Sweet Temptation - Maya Banks Page 0,87

should have locked yourself in another room for three days and withheld sex if you really wanted to punish me.”

Her shoulders shook. She dragged a hand through her long, unruly hair and looked at him with a grimace. “So you’re saying I overreacted.”

He shrugged. “We were both upset. I’m just saying you should have stood your ground. You’ve never had that problem before.”

“I’ve never cared about someone this much before.”

His chest tightened, his throat closed off, and he gripped the steering wheel all the more tightly.

“Don’t care about me, Angel,” he said hoarsely. “Save your love for someone else.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” she said calmly.

Micah shook his head as if he could shake off her words. He didn’t want this. Didn’t want to become emotionally involved, and he didn’t want to hurt her. He’d been honest with her. Brutally so. Sex was all he could offer her. Sex and his domination. How the hell was that a substitute for love? He’d had love once, and he damn well knew sex was a piss-poor substitute.

He was still inwardly seething when they pulled up to The House. Angelina started to open her door, but he stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

“Don’t get any ideas of running and hiding from me now, Angel girl. It’s time to pay the piper.”

CHAPTER 33

Angelina stared at him with a mixture of nervousness and heightened awareness. Arousal flooded her veins at the authority in his voice, and yet she felt compelled to argue.

“This was all your fault, Hudson. Not mine. If anyone needs punishing, it’s you.”

He had no liking for the reminder of him being underneath her whip. His eyes narrowed dangerously and he rubbed a thumb sensuously over the pulse at her wrist.

“Who said anything about punishment?” he said silkily. “Maybe I enjoy watching you writhe under the heat of a whip, how you flinch away and then beg for more with your next breath.”

She swallowed as heat rose from her belly to her throat. There was no denying his effect on her. Already she felt the touch of leather on her skin. The pain and exquisite pleasure all rolled into one.

“Hell, if I wanted to punish you, I’d lock you in your room and withhold sex from you. Something tells me I might survive it longer than you,” he said in amusement.

She yanked her wrist from his grasp and glared at him. He met her gaze and then said in a low voice, “Inside, Angel girl. It’s time to take what’s mine.”

On shaking legs, she walked into The House ahead of Micah. How quickly she’d gone from upset to anger and now to aching arousal. He brought out the best and worst in her, but then she’d always known loving him wouldn’t be easy.

She chanced a look over her shoulder as they entered, and the answering arousal she saw in his eyes sent a shiver straight up her spine. He wouldn’t be easy tonight, and maybe a part of her longed for him to give her every ounce of his passion, his need. She wanted him to take her to her very limits. It both frightened and excited her.

“Upstairs,” he directed.

The walk seemed endless, each step more difficult than the last. For all her dread, anticipation licked over her skin like fire over dry wood.

His hand closed around her arm when they stood at the top of the stairs, and he turned her in the direction of the common room. It was dark when they entered, and he flipped the lights, flooding the room.

It looked different without people having sex. It looked almost normal except for the miscellaneous pieces of furniture positioned around the room. A spanking stool. Would he use it? No, what he intended went beyond a simple spanking she was sure.

Sure enough he motioned her toward the beam where he’d flogged her that first night. She stood silently under it, waiting his command.

His gaze slid over her, his eyes gleaming with approval.

“Take off your clothes, Angel. Slowly. Pants first. Then your shirt. Leave your underwear on for now.”

She fumbled with the snap of her jeans. Despite her attempt to be graceful and seductive, she knew she appeared clumsy. Remembering his dictate, she peeled the denim slowly down her hips. Picking up one leg, she pulled her foot out, and then she did the other. She felt surprisingly vulnerable and she had yet to take off her shirt.

There wasn’t much to her underwear. Sheer lace, soft and silky, with thin strings over

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