Dance With Me - By Hayden Braeburn Page 0,7
He devoured her, sliding one hand into her hair to cup her head.
“There's no denying what you want,” she murmured as she stroked him though his pants. “Be a rebel and take me here,” she whispered before gently nipping at his ear.
Accepting her challenge, he backed her up to the counter, effortlessly lifting her to set her on top as he slid up her dress. She jumped a little when she landed on the cool granite, causing a chuckle to rumble from his chest. “I'll warm you up, babe,” he promised before tearing the lacy thong from her body. “God, I love your underwear,” he said roughly as he pushed two fingers into her.
Taking her mouth with a drugging kiss, he tunneled in and out, curling his fingers to caress her with every pass as his thumb toyed with her. It wasn't long before her back arched and her muscles fluttered around him signaling her impending orgasm. A wicked grin on his chiseled face, he dropped to a crouch, adding his mouth to his fingers. He loved the taste of her on his tongue as it danced over her and the clamp of her knees around his head as her body tensed. When he sucked her into his mouth, she shattered, her cries bouncing off the stone, wood, and steel surfaces of the room.
He gathered her limp body to his chest. “It may not make me a very good rebel, but I want you in my bed.” He carried her to his bedroom, placing her gently on a silk comforter the color of the stormy sea. He watched as she shimmied out of her dress and bra, leaving her naked but for those sexy silver shoes and his diamond ring. “Leave them,” he commanded when she bent to unbuckle her stiletto.
He always loved looking at her, but she was exceptionally gorgeous tonight in the middle of his bed, her mouth swollen from his kisses, her skin flushed from her climax, her hair tousled by his fingers. She was perfect, she was his, and he couldn't let her doubt him. No matter what happened with her mother, Cassidy, Priscilla, or anyone else on the planet, he was never letting her go.
Panting, she turned sultry blue eyes to him. “I'm naked in your bed. Now what are you going to do with me?”
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, one side of his mouth tugged up into a half-smile. He shrugged out of his jacket before loosening his tie. “Do you want my hands on you? My mouth on you?” He took a step back to drape his jacket and tie over the chair in the corner, then slowly unbuttoned his shirt. “Do you want me to take you, slow and easy, or hold you down and ravish you?” He pulled his shirt from his pants, adding it to the pile as he opened his belt, leaving it hanging there. “I could bind your hands with my belt and have you at my mercy,” he pulled the belt from the loops, folding it over in his hands, “or I could spank you with it,” he finished, his dark eyes gleaming.
She jerked. “What? Why?”
He stepped toward her. “For doubting me. For doubting us. For thinking you're not good enough.” He turned, tossing the belt into the chair with his discarded clothing. “But I won't.”
She was sopping wet from his mouth, from her climax, from his words. Something about him spanking her was wickedly sexy. “Maybe I deserve it,” she conceded.
“Maybe you do,” he agreed. He'd never entertained the thought of spanking a woman, and as enticing as the thought was, he didn't want to start with a belt. “Maybe I have a better way of punishing you,” he said before toeing off his shoes and stepping out of his pants.
She eyed the glorious erection captured beneath tight cotton boxer briefs. “Do your worst,” she challenged, a sly smile on her lips.
He watched her for a moment, weighing his options. When he had threatened punishment, he hadn't had anything planned, but now he needed to make good on his promise. Not that he minded the pause. She was spectacular, laid out naked on his bed as she was, but he didn't love her solely for her beauty—there was so much more to her than just her stunning face and tempting body. Still, he couldn't let her get away with doubting him. She had expected him to be ashamed of her, and thought