of his fingers. It fell to the floor as he filled his palm with one breast, kneading it gently. My nipples were tingling and tight, and I cried out when he pinched one. “See?”
I wanted to nod, but he was pulling my hair so hard I couldn’t even move my head. The pain was enough to bring tears to my eyes, but then his other hand was under my skirt again, his fingers pushing aside the damp silk of my panties.
With some kind of cop move that made me gasp, he kicked my heels apart so my feet were planted wide. “That’s it. Spread your legs for me like a bad girl should.”
Then his fingers were sliding in and out of me again, and I whimpered as he rubbed slick, hot circles over my clit. My brain was torn between focusing on the pleasure between my legs, the pain on my scalp, and the frustration of being completely at his mercy. I’d never experienced anything like this before, never been treated like a bad girl, a prisoner, a plaything.
Panic hovered at the edges of my mind, but my body responded to his touch, and I moved against his fingers. “Yes. Do it,” he told me. “Come. Right here. Right now. All over my hand.”
My legs began to tingle. My core muscles tightened. Harder and faster, his fingers working me into a tight, hot frenzy until the tension coiled inside me sprung and unspooled in wave after wave of pleasure.
“God, I fucking love your body,” he growled in my ear, finally loosening his grasp on my hair. “I love the way you move. I love the way you taste. I love the way you do exactly what I tell you to.”
I could barely breathe. My legs were ready to give out. My cheek was pushed so hard against the wall I thought I might have a bruise tomorrow.
But I didn’t care.
“Was that my punishment?” I panted.
He laughed, a low, gravelly sound from the back of his throat. “That was just the beginning.”
Immediately I was pulled off the wall, spun around, and bent forward over the kitchen counter. I still couldn’t see a goddamn thing. Why the hell was it so dark in here? I felt like my eyes were closed when they were open.
Noah pressed my head down so my cheek rested on the stone counter. Then he placed a hand on my back. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“If you want me to stop, what will you say?”
“Can’t I just ask you to stop?”
“No, because that turns me on.”
My stomach jumped. “Even if I say please?”
“Especially if you say please.”
A shiver moved up my spine.
“Are you nervous?”
I hesitated. “A little.”
“Good.” He hiked my skirt up to my hips, grabbed my panties, and fucking tore them off. “If you want me to stop, say cinnamon.”
“Okay,” I whispered, imagining the scrap of shredded lace now lying on his kitchen floor.
“Now,” he said. “Are you sorry for what you did last night?”
“No. Ouch!” I cried as his hand spanked my ass so hard I saw stars.
“Try again, Sawyer. Are you sorry?”
I gritted my teeth. “No.”
He delivered a second smack, then held his hand over my hot, stinging flesh. “And now?”
“No.”
That earned me a third spanking. And then a fourth, on the opposite cheek. My eyes filled with tears, but whatever hormones or endorphins were coursing through my body made the pain indistinguishable from the pleasure. I felt like someone else, someone who did bad things and liked it. And he felt like someone else too—a sinister, sexy stranger. A man I didn’t know if I could trust, whose mind went places I’d never imagined, whose voice sounded like one I’d never heard, and whose body could deliver torment or gratification at his whim.
I fucking loved it.
“What were you hoping to see last night, huh?” he whispered. “When you snuck in here, quiet as a mouse.”
“You,” I managed. “I wanted to see you.”
He leaned over me, pressing his body close to mine. He still wore his clothes—as far as I knew—but I could feel his cock pushing against my ass. “Liar.”
It was a lie. I smiled in the dark, my breath hot and heavy and fast.
“I saw you staring at my cock,” he said. “You wanted me to fuck you. Admit it.”
“I wanted you to fuck me.”
His weight lifted from my back, and I could breathe slightly easier. A second later I heard a belt being unbuckled. A zipper descending. “You are such a bad girl.” The