Читать книгу The Dare Collection January 2019 - J.C. Harroway - Страница 20

SHE STIFFENED AND I thought I’d made a mistake and read her wrong, that she didn’t want this after all. And I was all prepared to let her go, let her walk away from me the way I should have done the first time and hadn’t.

But then she gave a little sniff and turned towards my apartment. And when I released her, she walked right inside.

Instantly I was hard, desperate.

I should never have opened the door to her. Should never have let the concierge usher her upstairs to me.

I should have ignored her text and continued with my search for her father’s money, the way I’d been doing all evening.

I’d had to bring work home because doing it at the office while she was around had been damn near impossible. Even having her in a separate room was no good—I couldn’t concentrate, knowing she was right outside my office door, with her perfect, curvy little body and those molten copper eyes.

I’d hoped that telling Leon what had happened with her father would rid me of this need for her, and that he’d agree with me that she had to be kept at a distance.

But he’d told me I was being ridiculous. That I couldn’t blame myself for a choice a man had made for himself.

Yes, an action that I’d taken had resulted in her father’s death, but I hadn’t known that. I’d been fifteen. I hadn’t known that the financial game my father had been playing with me had been real, not until I was twenty, and it was a guilt I’d been carrying around for a good ten years.

I’d decided not to tell Leon what I wanted to do with that man’s daughter. How wrong it was. And how much she’d eventually hate me once she knew. Not that she didn’t hate me already for the way I’d treated her.

But then, I simply hadn’t been able to deal with her any other way and hate was easier to handle.

People were difficult, complicated. I’d always felt more comfortable with numbers, with money. They didn’t require an emotional response from me or demand that I do things for them.

Or take care of them.

I couldn’t take care of anyone, not people. That much I did know. I couldn’t and I didn’t want to.

But...taking care of Poppy right now, in my apartment, well...maybe that I could do. Sex—even the kind of sex that I wanted—was simple at least.

And, apart from anything else, I’d known ignoring her would hurt her and it had. But I’d never thought it would hurt her that much. It made me feel like shit. Made me feel like I had to make it up to her somehow.

She was standing just inside the door, facing me, her eyes wide, heat glinting in the depths. There was anger, yes, and something more.

I shut the door behind me then stepped in front of her, deliberately looming over her, trying to intimidate her.

The heat in her eyes flared hotter.

She liked this. She liked it when I took charge.

And shit, so did I.

‘You know what you’re doing, bad girl?’ I took another step, even closer. ‘That by coming inside you’re saying you want more of what we did in my office?’

She lifted her chin, obviously determined not to retreat. ‘I thought I wouldn’t, not after the way you treated me. But... I changed my mind.’ Her delicious, biteable mouth had firmed, her gaze roaming over me as if she couldn’t decide what part of me she wanted to touch first. ‘Yes. I want it.’

‘It’ll just be for one night. That’s all I can do.’

‘One night is all I want.’

‘Ah, but you don’t even know what that means yet, not really.’ I came even closer, inches away, making her aware of how much taller I was, how much broader. How much more powerful. ‘Not when you have no idea of the things I want to do to you.’

Her breath caught. I heard it. The pulse at the base of her throat was fluttering, and for the briefest moment I wanted to brush my mouth over it. Just lightly. I wanted to taste her excitement and her desire.

For me.

Something possessive and dark turned over in my gut. ‘You want to do this with any other man? Or is it just me?’

‘J-Just you,’ she said thickly, holding my gaze. ‘I didn’t... I don’t trust anyone else enough.’

The possessive feeling roared up inside me even as I felt my stomach drop away.

She trusted me? Why the fuck would she do that? When I’d done nothing but be cold and distant towards her for years?

Still, I was the only one. She hadn’t wanted this with any other man.

And she never will again. It will always be you. Only and ever you.

It sounded like a vow in my head and I couldn’t figure out where it had come from. I didn’t want to be the only one for her. There wasn’t going to be anything permanent about this or even long-term. One night—that was all I could do.

Ruin her for other men...

Yes, that appealed to me. That appealed to me very much indeed.

‘It’s good that you trust me,’ I murmured, taking another step, and this time she took a tiny step back. ‘It’s good because tonight you’re mine.’ I lifted one hand and slid my fingers into the cloud of her soft black hair then curled them into a fist, tugging her head back. ‘Tonight, I’m your master.’

As I’d hoped, the word made the heat in her eyes flare.

‘Do you understand?’ I went on softly. ‘Do you know what I mean by that?’

‘Yes. I do whatever you say, right?’

‘That’s right.’ Lowering my head, I looked down into those beautiful, fascinating eyes. ‘Tonight you’ll be my little fuck toy and I’ll do whatever I want with you. Tell me you understand.’

Her breathing had become uneven, the flush in her cheeks deepening.

Jesus, she was so unbelievably beautiful she made my heart ache.

‘I...understand.’

Satisfaction curled through me and, along with it, a kind of wonder that she’d agreed to this. That she was going to give herself to me. I’d never asked for this from any woman before—never thought I’d want it. But I did. I wanted it so badly I ached.

To have someone who was mine. Mine completely...

‘Good. But you need a way to let me know if what I’m doing isn’t okay for you.’

‘I won’t need—’

‘You will. Because telling me no won’t be enough.’ I’d never had to think about this before because I’d never wanted to do the things I wanted to do to Poppy to anyone else before. But I did now. And she had to know that I took what she’d given me very seriously. That I respected it. That I would never do anything she didn’t want.

‘Okay. So what do I say instead?’

I thought for a moment. ‘Say seven. Repeat it to me.’

‘S-Seven,’ she whispered, breathing fast.

I loved that hitch in her voice, the husky, breathless timbre of it. As if just talking about all of this was getting her off.

‘That’s it.’ I tightened my fist in her hair, pulling her head back even further, exposing her lovely throat. ‘But you still came here when you shouldn’t and you know what that means, don’t you?’

She stared right up at me, her eyes darkening. ‘Wh-What does it mean?’

‘That I’ll have to punish you.’

Her mouth opened, a quiver going through her. ‘I...want that.’

‘What you want doesn’t matter.’ I lifted my other hand, let my fingers trail along her throat, feeling her soft silky skin. ‘Only what I want. You’re my fuck toy, remember? Say it.’

‘I... I’m your f-fuck toy.’

She was so responsive. So obedient. My cock was hard already, the blood pumping in my veins.

Mine. She was mine.

The sense of possessiveness I’d felt earlier stretched out inside me, relaxing me. I was hard yet there was no feeling of urgency. It was a strong feeling, powerful. I’d never experienced it before. Yes, I liked to take charge in the bedroom, but this was different. This was someone willingly giving up control of their body—to me.

There was a gift in that. And a sacrifice.

Jesus, she had courage. It was humbling.

I would make sure she never regretted it.

I let go of her hair and took her hand, leading her down the short hallway from the front door and out into the lounge.

The windows that gave the magnificent view of the Opera House were right in front of us, the slatted shutters that allowed me to shield my apartment from the sun or from the lights outside at night were open.

Neon and starlight filled the room, dark bars of shadow crossing the pale wooden floor.

Right in front of me was a sectional sofa covered in pale linen and I pulled Poppy over to it. Then I sat and tugged her down with me, arranging her so that her rounded ass was over my knees.

‘What’s—?’ she began.

I put my hand on the back of her neck, pressing down lightly. ‘Keep still. I told you I was going to punish you.’

Her breathing was loud in the sudden silence of the room. ‘How?’

I didn’t answer. I wanted her to keep guessing, keep wondering. ‘You’ll find out. Remember your word?’

‘Yes.’

Keeping one hand on her neck, I slid the other underneath her and found the button of her jeans. I flicked it open and pulled down the zip. Then I grabbed the waistband at the small of her back and jerked the denim down, taking her knickers with it, uncovering the golden-bronze skin of her bare butt.

She shuddered and made a soft sound, muffled by the linen of the sofa cushions, but it wasn’t her word so I didn’t stop.

My heart was beating hard in my chest, my cock aching, and yet I’d never felt so in control or so completely calm.

Yes, she was mine. And I was going to punish her. For coming here when she shouldn’t. For demanding what she shouldn’t want. For tempting me. For making me want her so fucking badly.

I trailed my fingertips over her ass then opened my palm, gathering her soft flesh into it and squeezing gently. She shivered. Her flesh was warm and when I squeezed I could feel her muscles tense. Soft. So fucking soft. I wanted to take a bite out of her. Maybe I would. Later.

Right now there was something else I wanted to do.

I lifted my hand and then brought it down on one butt cheek.

Hard.

She gasped aloud, her whole body jerking.

I rubbed my thumb gently against the side of her neck, while with the other hand I stroked the butt cheek I’d just spanked. ‘Do you know why I’m doing this?’

‘Because... I’m bad.’ She was shaking in my lap, her whole body tense. And yet I didn’t think it was from the pain.

‘That’s right.’ I lifted my hand again. ‘I’m going to give you five strokes and you’ll count each one. If you want me to stop, you know what to say.’

Before I brought my hand down I waited a second, listening for her word. But she didn’t say it so I let my palm fall, the sound against her soft flesh making a cracking sound in the room. She gasped again, jerking, but her voice, though breathless, was steady.

‘One.’

I did it again and again, making her count the strokes, her skin getting hot beneath my palm, the sight of it reddening making my cock ache. And with each stroke her voice got more ragged, her gasps more like moans.

This was wrong, of course, turning my stepsister over my knee and spanking her bare ass like there was no tomorrow.

But she didn’t say her word and the moans she made weren’t of pain. At the fourth stroke she began to squirm restlessly, trying to rub herself against my thigh, and I had to squeeze the back of her neck tightly to keep her still.

No matter how wrong this was, we were both enjoying the hell out of it. I felt in control and powerful, having her writhing in my lap, at my mercy. And knowing how much she was getting off on this was one hell of an aphrodisiac.

I spanked her one last time and she groaned, her voice ragged as she murmured the count.

Then I looked down, her bronzed skin a dusky red from my hand. Fuck, it was hot, looking at her fully dressed with her jeans and knickers pulled down. The sight made me harder than rock, my pulse going like a jackhammer in my head.

I squeezed her, making her shudder, her hips lifting as if wanting more. ‘That’s my good girl,’ I murmured, allowing my fingers to trail over her butt and down, pushing between her butt cheeks, finding the taut ring of muscle there. ‘You took that well. If you’re lucky you might get a little something for yourself.’

She groaned and I felt her muscles clench instinctively. I pushed my thumb a little harder against her, moving it in small circles, wanting to see how far she’d let me go, but she didn’t say her word. Instead she panted, squirming restlessly as I pushed.

A primal kind of satisfaction gripped me hard and I toyed with her a little more before letting my fingers wander lower, between her thighs. Her pussy was slick and slippery, and when I began to explore her wet folds she gave a long, low moan, her body shaking.

‘You liked that, didn’t you?’ I eased one finger slowly inside her. ‘My bad girl liked getting spanked, hmm?’

‘Yes...’ She lifted her hips against my hand. ‘I did l-like it.’

‘And now this little pussy is all wet.’ I pushed in another finger, the slick, hot feel of her flesh tightening around it making my breath catch and my pulse hammer relentlessly. ‘What do you think I should do about that?’

She moaned and twisted, trembling. Her hands clutched onto the cushions on either side of her head, her face turned against the pale linen. It was flushed, a sheen of perspiration on her forehead and top lip.

I watched that lovely face as I eased my thumb between her butt cheeks, pressing against her ass once again.

She groaned again, panting, her knuckles turning white.

‘I asked you a question,’ I reminded her quietly, pressing harder, watching her.

‘I think... God... I th-think you should m-make me come.’

‘Is that right?’ I pushed my thumb gently inside her, keeping my fingers buried deep in her pussy, watching her face and gauging her reactions to see what gave her the most pleasure. ‘Do you deserve it, I wonder?’

She gave a soft cry, her features twisting in what looked like agony. But I knew it wasn’t agony. She was close to coming, so close now. The air was full of the delicate scent of her arousal, sweetened with jasmine, making me even harder.

But I wanted to prolong the moment, to draw it out as long as possible, torture her with ecstasy as long as I could. Because right here, right now, between us there was nothing but honesty.

No lies and no anger. None of the murky, complicated emotional undercurrents that had been part of our relationship for so many years.

There was a purity in it. A rightness.

I was in complete command of her and she wanted me to be.

We were both getting exactly what we wanted and it was powerful. More powerful even than numbers.

Her hips twisted as if she was trying to work herself against my hand, my fingers in her pussy, my thumb in her ass.

‘I don’t deserve it,’ she said thickly. ‘I d-don’t... But I... Oh, God, Xander...please...’

I frowned a little. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘Because I... I’m a bad person. And I shouldn’t like what you’re doing to me.’ In the dim light, something gleamed on her cheek. A tear. ‘B-But I do like it.’

My chest tightened. A bad person? What the hell had made her think that? Who had made her think that?

A dark anger filled me, the protectiveness that had come over me earlier deepening. I wanted to push, ask her more questions, get to the bottom of why she should feel she was a bad person, because she wasn’t, not in any way. But now wasn’t the time.

She’d been so good for me. Time to give her what she wanted.

‘You’re not a bad person,’ I said with all the certainty I could, so there could be no argument. ‘You took your punishment like the brave, beautiful girl you are, and now you can have your reward.’ Letting go of the back of her neck, I fisted my free hand in her hair then began to work my fingers and thumb inside her, slowly, gently. ‘When you come I want you to scream,’ I ordered. ‘I want you to scream so loudly they can hear you outside.’

It didn’t take long. She was so wet and so ready.

And when the time came she screamed my house down.