I Belong to You (Inside Out #5)(28)

“Do you want me to f*ck you?”

“Yes, Mark, I do.”

He pulls me against him, my back to his chest, his hands covering my breasts, fingers teasing my nipples. “Say my name.”

“Mark.”

“Stubborn woman,” he growls, and tugs on my nipples.

“Ahhh.” I moan at the force of the tugs. “Ahhh. It . . . hurts.” He rolls them, tugging again, and the pain begins to turn to pleasure. My lashes lower and I feel my body melting into his. At the same moment, his fingers slip between my thighs, into the slick heat there, and I almost come from the touch.

“You’re wet, Ms. Smith,” he murmurs. “So very wet. I think you really do want to f*ck. Or maybe you just want to come.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Say my name.” His fingers slip away from my sex, while the other hand glides from my breast to settle on my waist.

Frustration rolls inside me and I whirl on him, ripping away the tie from my eyes as I all but yell, “Mr. Compton.”

He laughs and pulls me to him, the thick ridge of his erection against my hip. “Very good, Ms. Smith. That’s how you answer every command I give you while we’re f*cking tonight. That way, every time you say ‘Mr. Compton’ to me tomorrow at work, you’re going to think about my fingers between your legs and on your nipples—and so am I.”





Nine

Mark . . .

I watch the understanding fill Crystal’s light blue eyes, feel the softening of her body against mine a moment before she whispers, “Oh. Yes . . . we will.”

“And I plan to give you even more to remember, before this night is over.”

Her gaze drops to the thickness of my erection. She wets her lips and my shaft jerks with the impact of the seductive lick, and the many places she is taking my imagination. I guide her fingers and wrap them around the base. While I normally prefer not being touched, since that allows me control, I already crossed that boundary with Crystal in the past—and I crave her hands and mouth all over me, everywhere. Anywhere.

My grip tightens and her gaze lifts, her eyes laden with desire, those lush, beautiful lips that I’ve just fantasized about angled toward me. In a blink, hunger consumes me. She consumes me, and I can’t remember why I thought that was a problem before. I don’t want to remember. I just want her.

Twining the fingers of my free hand into the long, silky strands of her hair, I drag her mouth a breath from mine. “What are you doing to me, woman?” And then I claim her mouth.

My tongue strokes against hers, caressing, taking, drinking in the warm, sweet taste of her. She is one part willing woman, two parts challenge. I know I’ll never fully control her, and the very thing that would have made her wrong for me in the past is the very thing that makes her what I want and need now. She is freedom. She is passion. She is the safe place where I can be the man I’ve tried to deny beneath the Master persona, and failed. It’s why I failed Rebecca; it’s how I turned emotion into dangerous games. I had no idea how much I needed the freedom to simply be me.

Crystal’s fingers tighten on my cock, and it’s nearly my undoing. Tearing my mouth from hers, I promise, “I have a never-ending list of the wicked things I’m going to do to you, but right now, I just need to be inside you. Stand with your back to the footboard and your hands on top of it.”

Her swollen, deliciously kissed lips curve as she replies, “Yes, Mr. Compton.” It’s not the way a submissive would say the words. It’s a challenge, and even more, it’s a promise that she plans to use those words to taunt me in the future.

My blood thickens with the sultry words she’s turned on me, and I watch her walk to the bed, her beautiful ass a portrait finer than any of my many masterpieces. She turns to face me, her eyes colliding with mine as she presses her hands behind her onto the footboard. Her breasts are thrust high in the air, the nipples puckered in tight little balls. She’s all about challenge and seduction—and though she doesn’t know it yet, she’s going to pay for taunting me, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.

I reach for my pants and remove my wallet, retrieving the one condom there. Sex hadn’t been on my agenda tonight; my apology had. I roll the condom over the thick pulse of my shaft, then in two long strides, I’m in front of Crystal. My hand settles on her tiny waist with intentional possession. I meant what I said when I told her I wanted to own her, and not just her body.

My other hand goes beside hers on the footboard, and I lean into her, binding her without a device, my chest hair cradling the stiff peaks of her nipples. An easy shift of my body, and I settle my cock between her thighs, denying us both by avoiding that sweet, warm spot in the V of her body. A Master worth his salt knows how to build tension and work the passion to explosive, absolute pleasure.

“Do you really think you can taunt me and get away with it?” I demand, my voice soft but lethal.

Her chin lifts, defiance in the depths of her eyes. “Who said I wanted to get away with it?”

“So you wanted me to make you pay?”

“I just wanted you to hurry up and f*ck me. It didn’t work. You still aren’t f*cking me.”

I press my other hand to the footboard, trapping her with my body, my cheek pressed to hers. “Consider this a warning,” I say, inhaling her sweet, floral scent. “There’s a price for taunting me. A punishment.”