Page 21 of Reluctantly His

All the girls said it hurt the first time, and I think I liked that idea. I liked the idea that the first time he took me would be like the first time he spanked me.

It would hurt, but only for a moment. Then that pain would turn into pleasure that was somehow darker, forbidden, and that made it all the sweeter.

My fingers moved faster over my clit as I thought about how it would feel. Maybe he would be slow and gentle for the first few thrusts, and then as my body got used to it, then he would let go?

Or maybe he would start as brutally as he finished?

My mind conjured images of him thrusting into me from behind, pulling my hair back and biting my shoulder, pinching my nipples, just adding that edge of pain to sharpen the desire.

I wanted him to take me hard and leave bruises to remind me of the bliss that he would demand from my body.

Darker images flashed through my brain as pressure built in my core, building to another sweet release.

In my head, I saw his hands on my throat, not trying to kill me but to control me. I saw him tying me to a bed and then taking me for hours, twisting me into different positions and claiming me, spanking me, and even pressing his thumb into my behind as he took me.

A sweat broke out over my brow, and I would have sworn I could hear him whispering in my ear. His voice was low and husky as he told me to come for him. I could almost feel his hand slap my ass as he demanded again that I come for him.

My back arched off the chaise, and stars exploded behind my eyes as I came with a silent scream.

And I would have sworn I heard his voice whisper, ‘Good girl’ in my head.

I caught my breath and stood up, seeing my own reflection in the mirror. My cheeks were bright red, my eyes glassy, and my lips still a swollen dark pink.

I looked ruined and alive.

This wasn’t what I was supposed to be. I wasn’t supposed to be a woman who fantasized about her guard brutalizing her, taking her hard and fast. I was not supposed to be the kind of girl who derived pleasure from pain.

I was supposed to be a living doll, pretty and silent.

I was born and bred to look good on the right man’s arm, raise his children, and further my family’s reach.

This was too much. Reid made me want too much.

I had to get rid of him before he destroyed everything.

CHAPTER 9

CHARLOTTE

“Father? Do you have a minute?”

His intense gaze flicked to mine in the mirror before returning to his task. “I’m late for this damn fundraiser to save the pigeons or some such nonsense.”

His jaw tightened as he yanked on the end of his incorrectly tied bowtie. “I hate these damn things.”

I stepped forward and slipped between him and the mirror. “Let me.”

We stood in silence for several moments as I adjusted one end to be a bit longer than the other and flipped it over the other end.

He tilted his head back as I brought it up through the loop.

I studied his face.

Usually, I was so focused on the stern, businessman side of him, or the distant and cold father, that I forgot he was actually a very handsome man.

More than one girlfriend from school had repeatedly referred to him as a “daddy”. Although even contemplating that was super creepy, I could see their point.

He was an older, more distinguished version of my brother with his sharp features and imposing height. Despite only being in his mid-forties, his thick hair had hints of silver, giving him a handsome, yet formidable appearance.

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