Her usual lavender scent is mixed with my aftershave and, well… me. It makes her feel mine. And suddenly, that becomes my only mission… to make her truly mine.
“Didn’t I tell you who is in charge in the bedroom, The Morrigan?” I growl into her ear, and appreciate the shudder that rakes through her. “I think I need to punish you.”
Her breath hitches, and it may just be my imagination, but she leans into me, gyrating her ass.
“Use your words.” I suck on the soft skin in the crook of her neck, suddenly very dedicated to marking her. Fuck, I have never felt this unrelenting need to claim someone.
“What was the question?” The words are a breeze only, but they are laced with frustration.
“Who is in charge?”
“You.”
“How should I punish you for being a little brat?”
“That wasn’t the question.” She elbows me, but the jab is a tickle.
“It is now,” I growl.
She stills for a moment, but then shocks me. “What are my options?”
I laugh. Fuck, she’s amazing.
I reach for the drawer and pull out a multi-tail whip. With one hand closing around her throat—not too hard, just to gauge her reactions—I trail the tip of the handle around her clavicle.
She swallows, and her pulse quickens against my palm. I continue to softly trace her skin with the whip.
“Look at these nipples begging for attention.” I circle each hardened bud, and she moans, throwing her head against my shoulder.
Her eyes are hooded, her lips parted, with my hand around her neck, and I almost abandon the game to bend her over and fuck her.
My cock would certainly be happy. But I don’t want to rush things.
I graze her torso farther down until I reach between her thighs. I stop while another shudder rakes through her body. I want to edge her, draw this out, but I also need another hit of her like a junkie.
I settle on capturing her lips. She welcomes me eagerly, dueling with my tongue, sucking, biting, moaning into my mouth.
No kiss ever felt more desperate and more rewarding at the same time. She tastes like anything and everything I ever needed in my life.
And she definitely doesn’t taste fake. No longer a convenience, she became the reason. The purpose. The answer.
“Is this the punishment?” she says against my lips.
“Not yet, The Morrigan; this is my reward.” I kiss her, squeezing her throat a little more, her heart thumping wildly against my palm.
She bites my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. “Whatever should you be rewarded for?”
I smirk, my face only half an inch from her, our noses touching. “For all the orgasms I gave you.”
“As if you didn’t come, as well,” she teases, her voice heavy with lust while sassing me.
“I think I need to put that mouth of yours to better use.” I whip her around, fisting her hair and pulling gently, so she looks at me.
She meets my eyes with a challenge in hers. With heat and unabashed desire. “Is that my punishment?”
Fuck, the things I want to do to her. “You would like to suck my cock, baby?”
She nods, licking her lips, and I summon every ounce of control not to succumb. “Not just yet.” I kiss her roughly. “First the punishment.” I swat her gently with the whip, just brushing the skin of her ass.