent you those pictures, Lachlan. Don’t start treating me like I’m fragile now.”
“I’ve never thought you were fragile.”
“Good.”
I released her wrists.
She moved before I realized what she intended.
Isabella twisted hard beneath my arm, caught the folded belt in her hand, and yanked.
The leather slid out of my grip.
“What the—”
She ducked beneath my arm and slipped away from me.
Then she laughed and ran.
For half a second, I stood there staring after her, genuinely surprised.
Then something primitive snapped awake inside me.
“Oh, you’ve made a terrible decision, Mouse.”
Her laughter floated back from the hall.
“Still green, Irishman!”
I went after her.
The sharp click of her heels echoed ahead of me until she hit the living room and apparently remembered she was trying to outrun a six-foot-four man while wearing shoes designed for dinner rather than escape.
She kicked one heel off.
It skidded across the floor.
“Jesus Christ, take the bloody shoes off before you break your ankle.”
“I’m trying.”
She hopped on one foot while clutching my belt in one hand and wrestling with the other shoe.
I slowed just enough to enjoy the ridiculous sight.
My beautiful new fiancée, dress hiked unevenly from where I’d had my hands beneath it, one bare foot on the floor, the other still trapped in a heel, stealing my belt and laughing like she’d lost her mind.
“You keep this up, Mouse, and a sore ass is going to be the least of your problems.”
She finally managed to free the second shoe and tossed it aside.
“Very green!”
Then she took off barefoot.
I laughed and followed.
“Keep running. Every second you make me chase you is going to cost that pretty ass.”
“You have to catch me first.”
“Careful what you wish for.”
I closed the distance near the guest-room wing and caught her arm.
She squealed and twisted free. I managed to snatch the belt from her hand, but she was already running for the guest rooms.
She darted into the room where most of the clothes and belongings Aria had arranged for her were still kept, then spun to face me from the far side of the bed.
I stepped inside and shut the door behind me.
Her grin faltered for a second.
“You know you’re trapped.”
“Maybe you’re trapped with me.”
“Cute.”
I started toward her.
She moved left.
So did I.
Her eyes flicked toward the bed.
“Don’t.”
That only made her smile.
I lunged.
She jumped onto the mattress before I reached her, scrambled across on hands and knees, rolled off the opposite side, and bolted for the door.
“Isabella.”
She was laughing too hard to answer.
Her fingers wrapped around the handle.
My palm hit the door above her shoulder before she could pull it open, slamming it shut again.
She froze, breathless and laughing, trapped between my body and the door.
I leaned in close behind her.
“Got you.”
I caught her around the waist and lifted her clear off the floor.
She laughed and kicked uselessly as I carried her back toward the bed. “You cheated.”
“I’m bigger than you. That’s not cheating.”
“It is when I’m unarmed.”
“You stole my belt.”
“Borrowed.”
I sat on the edge of the mattress, set the belt beside me, and hauled her across my lap. Her laughter broke into a startled gasp as her stomach landed across my thighs and her hands caught the bedding in front of her.
I pushed the skirt all the way up around her waist, exposing the black scrap of lace between her cheeks.
She wriggled over my thighs.
I hooked my fingers beneath the waistband of her thong and yanked it down her thighs in one hard pull, stripping it off before tossing it onto the bed beside my belt.
“Safe word?”
“Orange blossom.”
“Color?”
She glanced back at me over her shoulder, still breathless from the chase.
“Green.”
I picked up the belt, and her eyes followed it.
“Still feeling brave?”
“Still feeling smug?”
“Very.”
Her mouth twitched.
I planted my forearm across her lower back, pressing her securely over my thigh before bringing the belt down hard across the curve of her ass.
The crack filled the room.
Isabella sucked in a sharp breath and squirmed beneath my hold.
The first strike wiped the smile from her face.
I let the sting settle for a few seconds before running my palm over the red mark I’d left behind.
Then I struck the other cheek.
She gasped again, her fingers curling into the comforter.
“Jesus. That fucking hurt.”
“Aye.” I rubbed that one too, slow enough that she had time to register the contrast between the sharp bite of the belt and the warmth of my hand afterward.
“That’s generally how punishment works, Mouse. And I’m barely getting started.”
“For a man who won, you’re awfully cranky about it.”
I laughed under my breath. “Smart mouth.”
Another strike landed across both cheeks.
Her body jerked.
“Color?”
“Green.”
I waited.
She turned her head enough to glare back at me.
“I said green, Lachlan.”
There was my girl.
“All right, Mouse.”
This time I didn’t make her wait as long.
The belt cracked across her again, hard enough to leave another raised line. She cursed, wriggled, then pressed her thighs together as if she could hide the reaction from me.
Interesting.
I set the belt on her lower back and dragged my hand slowly over the heat I’d created.
Her ass was flushed now, pink deepening toward red where the leather had landed. I traced one mark with my fingertips and watched goosebumps rise along her skin.
“You’re enjoying this more than you expected.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No?”
My fingers slipped lower.
She went still.
I ran them between her cheeks and down to her pussy.
Christ.
She was soaking wet.
Not just a little slick from being turned on earlier, but wet enough that my fingertips slid easily through her folds.
A low laugh rumbled out of me.
“Well, well.”
I eased two fingers deep inside her and stroked until her hips started moving against my hand.
“I’ve barely spanked you, and your pussy’s dripping.”
She buried her face against the bed and groaned.
“Lachlan.”
“Aye?”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re wet.”
She gave me the finger without lifting her head.
I laughed.
This wasn’t her tolerating something because she thought I wanted it. Her body had already made that clear. The pain itself had surprised her, but somewhere between the sting and my hand soothing it afterward, something had clicked into place.
I wanted to see how far that went.
I set the belt aside, and Isabella glanced back.
“Done already?”
“With the belt.”
The uncertainty in her expression returned.
I widened my knees beneath her, creating enough space to slide my arm under her hips. My hand found her pussy from below.
Her breath caught.
“What are you—”
My palm cracked against her ass.
She yelped, and the movement drove her harder against the hand between her legs.
“Oh.”
Exactly.
I slipped one finger inside her.
She clenched around it instantly.
Then I added a second.
She was wet enough to take both without resistance, her pussy clenching while my other palm rested over the heat I’d left across her ass.
“Fuck, Mouse.”
I curled my fingers.
Her hips bucked.
“There?”
“Yes.”
I stroked the same spot again, then dragged my thumb over her clit.
Her breath broke and I smacked her ass.
She jerked hard against me.
“That hurts.”
“Aye.”
My fingers kept moving inside her.
Another slap.
“Stop trying to get away from the sting, Mouse. Feel it.” I worked my fingers deeper as my thumb circled her clit. “Your ass is burning, but look what it’s doing to this soaking pussy. Every time my hand comes down, you get wetter.”
She twisted her hips, trying to escape the next smack.
I held her firmly across my thighs. “Don’t fight one sensation while chasing the other. Let the pain feed the pleasure. Trust me and take both.”
Her fingers dug into the bedding.
I circled her clit while slowly pumping my fingers.
I slapped her again.
She gasped, but this time she didn’t try to pull away.
“That’s it. Feel the burn, then feel my fingers inside you. Let them work together until you can’t tell which one is pushing you higher.”
My fingers curled inside her.
“Let it turn hot.”
Another smack landed.
Her body rocked forward with it, then back against my hand.
There.
She was beginning to understand.
The pain was still pain, sharp enough that her ass would remind her tomorrow exactly what she’d earned tonight. But instead of fighting the sting, her body was starting to use it, the pleasure building faster every time my hand came down.
I spanked her again.
Her gasp melted into a moan.
My thumb found her clit at the same moment my fingers drove deeper.
She rocked herself against my hand.
“That’s my girl.”
The next slap brought another moan.
Not startled now—needy.
Her hips started moving with the rhythm I gave her, seeking my fingers instead of trying to escape the impact.
I alternated them deliberately—my palm landing hard, my fingers moving inside her, my thumb circling her clit until she couldn’t decide which sensation to chase.
“Oh God.”
I smacked her again.
Her thighs trembled.
“Not God.”
My fingers curled.
“Me.”
“Cocky bastard.”
Another slap.
She cried out, but her pussy clamped down around my fingers.