Raw Redemption (Crossing the Line #4)(62)

“Coming?” she whispered, pausing with a hand on the jamb. God, that bikini was riding a little too low for his peace of mind. Any lower and the top of her slit would show. Had she tugged it down while they were walking?

“You know I can’t,” he rasped.

Henrik watched in slow motion as Ailish dipped a finger into the front of her bathing suit bottoms and slid it back and forth, tugging them down farther with every sensual journey. “Just to the closet?”

He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t take just a few minutes with her, could he? The men were drunk off their faces downstairs. He could still hear their shouting and laughter from outside, the scraping of metal chairs telling him they weren’t coming back inside any time soon. Stop trying to justify it. “Get inside and lock the door,” Henrik said, adjusting his erection with a muffled groan.

Ailish was breathing too fast, her cheeks bright pink. She was enjoying his torture, but there was apology in her eyes, too. His girl had a kink, and he was the target. Not something to be sorry about, but she’d chosen a damned inconvenient time to play. Jealousy had done something funny to him. Made him want to be aggressive with her, even more than usual. Made him want to claim her in rough f*cking fashion.

Common sense had Henrik moving backward down the hall, but he’d only taken a few steps when Ailish peeled off her bathing suit bottoms and tossed them into the dark bedroom. She turned slightly in the doorway, just enough to give him a view of her ass, before slipping into the room. “Suit yourself.”

Need choked Henrik, propelled him forward. Into the room. He had blinders on, couldn’t see right or left, only straight ahead. The closet was pitch black when he entered, closing the door behind him with as much ease as he could muster. “Where are you?” he grated. “Ailish.”

“Here.”

Just a breath away. His hands lifted, running over the curve of her hips, higher to strip off the bikini top. Soft. So smooth and soft. She moaned as Henrik spun her around until she faced away. “What do you want all this teasing to lead to, huh, baby? What are you hoping I’ll do?” Henrik held his hips away from the temptation of Ailish’s ass, otherwise he’d never be able to walk out of there. Not without feeling the tight stroke of her inner walls along the ridges of his cock. Not without listening to her beg. So instead of fitting her against his lap, Henrik rubbed his palm in circles on her backside. “Answer me.”

“I’m not sure,” she said on a shudder. A hand closed around Henrik’s heart, a symptom of the honesty in her voice. She was pushing that sweet ass into his hand, going up on tiptoes to accomplish it, and he battled between the urge to continue on his quest to fulfill a need he sensed in Ailish—and turning her around, holding her until their pulses steadied. “I just want you to need me. So bad that you can’t stop yourself from…taking.”

He pressed his face into her hair. “I passed need weeks ago. Need is just a word. I am my starvation for you, Ailish. It rules me.”

Her breath released in an excited rush. “Show me what it does to you.”

Like a red flag being waved at a bull, Henrik gripped her ass cheek so tight, she gasped. “It makes me want to discipline you for teasing me.” Letting go of her taut flesh, he pulled Ailish’s hair to one side so he could speak directly against her ear. “That’s what you’ve been asking me for, isn’t it? You haven’t been naughty for the sake of being naughty. You want repercussions.”

“I-I don’t know. I’ve never—”

“Hands on the wall, cock tease,” Henrik ordered, tugging on the strands of red hair he’d snagged with deft fingers. The sound of her whimper was accompanied by clothes being shoved aside, hangers squeaking on the rack, the barely audible thud of her hands connecting with the wall. “We’re going to find out, aren’t we? See if you flashed that ass at me for a reason.”

“Yes.”

Muscle memory kicking in, Henrik inserted his boot in between Ailish’s bare feet and shoved her legs apart. “I wish like hell the lights were on so I could see you spread.” He stroked a hand down her spine, around her hip, and up her rib cage. Back down and around. Over and over. “Those nipples hard, baby? Tell me.”

He sensed her nodding a second before she whispered, “Y-yes.”

“Good. I want to think about them bouncing when I spank you. Want to think about your * giving a little shake from the impact, too.”

Ailish began to pant. “You’re going to spank me?”

“Until you’re dripping down the insides of your legs.”

Henrik angled his body to the side, reared his hand back, and slapped the flesh he’d been in need of touching to the point of pain. His cock reacted to the cracking sound, filling and expanding in his boxer briefs. Jesus. Christ. He’d never spanked a woman before. Had never thought he’d find it appealing. Or maybe it was only an activity that could be pleasurable with Ailish, because—f*ck—he loved the image in his head. Ailish in a frisking position against the wall, being punished by his hand. But his concern began to mount when Ailish remained silent, after her initial gasp.

“Baby.” He smoothed his hand over the place he’d landed the light blow, tending the supple flesh with an up-and-down rub. “You want some more?”

She tilted her hips, arched her back. “More.”