His text had said he’d whip it raw. At the thought, I tensed even more in his iron embrace.
“And don’t I always do what I say I will?”
Chapter 42
Sevastyan kept me trapped in his arms as he climbed the steps to our suite. He only let me go to slam the doors behind us.
As his threat replayed in my mind, I wondered if I should make a dash for the safe room. Yet even now I couldn’t manage to be afraid of this man.
“Never run from me again!” He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. “The thought of not having you . . .” He punched the wall near the hole from his last show of fury. As his fist made impact, he loosed a short, violent yell. Like an animal in pain.
“Sevastyan, just wait.”
Flexing his hand, he twisted around to face me. “Strip.”
“No, I don’t want to.”
“STRIP!”
I snapped, “Sure thing!” and stepped out of my shoes, scooping them up. “Here we go!” I flung the first one overhand like a dagger. Missed. He batted away the second.
“Why don’t you arm yourself with your shirt next, sweet?”
“Fuck—you!”
“Fuck me?” Though his pupils were still blown, his sexy lips curled. “We’re getting to that.” Underneath all this pain and frenzy, Sevastyan was still Sevastyan.
Seductive. Undeniable.
He prowled closer, running the heel of his palm over the straining bulge in his pants. I’d been conditioned by him; seeing this man’s erection would always make me grow wet to receive it. When he was just before me, his body heat and addictive scent wreaked havoc on my senses.
“You won’t remove your clothes when I command it? I think you don’t want me to discover what you’re hiding.”
Hiding?
He seized my hip with one hand. His other hand was climbing under my skirt. “Will I find you wet? If so, you’re going to get whipped. If not, I won’t touch you.”
Not fair—I couldn’t control my response! I squeezed my thighs together, but he forced them apart.
When he felt my damp panties, he grunted with satisfaction. “I think you want your punishment very much.”
Was I already so lust-stupid that I . . . did ? He rubbed me with his slow, hot fingers, sending my thoughts into chaos.
Maybe I should use him for the pleasure he always gave, then figure out what to do afterward. So what if he was going to spank me? It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before—with a flogger. I could get through this.
Or maybe I was making excuses for him—yet again! I shoved at his wrist and twisted away from him.
He let me get a step away before his hands landed on my shoulders to jerk me back. He leaned down, his mouth descending on mine.
My cry was his access.
His tongue flicked . . . deliberate, sensual. Leveling my resistance. Even as he tore my blouse from me like it was tissue paper, he was giving me his mind-numbing, toe-curling lover’s kiss—as if he couldn’t help himself.
As if his mind was saying Discipline her, while his heart was saying Kiss her.
Though my mind screamed Resist him, my heart told me . . . Surrender.
With a defeated moan, I kissed him back, twining my tongue with his. He was caught up, and now I was too. I might hate myself afterward, but I couldn’t stop this.