Page 15 of Feast

She blew a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Why?”

“I didn’t bring any rope with me.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” she asked, straightening, then nearly overbalanced when she realized he was standing in front of her.

He caught her before she could fall on her ass, then used her momentum to scoop her up. She made a sound like a frightened puppy and grabbed his shoulders, clinging to them as he carried her, her hobbled feet banging into his shins, to the bed.

He set her on her butt on the edge of the mattress. “Lie back,” he instructed, planting one finger on her sternum to make sure she obeyed, then picked up her feet and placed them on the edge of the bed. “Comfortable?”

“Not really,” she managed, staring up at the ceiling. Her butt was right on the edge of the mattress, leaving little room for her feet, and with her jeans bunched around her ankles she couldn’t spread them apart for balance. With her feet forced together her knees were forced apart, exposing her bare pussy and leaving her feeling very, very vulnerable.

Shereallyliked it.

He was quiet, and after a moment she picked up her head to see why. He was looking at her face, almost like he was waiting for her to do just that, then dropped his gaze between her spread thighs.

“I like this,” he said, taking one hand off her feet to brush his fingertips oh so lightly over her pubic hair.

“Yeah?” she said, pleased. It was always a question mark, how men would react to the fact that she didn’t shave herself bare. She did tidy up, simply because the springy curls often wandered well past the boundaries of a bathing suit, and she was as eager to avoid embarrassment at the pool as the next person. But for the most part she left it alone, and the result was a lush thatch of hair that men either seemed to love or loathe.

Though she would have had no trouble calling a halt to the proceedings if he’d reacted poorly—one potential lover who’d suggested she shave it before he would deign to venture ‘down there’ had been quickly shown the door—she was sincerely grateful that 3A seemed to be firmly in the ‘love’ category.

“Oh, yeah.” He tangled his fingers in the thick pelt of it and gave a gentle, testing tug that sent an electric current racing over her skin. Her breath caught at the sensation, and the look on his face as he watched her absorb it was…well, hungry.

He tugged again, more firmly this time. It added a little zip of pain to the burst of pleasure. “Too much?”

She shook her head, unable to speak for a moment. “No,” she finally managed to say, forcing the word past the thickness in her throat.

He didn’t smile, but she could see her answer pleased him. “Didn’t think so,” he rasped, and with a last tug, slid his hand down.

She held her breath, waiting, but his long fingers slid right past her aching clit and swollen labia to press on the inside her of thigh. “Wider,” he said, bringing his other hand up to push against her opposite leg, forcing them further apart before she could even begin to obey.

“They’re as wide as they can get,” she protested and gave a brief, fervent prayer of thanks for the yoga classes she’d been faithfully attending for the last year. There was no doubt in her mind that without them, her thighs would’ve been screaming as he gently but firmly pressed her knees down and out, her feet turning so the soles of her boots met.

“No back talk,” he scolded and smacked the inside of her left thigh. He didn’t hit her hard—in fact, she barely felt the sting—but it made her leg bounce and her thigh ripple and the sound that it made, that distinctive slap of skin on skin startled a cry from her.

He watched her for a moment, his eyes carefully assessing, and a faint smile curved his mouth. “I didn’t hear a ‘yes, Daddy,” he admonished and slapped her again.

Though he hadn’t hit her any harder than he had the first time, he’d aimed for exactly the same spot, and with the faint burn from the first slap lingering, the sting from the second was amplified. It didn’t hurt, not really, but it seemed hot—almost hotter than she could stand, spreading fire through the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

She wondered what that fire would feel like on her pussy.

She had to swallow twice to get her voice to work, but when she finally managed to choke out a, “Yes, Daddy,” she was rewarded with a genuine smile.

“That’s my good girl,” he said in a soft, almost soothing voice, and bent down to place a gentle kiss on her burning skin.

He was so close to where she wanted him—his hair was tangling in her pubes, for God’s sake—and because she was a woman used to doing what she wanted when it came to sex, she tried to wiggle her pussy closer to his mouth.

His quiet chuckle vibrated against her. “Nope,” he said and slapped her right thigh.

“Shit!”

The curse burst out of her as the sting burst through her. Though he’d hit her a little harder than before, the pain faded almost instantly into a heavy, maddening heat that seemed to travel right to the aching, pulsing core of her. She stifled her frustration and tried a glare. “Why do you keepdoingthat?”

“Because you keep misbehaving,” he said mildly.

“All I did was wiggle,” she protested innocently.

“All you did was try to take control,” he corrected, amusement gleaming in his eyes, and smacked her thigh again.

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