Page 73 of Roped

I shake my head. “I don’t think—”

Another smack, followed by his scraped palm rubbing the burn away. I swear I feel myself dripping on his hand, on the floor even. I feel my juices flying everywhere like drops of rain, wetting my thighs, my dress, his jeans.

“Tell me, Princess.”

“If you k-keep doing that—”

One more smack and it hurts so good that I’m ready to come. I’m not even embarrassed by the sounds my pussy is making as he smacks it and rubs it, the wet, sloppy, steamy noises.

But he says, “Tell me or I’ll stop.”

At this, I blink my eyes open and focus. I focus. Licking my lips, I whisper, “Can’t you… can’t you make me come before and then… then I tell you?”

This time his chuckle is loud enough that I know that’s what it is. He rubs me again, slathering his fingers with my juices before giving me a light tap. “This is what I get for puttin’ my ring on a pretty young thing as slutty as you.”

I moan. “If you keep s-saying things like that, I’m going to come anyway.”

He chuckles again and shame both burns my cheeks and pushes me even closer to the edge.

Still, I keep going, “It’s just h-hard to talk right now.”

“Yeah?”

“So can we—”

He slaps my pussy again. “Bet it is.”

“Radisson,” I whimper.

“But not as hard as watchin’ you run away from me and then fuckin’ smilin’ at another man.”

I freeze, my heart twisting in my chest. I knew he’d hate that. I knew it. I hated it as much as he did. And it’s plain to see on his harsh face. His eyes are angry, but there’s also something else in their depths that tugs at my squeezing heart. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“And this time it wasn’t your daddy who pushed you into doin’ it.”

“No, it’s not like that. It’s—”

“So,” he goes on, his jaw pulsing, “you’ll take what you’re given and you’ll quit your whinin’. You’ll sit in my fuckin’ lap like you belong there, pretend to be my runaway wife I came here to drag back home where I can keep her safe, and you’ll talk. While I play with that slutty cunt of yours, tryna distract myself from killin’ the motherfucker who shouldn’t have laid his eyes on you let alone heard your angel voice and seen your sweet smile. Do you understand? You’ll sit here and keep your legs open while I lay my claim on you, while I show every asshole in this town that I’m the only man my wife comes alive for. Is that fuckin’ clear, Princess?”

He’s right. I should take it. I should take everything I’m given because he is the man, the only man in this whole wide world, that I come alive for. My voice, my smiles, me, all of it belongs to him.

So I lick my lips again and keep my eyes on him as my heart thrashes in my chest. “Can you… Whatever you do”—I swallow—“to me, will you promise not to—”

He smacks my core again, making me jerk as his jaw clenches and something feral flashes through his eyes. “I remember your rules, darlin’. And unlike you, I do know how to follow them. So yeah, I fuckin’ promise not to steal your cherry with my finger before I put my mouth on you.”

I flinch at his biting tone and realize how idiotic my demand is. It’s not as if I’m not letting him do everything else to me. He’s touching me in ways no one ever has and I know no one else ever will. But boundaries are important. They’re the only way I’ll be able to cope being near him.

In any case, I clench my eyes shut for a second before focusing on giving him what he wants. “I just think it’s better if I stay with my… my brother.”

He stays silent, his eyes watching and intense.

Squirming, I explain, “It’s just… As I said in the truck, there’s no reason for us to stay together, and my brother can—”

“Makes sense.”

That gives me pause. “It does?”

“Yeah.”