Page 45 of Clubs

“Oh, no, I know better than that.” He swung my arms overhead, then held them in place with one hand. Reaching past me to the corner of the bed, the whoosh of the nylon strap against the silk sheets sounded. He freed one of my arms, tucked a leather cuff around it, then wound it tight. Tighter than usual, but he still checked to make sure that he could slide 2 fingertips between my skin and the cuff. Angry or not, kink was only fun if it was safe. He repeated the process with my other wrist. Once they were bound and secured to the bed, he reached into the nightstand. The buzz of my vibrator sounded a second later. Bringing it to my clit, he gave a wicked smile. “But I know exactly how to punish your bad little ass. You’re going to hate every sucking minute of it.”

Gasping at the pleasure that quaked through me, I laughed. “Well, I’m not hating it right now.”

He grabbed my leg, lifted it onto his shoulder, and plunged deep into me. Didn’t take the vibrator off my clit for a second. He pounded so hard into me that I had no doubt he hit my cervix. Hell, he may have been halfway up my intestines. And as much as I wanted to hate it, paired with the power of the vibrations against my clit, I was already moments from a climax.

Hearing the octave of my moan change, knowing I was getting closer, he pulled the vibrator away. I whimpered. He gave me that devious smile again. “Yeah. You’re gonna fucking hate this.”

Ah, fuck.

Yeah, I was gonna hate this.

Edging’s all fun and game’s until someone’s very mad, and then it’s not even close to fucking fun.

“Declan—”

He brought the vibrator back to my clit, slamming his cock into me again. “I’m trying so fucking hard to make this work with you.” Pushing the vibe in harder, thrusting so deep that I squealed, he grabbed hold of my face. “But I don’t know what the fuck to do with you, Brooke. I’m so god damned tired of fighting with you all the time.”

I tried to speak, but he had my face pinched between his thumb and forefingers, so only gibberish came out.

“What was that?” As kind as that sentence may have read, he was still talking through gritted teeth. He released my face just enough to let me try again.

“I didn’t start this fight,” I made out, squirming beneath his touch.

That pissed him off, because he pumped in harder, slamming an open palm across my tit. I whimpered. He didn’t care. “This fight’s been brewing for a long time, and we both fucking know it.”

No, I didn’t.

This was how we were, how we always had been. Was this fight more volatile than the rest? Sure. We usually had attitudes, but we didn’t scream at each other. Not the way we just had.

This was the first time it was about us. Most of our fights—no matter how frequent—were about dumb shit. His inability to take off his dirty boots before he walked on my nice rugs. My inability to let him pay when the check came. How I emasculated him by calling him a sourpuss when he showed with an attitude, or how much of a bitch I was with him on a bad day.

This one was different, and no, I hadn’t seen it coming.

“And if we’re not gonna talk it out like fucking adults, this is what you’re gonna get.” He pushed the vibrator in deeper, covering my mouth when I screamed that it was too much. If it was really too much, I’d say so in his mind, and he’d stop. But I hadn’t reached that point, and he knew it. “You’re gonna listen. For once in your life, you’re gonna listen to me, damn it.”

I’m listening, asshole, I said to his mind.

Jaw tight, he clicked the button, and the intensity of the vibrations picked up.

I yanked desperately against the restraints to no success. Half out of instinct, half because, holy shit, it was too much.

So much that he pulled it away before I could finish.

I whimpered.

“Oh, does that piss you off?” Pulling out of me, releasing my face, he slammed an open palm against my clit. I squealed in a combination of pain and pleasure. “Good. Now you know what it feels like. Now you know what it’s like when I say ‘I love you,’ and you say, ‘you too.’”

The passion, the fury of this moment, dissipated. I couldn’t help my laugh. “Really? You’re gonna do this right now?”

Another open handed slap against my clit.

I squealed that time, and he got way too much fucking joy from it, judging by the release of his jaw.

“Yeah, I fucking am.” He thrusted into me again. “The is the only place you let your fucking walls down. Maybe you’ll say it back between begging me to let you come.”

“Jesus Christ.” Scoffing, I shook my head. “You realize how ridiculous you are, right? You tie me to your bed and edge me to get me to profess my love for you?”

He brought the vibrator back to my clit. “Still not an ‘I love you.’

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