Sweet Temptation (Sweet #4)(73)

He was still inwardly seething when they pulled up to The House. Angelina started to open her door, but he stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

“Don’t get any ideas of running and hiding from me now, Angel girl. It’s time to pay the piper.”

CHAPTER 33

Angelina stared at him with a mixture of nervousness and heightened awareness. Arousal flooded her veins at the authority in his voice, and yet she felt compelled to argue.

“This was all your fault, Hudson. Not mine. If anyone needs punishing, it’s you.”

He had no liking for the reminder of him being underneath her whip. His eyes narrowed dangerously and he rubbed a thumb sensuously over the pulse at her wrist.

“Who said anything about punishment?” he said silkily. “Maybe I enjoy watching you writhe under the heat of a whip, how you flinch away and then beg for more with your next breath.”

She swallowed as heat rose from her belly to her throat. There was no denying his effect on her. Already she felt the touch of leather on her skin. The pain and exquisite pleasure all rolled into one.

“Hell, if I wanted to punish you, I’d lock you in your room and withhold sex from you. Something tells me I might survive it longer than you,” he said in amusement.

She yanked her wrist from his grasp and glared at him. He met her gaze and then said in a low voice, “Inside, Angel girl. It’s time to take what’s mine.”

On shaking legs, she walked into The House ahead of Micah. How quickly she’d gone from upset to anger and now to aching arousal. He brought out the best and worst in her, but then she’d always known loving him wouldn’t be easy.

She chanced a look over her shoulder as they entered, and the answering arousal she saw in his eyes sent a shiver straight up her spine. He wouldn’t be easy tonight, and maybe a part of her longed for him to give her every ounce of his passion, his need. She wanted him to take her to her very limits. It both frightened and excited her.

“Upstairs,” he directed.

The walk seemed endless, each step more difficult than the last. For all her dread, anticipation licked over her skin like fire over dry wood.

His hand closed around her arm when they stood at the top of the stairs, and he turned her in the direction of the common room. It was dark when they entered, and he flipped the lights, flooding the room.

It looked different without people having sex. It looked almost normal except for the miscellaneous pieces of furniture positioned around the room. A spanking stool. Would he use it? No, what he intended went beyond a simple spanking she was sure.

Sure enough he motioned her toward the beam where he’d flogged her that first night. She stood silently under it, waiting his command.

His gaze slid over her, his eyes gleaming with approval.

“Take off your clothes, Angel. Slowly. Pants first. Then your shirt. Leave your underwear on for now.”

She fumbled with the snap of her jeans. Despite her attempt to be graceful and seductive, she knew she appeared clumsy. Remembering his dictate, she peeled the denim slowly down her hips. Picking up one leg, she pulled her foot out, and then she did the other. She felt surprisingly vulnerable and she had yet to take off her shirt.

There wasn’t much to her underwear. Sheer lace, soft and silky, with thin strings over the curve of her hips connected to a small triangle at the juncture of her legs.

Her bra matched, a simple push-up to display her small br**sts to their best advantage. Even being the breast man she knew him to be, Micah didn’t seem disappointed in her assets.

Chill bumps spread across her chest and belly when she tossed the shirt aside.

“Arms up,” he commanded.

She raised her arms over her head, each feeling like it had a hundred-pound weight attached.

He pulled her wrists and looped the leather ties around them then pulled tight to secure the loops to the beam. She had to go up on the balls of her feet as her body stretched. Her back bowed under the strain, pushing her br**sts until they threatened to spill out of her bra.

Micah stepped around, his hand sliding over her belly and up to cup her breast through the material of her bra. He pushed, plumping the swell until her nipple peeked over the lace.

Electricity sizzled through her body when he brushed his thumb over the taut peak. Once, twice and then again, until it puckered and strained outward as if begging for more.

He bent his dark head to her breast and nipped sharply at the bud, seizing it between his teeth. He bit down hard and simultaneous streaks of pleasure and pain pushed her forward, arching desperately into him.

He went to his knees in front of her, his big hands gliding down her sides. His lips skimmed over her taut belly and he ended in a kiss just above the lace band of her panties.

There was no way she’d ever be able to explain to another person how she felt bending to his control. She was helpless before him, her body his to do with what he wanted. He liked inflicting pain, liked exerting his will, but she loved receiving it just as much. They were two halves to a whole, their passions the same. They were aroused by the same kinks, the same dark thrills.

She craved more. He was a drug, and he held her in his thrall.

Her underwear slipped down her legs, and he gently lifted each foot until she was free of the material. Then he ran his hands back up her legs as if he were worshipping her with every caress. No, he wasn’t punishing her. Micah did nothing in anger. He simply wanted to see her bound before him while he exerted his mastery over her body. His pleasure. Hers. They were irrevocably entwined.