Page 47 of Red

“It’s not exactly normal.”

He paused and looked up at her, his face taking a serious tone. “Normal is an illusion when it comes to this. Most men exaggerate their experience, and women often sugarcoat theirs. But you’re telling me the truth.”

“Who would lie about such a pathetic number?” She laughed, trying to lighten the thick tension building.

He quirked a brow. “You’d be surprised what people lie about.” He shuffled through the drawer. “I prefer you this way. Sweet, honest, nearly untouched.”

Melinda’s eyes went straight for the black leather riding crop Erik pulled out. Any remnants of his question flew from her mind.

“What’s that for?” she asked with a retreating step.

He chuckled and pointed it at her. “It’s for whatever I want it for. Back in place and hold the belt up for me. If I want to use it, I don’t want to have to ask.”

Melinda shifted the belt into her palms and put her hands out, offering him the leather strap. Her eyes fixated on the floor just before his feet. If he looked into her eyes again, he might see the burning arousal getting hotter.

“Obedient tonight.” He toed off his shoes and plucked his socks off, dropping them on the dresser. With measured steps, he made his way across the soft carpeting to her. “Hold this.” He pressed the handle of the crop against her lips.

She opened her mouth and bit down on the braided leather.

“Don’t drool on it,” he ordered harshly and delivered a hard slap to her breast. She grunted and stepped away, having not expected it. Her breasts swayed from the impact, giving her a new reason to blush.

Diverting her attention, she took in his body. She hadn’t seen a gym in the house anywhere, but he definitely lived in one. There hadn’t been any hiding his physique with clothing, but now, seeing the ripples of his stomach and the cut muscles in his arms, she nearly dropped the crop.

He chuckled. “Careful, sweet girl. You don’t want to be naughty right now.”

If it meant getting his hands on her body, she might take the chance.

He took crop from her mouth and checked the handle. “Good girl,” he crooned, lifting one breast with his hand and cradling it like a precious gift. “Drop your hands, but don’t let go of the belt.”

She put her arms down, gripping the belt to be sure it didn’t fall to the floor.

“I’m going to paint these tits red. And you’re going to take it for me.” Not giving her a moment to hesitate or disagree, he brought the flat of the crop down hard on her breast. She winced but let the sharp pain sink into her body. Again, he brought it down, glancing up at her to gauge her response.

“Such a sweet girl.” The swats become harder as he did exactly as he said. He painted her breast with the crop, delivering soft then hard blows until she couldn’t guess which was coming. When she hissed, he grinned, and when she moaned, he licked his lips.

“Fuck,” she cried out and jumped back out of his grasp.

His eyes darkened.

“I’m sorry!” She stepped forward again, but it was too late. She’d broken the rules; she’d moved.

“Why are you sorry?” He cocked his head to the side, the tip of the crop circling her nipple. Heat spread across her breasts; he’d not missed an inch of them with the crop.

“I moved.” She dropped her head. If he was laughing at her, she wouldn’t be able to stand the humiliation.

“And you weren’t told to move. You were told to stand still.” He moved the crop to her pussy. “You’re probably soaking my crop right now.” He slid the length of the implement between her thighs, through her folds. She squeezed her eyes closed. Just the flick of a touch against her clit had her curling her toes in the carpet. His movements drew her attention, and she opened her eyes to see him.

He pulled the crop back out and leveled it with her eyes. “Yep, look at the mess your little pussy made. Clean it for me.” He held the crop horizontally in front of her but moved away when she went to bit down on the handle again. “No, no. Stick your tongue out.”

How much more of this could she bear? She needed his touch, her skin was on fire, and she knew one touch from him would put out the flames.

Tears built in her eyes, but she obeyed him and slipped her tongue out.

“See, sweet girl? That wasn’t bad.” He ran the leather handle over her tongue, wiping her own juices on her.

A tear slipped from her eye, and he caught it with his fingertip, bringing it to his lips. “Such sweet tears. You like this little game, but it embarrasses you at the same time. Being told to stand naked in front of me, let me beat your tits, play with your pussy. Your body and your mind, they fight.” He took the belt from her and pushed her hands to her sides.

“Let go of the fight, Melinda.” He tossed the crop to the floor and cupped her face in his palms. “You’ll never win anyway. You belong to me, with me, and that will never change.”

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