Page 26 of Wicked Games

For a spare moment, neither of us said a word. Our heavy mingled breathing the only sound in the room.

Then with a growl, his head swooped down to claim my mouth.

God help me, I kissed him back with a ferocity that shocked us both.

Like a woman possessed, the very fingers that were clawing at his wrists only moments before now delved into his hair, pulling him closer. My tongue dueled with his own. Breaking free, I ran the tip along his jaw, tasting the red wine that still clung to his skin. Then he captured my mouth again. Wrenching my hands from his hair, he slammed my wrists against the wall. Pinning me.

Jesus God, I was right. He was the type of man to just toss a woman against a wall and fuck her senseless. And just like the women in the movies, I was falling for it. Falling for every medieval, outdated, over-the-top, masculine bit of it.

Taking his lower lip between my teeth, I bit him in return, reveling in the metallic taste of blood that caressed my tongue. His primal growl against my lips only spurred on our blood lust.

Never.

Never in my life had a man ever treated me this way.

It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

To be taken.

Claimed.

He ground his hips into my own, pressing the thick ridge of his cock against the silken folds of my dress. Wrapping one strong arm around my narrow waist, he pulled me away from the wall. Pressing my body along his own, he took a few steps backward before swinging around. Spinning me till my back was against his chest, he once more slipped his fingers into my now disarrayed hair. Pushing forward, he forced me to lie down on the cool, polished surface of the dining room table.

The discordant scratching sound of fabric tearing met my ears as he tore away the overskirt and bustle, leaving only the thin silk underskirt and a pair of pantalets. His hand felt warm against my calf and the back of my thigh as he pushed up my skirt. The pantalets were just a sheer pair of linen drawers covering my hips and thighs and tied around the waist with a ribbon. Most embarrassingly of all, they were completely crotch-less with a slit that went all the way up the back, exposing my pussy and ass.

His slightly callused hand caressed the soft skin of my ass. Biting my lip, I tried to stifle a whimper. My whole body shook. I couldn’t tell if it was from arousal or fear. Memories of his brutal fucking in the carriage swam before my eyes.

Oh, God, I knew this was going to hurt.

He was too big, too angry… too dominating for it not to.

Peeking over my shoulder, I saw his right arm raised. I choked on my own cry of warning before I felt the hard sting of his slap. This time on my ass cheek.

“Ow!” I whimpered as tears stung my eyes.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

I couldn’t answer.

He slapped me again. In the same spot. My skin was on fire with a thousand pin pricks.

“Answer me, Elizabeth.”

“Yes,” I choked out. Sniffing, I repeated my plea, “Yes, I’ll be good.”

“What is about to happen?”

My shoulders shook as I whispered, “You’re going to fuck me.”

A volley of stinging spanks hit both cheeks of my ass and the backs of my thighs. I strained up on my toes as I desperately tried to escape his punishing hand. I could feel my flesh painfully swell as throbbing heat spread over my skin.

“Stop! Stop!”

“I have warned you against such vulgar language.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” My tearstained cheeks slid against the wood of the table as my hands clawed at nothing.

“Say you were naughty and ask me to punish you.”

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