Page 48 of Tamed

My mouth was swollen and sensitized from the kiss he’d taken charge of, and my scalp too, from the way he’d pulled my hair. More sensations layered over the top of one another combining into a raw need that pulsed between my legs like another heartbeat.

His shirt was undone at the neck, the glimpse of his skin making me feel like a Victorian gentleman catching a glimpse of an ankle beneath a gown. I wanted to rip open his shirt, run my fingers over his muscled chest, trace the tattoos I knew lay beneath the cotton. Lick them even.

I was so hungry for him. His spicy, earthy masculine scent was making my mouth dry, and the heat of his body was a fire I wanted to warm myself against.

No, scratch that. I didn’t want to warm myself. I wanted to throw myself into that fire and burn to ashes in the flames.

‘Let’s get started’, he’d said. But all he’d done was push himself away from the chair and was now standing silent in his shirtsleeves, staring down at me with all the predatory intent of a bird of prey.

He often did that. Letting the silence sit until it got uncomfortable. I’d always hated it since I hated uncomfortable silences, and no matter how many times I tried to wait it out, I always failed. I could never keep my mouth shut long enough.

I couldn't keep it shut now.

“You’re just going to stand there?” I couldn’t help myself, the throb between my thighs becoming intense.

“At the moment, yes.” With slow, deliberate motions, he undid his cufflinks. “I’m in charge, remember?”

As if I could forget. He was always in charge of everything else so why wouldn’t he be in charge of this? Perhaps that was just as well, since I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. But he’d also said it was a lesson, so I’d learn how to do what he said, and I hadn't liked that, not at all. Except I couldn’t do anything about it, not if I wanted him. And I did. So much.

Still feeling pleased with myself that I’d gotten him to stay, I stared up into his night black eyes, looking for hunger there and seeing it.

He wanted me. Oh yes, he did.

He dropped his cufflinks on the small table beside the chair then began to roll up his sleeves with leisurely motions, as if he had all the time in the world. As he did so, his gaze drifted down my throat to my breasts, lingering there for a moment before moving further down, over my stomach and between my thighs, and staying there even longer.

I shifted restlessly, needing some relief, because the way he looked at me was an aphrodisiac of epic proportions.

“Also,” he murmured, not taking his gaze from between my thighs as he finished with his sleeves. “I told you not to speak.”

Oh shit, that’s right, he had.

“Unless you’re losing the feeling in your hands or you want to stop,” he added. “If you want to stop, I’ll stop. But that’ll be it. We won’t be doing this again. Are we clear?”

I nodded then bit my lip, trembling. I didn’t want to stop, not at all, but what if I forgot and said something? Would he spank me again? I found myself half hoping, half dreading that he would.

“And…” He reached down and slipped one large, warm hand beneath one of my knees, lifting it up and hooking it over one of the chair arms, making every muscle in my entire body tense. “I told you not to come until I said.”

A gasp escaped me before I could stop it, the feeling of being spread open and exposed winding the tension inside me even tighter. The material around my wrists tightened too, and I realized I must have been pulling on it again.

I took a shuddering breath, Caleb’s gaze fixed between my thighs. It was such an insane turn on, I almost couldn’t stand it. A plea nearly escaped, but I remembered at the last minute that I wasn’t supposed to speak, so I bit down on it hard.

But he wasn’t going to make this easy for me.

He put one hand on the arm of the chair, leaning over me, then he let the fingertips of his other hand brush lightly over my stomach before sliding over the slick folds of my pussy to my clit. Then he pressed down. Not hard, but hard enough to make it feel as if he’d just delivered a short, sharp electric shock direct to my central nervous system.

I jerked, the binding around my wrists pulling tight, the strangled cry I couldn’t keep inside escaping. And he kept his finger there, a constant, light pressure that I found utterly maddening. I wanted friction, I wanted that finger to move, to stroke me, to slide inside me, do anything but just bethere,giving me something, yet not enough.

“I told you not to come, little girl.” His deep voice was a caress all on its own. “So, I’d do what your daddy says and keep still if I were you.”

Daddy? He’d said that before and Jesus Christ, why was it so fucking hot? I had no idea, but it was.

My head pressed against the back of the armchair, my whole body trembling. He hadn’t moved his finger, he only kept up the light pressure against my clit, and he stared at me, his gaze boring into mine.

The pleasure was agonizing, resisting it impossible. I was never going to be able to hold out. He was finally touching me right where I wanted him to, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted his mouth, his hands on me, his skin next to mine, him inside me, and yet all I got was his fingertip on my clit and it…

Fuck, it was driving me out of my mind.

I wanted to come but he’d told me not to and now half of me wanted to ignore his stupid rules, while the other half was desperate to hold out just to prove that I could. Especially since he was very obviously trying to push me into disobeying him.

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