Page 11 of Tempt
Would he be just as good during the actual deed? I remembered the heft and length of his cock in my hand and my excitement ratcheted up another notch.
“Zach,” I murmured impatiently, reaching between his legs again. “I want you.”
“Soon.” He lifted his head and spun me around so his erection pressed into my lower back. “But I have to teach you a lesson first,” he growled in my ear. “Get on the bed. Hands and knees.”
I did what he said, my limbs trembling.
“Just like a good girl.” He climbed up on the mattress and knelt behind me. “Now grab on to the headboard.”
I moved up farther and placed my palms on the tufted brown leather. My breath was shallow and quick, my chest restricted by the bustier. Fear and anticipation coursed through me. Would he give me any warning? Would it hurt? Those hands could probably do a lot of damage.
It was one thing to hand your body over to a stranger for pleasure. It was quite another to hand it over for pain.
But for some reason, I trusted him.
“So fucking beautiful,” he said.
I felt his palms on my butt, rubbing firm, slow circles in opposite directions. More like a massage than anything. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe he—
Smack!
His hand striking my ass set my skin on fire, making me cry out. Immediately he pressed his hand over the sting. “Shhh. Did that hurt?”
“Yes,” I whispered through clenched teeth.
“Good.” He did it again, cracking his palm across the opposite cheek, then covering them both, rubbing gently. “That’s the only way you’ll learn.”
My eyes were watering, and I imagined my ass was bright red. But my heart was racing, and my nipples were hard—maybe it was just a game, but the idea that he was teaching me a lesson for being too tempting for him to resist made my entire body radiate with desire.
“I’ve learned,” I panted. “I promise. I’m a good girl now. I just want you to fuck me.”
He pressed close behind me, and I moaned when I felt his cock trapped between us. I pushed back against it, hoping he wouldn’t be able to resist. Instead, he braced one arm on the headboard above mine and reached around my waist with the other hand, dipping his fingers inside me, then rubbing them over my clit. He moaned in my ear, deep and gruff. “Would a good girl get so wet from being spanked? Would a good girl like being punished this way? Would a good girl ask to get fucked?”
I whimpered as he tortured me with his fingers. I didn’t know what answers to give to make him want me as badly as I wanted him. I’d never felt so helpless and impatient and frustrated—didn’t the guy always want to come as quickly as possible? Was Zach superhuman?
“Tell me what to do,” I begged as I neared a second climax. “What will make you say yes?”
“Come for me. Just like this.” He plunged his fingers deeper, using the heel of his hand against my clit, and I shamelessly rocked my hips, spiraling higher. In seconds the world turned silver, and my lower body tightened up, every muscle tingling. I cried out as the orgasm tore through me, my body clenching his hand, his teeth sinking into my shoulder, spiking the pleasure with a delicious little sting.
Breathing hard, he took his fingers from me. “I need to see you—all of you,” he said, undoing the bustier’s hooks at my lower back. It fell open, and I could breathe easier. My chest heaved.
His hands closed over my breasts, lifting and shaping them, teasing their stiff peaks with his fingertips. He put his mouth on one shoulder and moved it up the curve of my neck. Taking my hands from the headboard, I wrapped them around his head, threading my fingers in his hair. Breathing deeply, I told myself to stop racing for the finish—we would get there. No one had ever worshiped my body this way, and I should savor every single, delicious second.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he told me. And maybe it wasn’t true, maybe it was just a line, maybe he’d said it to twenty other women before me, but I didn’t care. Because he made itfeeltrue. All the insecurities that might have taken the shine off this night were nonexistent.
He touched me reverently and patiently, but hungrily and greedily too—like he was worried there was some place on my body, some inch of my skin he might miss. He kissed me deeply, and I could taste the whiskey on his tongue. He spoke low in my ear, his fingers inside me, telling me how hard his cock was as he rubbed it against my ass, how much he loved that I was so wet for him, how deep and hard he was going to fuck me, how many times he wanted to make me come tonight.
I was trembling, aching with need by the time he tipped me onto my back and stretched out above me. Anticipation built with every sensation. The weight of his thick, muscular chest. The thrust of his tongue in my mouth. The slick heat of our skin. The sound of our ragged breathing. The motion of his hips as he rocked between my thighs, his cock sliding against my clit, the friction enough to have me clawing his back.
I nearly wept with relief when he knelt between my legs, rolling on the condom. I held my breath as he eased inside me with a few slow, shallow thrusts, glad he was a gentleman again, at least for a moment. I’d never been with anyone so big, and my body needed time to adjust.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded, clutching his shoulders.
“Breathe,” he told me.
I laughed, inhaling and exhaling a couple times. “You’re just a lot bigger than anyone I’ve ever been with.”
