Page 36 of Negotiation Tactics

He grabs my hips and hoists me onto the desk, knocking the folder with documents on the floor. Positioning himself between my legs, he dives for me. His tongue pushes past my lips, dominant and hot. I moan, chasing after it, after his taste of chocolate and whiskey. It’s head-spinning, lighting me on fire as I struggle to get enough air to my lungs.

We pause, but I don’t get to take a rest as he lifts me up and carries me over to the huge bed. I’m dropped down unceremoniously, and next thing I know, he’s taken off my shirt and pants.

I don’t even know how he manages it, or when exactly, but I’m also not about to complain. I’m too far gone already. My brain is a mush, and then all remaining common sense flies out the window when he rids himself of his own clothes.

Scrambling to sit up, I take him in. Oh my god. He’s mouth-wateringly gorgeous, like a Roman sculpture that’s come to life. I want to lick every part of his body, to worship anything I can get my hands on. I want to feel his cock, to experience the intensity of the stretch as he slowly claims me.

“Cat got your tongue?”

I can only stare at him. This is heady. He’s completely hijacked all my senses because all I can hear and smell and feel is Alistair Devon.

With a smile that oozes self-satisfaction, he leans in and hooks a finger under my chin, tipping it up. The kiss that follows is the best one yet, a dirty and desperate chase of our tongues that I can’t get enough of. He groans as I let out a moan, and cradles the back of my head so he can keep me exactly where he wants me. His other hand reaches for my dick.

My eyes roll back as I let out a growly cry of pleasure. The sweetest fever spreads through me as he starts jacking me off, making my blood thrum. I’m a livewire. A bomb about to go off. But even so, I want more, all that he has to offer, because this is nowhere near enough.

“More,” I plead without thinking.

My cheeks catch fire the moment the words are out of me, but it’s too late to take them back or hide, his imploring eyes drinking me in like I’m the most beautiful flower in the entire world.

“So demanding.” He squeezes my slit, making me hiss. “Even though I’m yet to punish you for sneaking into my room to search for dirt on me.”

Out of somewhere, he produces a pair of cuffs and a riding crop. Goosebumps erupt all over me as he drags the luxurious tip of the leather crop down my chest and abs. This is where I should oppose him, give him a run for his money. But I can’t bring myself to. I want this, to be his plaything and do as I’m told. I can’t explain it—it’s just a need that awakened one day, a secret that I’ve kept from everyone until I met Alistair on that night.

It just happened then, a natural conclusion to our clashing characters, to my stubbornness and his need for control.

“I told you that wasn’t why I was here,” I deny futilely, grunting when he slides his fingers down my shaft and clasps the base of my cock.

“Oh? So why then?” He licks the shell of my ear. The closeness of his mouth makes me want to taste it again. “Was it to seduce me? Or were you just looking for trouble?”

All of the above? I don’t fucking know anymore. “Listen, asshole—”

“Give me your hands,” he cuts me off, his voice suddenly full of authority. Suddenly potent, like a snake slithering around my heart.

I blink at him, then scramble to comply because, damn, the dark promise in his blue eyes is irresistible. He’llgive me what I want. What I need. But I have to prove to him first that I deserve it.

Once he’s locked the cuffs comfortably around my wrists, he issues his next command. “Face the headboard. Get on your arms and knees and lift your ass. And I want you to spread your legs so I can see your pretty hole.”

Fuck. This is embarrassing, but oh so good. My cock hangs heavy and wet between my legs as I wait to see what Alistair will do next.

“That’s it,” he hums, rummaging through the nightstand. I can’t see what he retrieves.

Clasping my waist, he pulls me nearer to the edge of the bed. A finger presses against my twitching entrance, rubbing and teasing but not doing more. Just when I can’t take it anymore, the pressure is gone.

A whiny noise escapes me, making him chuckle. “So needy,” he whispers into my ear, then reaches over and clicks the cuffs he put on me to the chain locked around the headboard.

Then, without warning or anything, the first slat of the crop comes.

My entire body jerks, startled. A pleasantly burning sensation surges through me, raising my hackles. The second hit is just as unexpected, but the third and the fourth have my stomach knotting in anticipation.

Fuck, it feels so good. The way the crop strikes my skin, the burn it leaves behind. It’s different than when Alistair spanked me with his hand, more targeted. He alternates between my ass cheeks, occasionally delivering a gentler strike to my hole, and I’m getting closer and closer to losing my mind.

“So nice and red for me,” he coos, sounding awed. His fingers feather over the pulsating areas, their tips light in their touch. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Fuck, yes, please.I love this, but I know it can be better. More intense. Bits and pieces from that night swirl in my mind, fueling the need within me.

“What was that, brat?” he demands, pulling on my hair until my back can’t arch anymore.

I swallow hard as our eyes meet upside down. “Stop talking and fuck me already.”

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