Brazen and Breathless (Untouchable #6) - Heather Long Page 0,29

let go of my hair, and I kept my hands on the wall where he’d put them. Even half-expecting it, the slap to my ass still took me up to my toes. It didn’t hurt. Not really.

If anything, it sent a tremor through my system and amped up my need. It would only have been better if the denim and my panties weren’t in my way.

Another smack, and I was clenching on emptiness as a soft, longer groan fell past my lips.

“Still want to be bad, Angel?” Amusement and something far headier darkened his tone, and I sighed at having gotten that response.

“Not feeling at all deterred,” I managed to form those words, but I barely got them out before he delivered a series of stinging swats that had my ass burning and my clit grinding against the seam of my pants. I swore I saw stars with every well-timed strike.

I was a trembling mess when he pulled me back against him. “Head against my shoulder, Angel.” Then he had my jeans open and his fingers curling inside to cup my pussy. He dipped two fingers in for me to clench on and then ground the heel of his hand against my already, aching and swollen clit.

It took almost nothing before I splintered. I was a shaking, shuddering mess by the time he lifted his damp fingers to his lips to clean them one at a time. He studied me with heavy-lidded eyes, and I smiled up at him.

“I’ll be good now,” I promised. “If you want.”

He chuckled. “You’re a brat.”

“Sometimes,” I agreed. Who knew it could be so much damn fun?

Cupping my neck, he let me turn and then kissed me with a kind of savage possession that threatened to turn me into a wild and needy mess all over again. With a groan, he pulled away and then pointed me to my guitar.

“We’re working and then we’re recording. After that, I’m going to tie you to that bench and fuck you until neither of us can walk. Understood?”

My breath left me in a whoosh. “Promise?”

“Yes, Angel,” he told me, his eyes all heat. “I promise. But music first.”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered, and I swore his eyes flashed and I grinned wider. I could be good.

’Cause then I got to be bad.

Win. Win.

Even if I had to sing for my pleasure.

An hour later, I had the guitar braced against my knee as Ian wrote out musical notes on sheet music. There was just something magical about watching him sketch out the notes at speed like I would a sentence or Archie would a diagram. It made me want to crawl inside and see the music through his eyes.

I couldn’t read music, not really. He’d been teaching me, but I could probably write the names of the notes out in French and process it easier. As it was, he kept me to simple chords. He played most of it, and then I strummed a light accompaniment.

I’d already earned five swats when I told him he’d be better off just doing all the music himself. My body tingled in anticipation, and he’d given me a wink as he walked me through the chords again. I could do it though, I could play the two-chord exchange like a champ.

The fact that he also had one of the picks with my face on it just made me smile. He stared at the page a minute, then put the pen between his teeth before he strummed out the opening lines and I followed along, counting the measures before I added my two-chords. He shot me another grin around the pen before he pushed on.

Four more refrains, and then he paused to write out more notes. “Okay, I think I have it. We’re going to drop a key here, go low when we sing, and then I want you to climb up a half-octave for each line that follows.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “Walk me through each half-octave so I’m doing it exactly how you want me to.” His swift smile flushed me with pleasure. I didn’t argue about being the one to sing anymore. I just didn’t know how good this was going to sound. I really didn’t want to be the reason he didn’t get this contract. He was too good to be held back.

Of course, I wasn’t going to say that aloud again. The look on his face the last time had less to do with the shiver inducing spankings that led to orgasm