Page 17 of Naughty Bedtime Stories

His slapped her backside, and she yelped. He smiled and intentionally, falsely, made her think he planned to continue the torture on her backside. He yanked her zipper loose, tugging her skirt, panties along with it, until they pooled at her feet.

He braced her from falling into the wall. Tonight, there would be no pain that wasn’t his erotic choice. The only pain, this night, would be the kind that was pleasure, the kind she could credit to no one or nothing but him. The kind he planned to burn into her memory forevermore, so she’d stay in hersweet little conservative world where she belonged and where he did not.

“Step out of them,” he ordered near her ear and then kicked the material aside as she did. She was soft and tiny in his arms, curvy in all the right places, compliant in all the right ways. Jacob slid down her body, his hands caressing her waist, her hips, until he knelt at her feet, and his teeth scraped her cheek then laved it with his tongue.

He turned her to face him, licked her clit, and slid his finger into the wet honey of her arousal.

Her knees trembled, and he steadied her, denying her more—denying her satisfaction.

“Jacob,” she gasped, as he slid up her body, kissing away her protest, letting her taste herself on his tongue and then setting her away from him.

He held her stare and popped her front-clasp bra free, shoved it and her blouse aside. Letting his hungry gaze lower and rake over her naked upper body, her plump red nipples that he knew she liked to have teased, licked, nipped. And tonight, they were going to get teased all right, in a way she wouldn’t soon forget. He leaned in and kissed her, savoring her response, playing with her nipples as he drank her in.

“Are you ready to go home yet?” he asked against her mouth.

“Are you coming with me?” She panted out the challenge.

He liked her like this, all fiery with demand of her own, in need of being put in her place…but then Marcus would have, too. The thought angered him, and he set her away from him, raking his gaze over her lush, hot little body. “Walk to the pedestal,” he said, “and let me look at you.”

Her chin lifted defiantly. “You undress first.”

“I command. You obey.”

“I thought Masters took care of the Subs needs,” she said.

His eyes narrowed on hers, hard like his cock, like his heart would be when this night was over.

Never again would any woman hold him captive. “One night does not a Master make,” he said. “And this night is not pleasure—it’s pain.”

A stunned look fluttered across her face. He arched a brow. “Ready to go home now?”

That stubborn chin of hers lifted again, and she marched toward the pedestal, her heart-shaped butt framed by the lace of her thigh-highs and swaying seductively as she moved. Damn that jacket around her hands, blocking his full view.

She stomped up the stairs and whirled around at the top of the pedestal, high heels digging into the carpeted floor beneath her, legs spread wide, breasts high and lush. He imagined the view was as delicious from behind, and the pedestal, set away from the wall like a stage, would allow him the enjoyment of confirmation. She was one hell of sight, bold and daring. He might even sayfearless.

“I realized something tonight when I did exactly what you said and offered myself to Marcus,” she declared, as if to prove his assessment. “I knew I didn’t have all of you when we were together. I knew you were holding something back, so I did the same. I kept up a wall and protected myself from getting hurt. But that last night when we were together, I couldn’t do it anymore. You had all of me, and I was scared to my bones. Not of the sex but of getting hurt. Marcus can’t hurt me, but you can.

That’s why I pushed you away, and that’s why Marcus seemed the easiest way to delve into your world. Because I love you. I really do still love you, Jacob.”

He stared at her, his chest and gut tight all over again. Jacob realized something then, how wrongly he’d approached everything with Darla, how selfishly he’d guarded her, sheltered her. No more. It was time to show her his world, really show it to her, let her experience it, let her make her own choices. Jacob started to undress, ready to get to the naked truth of the matter.

Chapter Four

Jacob said nothing in response to her confession, and Darla wanted him to say something. She stood on top of that pedestal and watched him undress, and with each piece of clothing that disappeared, she forgot about words. She’d show him what she felt, show him she wasn’t afraid of him, that nothing they did tonight would scare her away. And it was a plan she was going to enjoy. Jacob, naked, was simply spectacular, everything a man should be, everything no other man could be for her.

And she was going to tell him, to show him.

His eyes never left hers as he undressed. Dark and passion-filled, they warned her of no mercy; they warned her of the demands he would make of her. Told her he would push her limits, take more than she was willing to give. And she wanted him to, just as she had three years ago.

She was wet, just as she had been then, so wet, her thighs were damp; her clit so swollen, if not for her constrained hands, she wasn’t sure she could stop herself from touching it, from trying to relieve the burn. Then, to her surprise, he walked away in all his glorious nakedness and made a phone call, turning his back so she could not hear him, but giving her one hell of a nice look at his rock-hard backside and broad, perfect shoulders.

It was a sign of domination, she thought, the ability to keep her naked and on this pedestal while he made a phone call. She got that; she understood it. But what she was still coming to grips with was that being dominated by Jacob aroused her so completely. Her—the woman who thrived on coming out on top in a legal battle, of being the one in control. She wasarousedby not being in control.

By the time he ended the call, she was dying with anticipation. He stalked toward her, up the pedestal stairs, moving with predatory grace—six feet plus of finely muscled male. And she watched him with unabashed admiration, wetting her lips at the sight of his cock—thick and heavily veined with the pulse of his arousal. It was clear that he wanted her as she wanted him, but she also knew that this would offer her no hope of swift relief if he wished to tease her.

Their sex life might not have been bondage and games before that final night together, but it had never been lacking pleasure or longevity. He knew how to please a woman; he knew how to pleaseher.

She wondered in anxious anticipation if he would tease her, and walk to the back of her and approach from behind. Instead, he stopped in front of her, and his gaze raked over her body with the same boldness with which she had watched his approach. Touching her with a hot inspection, he slowly walked around her, as if he were drinking in every inch of her with his eyes. He paused by her side and surprised her by going down on one knee, his hand on her backside, mouth brushing her hip.

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