Grievous (Wanted Men #5) - Nancy Haviland Page 0,40

one little shimmy to snug up to his abs. He was hard, she realized with some relief when she felt his long cock press into her hip. Just like that, knowing they were sharing the excitement, she was all in.

“In this position, your ass is shaped like a heart.” His hand came down, and the sound of it connecting with her skin cracked through the room. And stung like a bitch.

Shock stole her breath but she had no time to process before he delivered more with his goddamn huge hand. Three on each cheek.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.”

She waited for more, feeling in no way demeaned. The act merely cemented Lucian’s authority over her, which was something she’d already known was there. But in a good way. From the moment they’d met, his dominance over everything around him had drawn her like a fragile moth to a crackling blaze.

One more landed and she jumped. Flames cooked her ass and she ground her teeth together, forcing herself not to pull away from the scorch because she instinctively knew that wouldn’t go over well. By the time he sent his hand between her legs and speared deep into her welcoming pussy with two fingers, she got why she’d always been curious. Deep down, she’d somehow known she’d respond to this form of play.

“No resistance at all because you’re soaking wet, my pet,” he murmured, unnecessarily stating the obvious. “It appears this was not the punishment it was meant to be.”

She shook her head and moaned as he slowly and deliberately thrust a few times, delivering brief strikes of pleasure that mingled and confused the pain. It was a shock when he pulled out and landed two more swats before taking her arm and helping her to stand on shaky legs. Nine. He’d given her nine spanks on her bare ass for making him repeat himself.

“Or maybe it will work in a different way. Now that you are aroused, you will sit here with your pink ass and dripping pussy, and we will do nothing more than eat our breakfast. That might not be so pleasant for you, hmm?” He pulled his chair up and took her by the hips to lower her back into hers.

He made her vision quiver when he licked his glistening fingers. He shook his head and said something in his own language as he wiped them dry on a napkin. As if nothing unusual had gone down, he lifted the fork again.

“Deschide, draga.”

Her mind crowded with images of him laying her on the table and eating her for breakfast. Of her falling to her knees and eating him. Of being thrown against the wall so he could fuck the pussy he’d just primed for sex it wouldn’t be having.

She forced her hammering heart to slow and tried to show him how accustomed she was to being spanked before she had her morning coffee. “You never told me what that means.” She sat forward so her ass wasn’t pressing so hard into the seat.

“It means use your jaw muscles to part your lips,” he said with no expression. “I know you are hungry, and I wish to feed you.”

She bit her lip so she wouldn’t smile because she was pretty sure that wasn’t allowed at his table. “I meant the other word. You keep calling me that. Does it mean whore?”

She watched his pupils expand and a hardness come over his face. “No. Too late, yesterday, I realized I should have chosen a less derogatory term. I will never refer to you in such a way again. Not in any language. My apologies. Now open.”

“But isn’t that the role you want me to play?” She knew she was goading him, but she couldn’t help it. He was starting their day out playing the pompous ass—while spanking hers—and she didn’t like it. His attitude, not the spanking. When he acted like this, she had a hard time remembering why she was so eager to help him.

“If I wanted you as my whore, you would already be set up in a condo overlooking Central Park. When in town, I would drop by twice a week, fill your body with come, and leave a pair of earrings on the nightstand. Sorin would never have spoken to you, my staff would never have seen you, and you sure as hell would not have been welcome at Markus’s service. If you were my whore, you would know your place