When I'm with You (Because You Are Mine #2)(43)

“I really didn’t mean to say anything about our past association earlier tonight,” she squealed a moment later when he slapped both ass cheeks at once. She clenched her bottom tight.

“Perhaps, but you are impulsive. You act before you think. Relax,” he prompted, slapping very lightly several times at her ass until she released the contracting muscles. She continued her confession as if she hadn’t been interrupted.

“And I only followed you because I was wondering what you were doing in the penthouse. Oh . . . merde . . . that stings,” she moaned as he swatted her several more times. Her hips twisted feverishly in his lap, making him grunt in pleasure. He stilled her wriggling bottom, pressing her down against his straining cock. They groaned in unison. She was blushing pink now. He would have to be careful of her. Her skin was quite delicate, and he would never want to cause her any true harm. “Lucien?” she asked raggedly. “What were you doing, listening to Ian that way?”

“That’s my affair,” he said distractedly, molding an ass cheek in his hand and treating it to several focused slaps. Her ass was turning nice and hot.

“But why were you spying on Ian Noble?” she persisted.

He snarled in irritation and lust and slapped her one last time. Hard. He shoved her panties down her legs and whipped them over her feet. Unable to stop himself, he slid his fingers between her legs, touching her outer sex.

Ah, bless it. Warm wetness slicked his skin. She gasped at his touch and then wiggled her bottom down closer to his hand, tempting him.

“Stand up,” he said sharply, his restraint a brittle thing.

Even though he commanded her, he helped her, mindful of her bound state. He rose. She stood before him, her luscious breasts plumped by her pearl-bound arms, her hair a sexy muss of golden waves and curls. Something about the six – or seven-loop strand of creamy gems around her wrists and forearms next to her naked skin really did it for him. Everything about her did it for him. He paused for a moment when he glanced at her face and saw the pink flush of her lips and cheeks.

He frowned. She ought to be outlawed for the things she inspired in a man—dark, dirty things . . . out of control things he’d surely later regret.

“What were you saying?” he asked, mouth tight, straining to recall why he’d been irritated.

“I . . . I didn’t mean spying . . . like . . . like . . .”

“My father?” he prompted quietly.

She scraped white teeth over her plump lower lip, the damp drag spellbinding him momentarily, making him forget his anger.

“I don’t think you’re like your father, Lucien. At least I hope you’re not. But that man in Paris, he mentioned Ian Noble. I don’t understand—”

“I’m not asking you to understand,” he said, touching her cheek and feeling her warmth. “I’m asking you to trust me. Do you?”

She nodded, but he saw the wariness in her eyes. He frowned and picked up the hairbrush from the bed. “Do you at least trust me enough to bend over for the rest of your punishment?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. “You’re going to spank me with Grand-Mère’s hairbrush?”

He smiled. “I like to innovate with whatever is available to me, and Grand-Mère will never know. It’ll be our own little secret,” he said, positioning himself next to her body instead of in front of her. “Now bend over.”

Her lips curved alluringly. She held his gaze as she leaned over slowly—a nimble, sleek seduction—putting her bound hands on her knees.

“Witch,” he accused. Her smile widened and he smiled back. He couldn’t stop himself. She couldn’t help it if everything she did was sex distilled. “Stare at the floor this instant. What did I tell you last time about seducing me during a punishment?” he asked mildly as he rubbed her firm, pink bottom. She stilled beneath him when his fingers brushed close to her thighs at the lower curve of her ass. He was so tempted to dip his fingers into the sweet, wet heaven of her.

“You said you’d give me more punishment,” he heard her say. He blinked, his lustful trance fracturing.

“That’s right,” he murmured as he trailed a hand up her spine and felt her shiver beneath his touch. His cock swelled so tight, he didn’t think there was room in his skin anymore. He wanted to ride her until the oblivion of climax shook him, abandon himself to her fires. But if he didn’t maintain control, both of them would be lost.

He firmed his hold on her shoulder and drew back the hairbrush, the smooth enameled three-by-four-inch back of it facing Elise’s ass.

“This will sting more than the spanking,” he said. “Why in God’s name couldn’t you have asked me for help?”

“I couldn’t,” he heard her say in a muffled voice.

“But why?” he demanded.

A pause. He waited, his arm suspended in the air.

“I was too proud,” he finally heard her whisper.

He swung the hairbrush. It hit her bottom with a brisk pop, the blow shivering through her taut flesh in a way that made his cock jump. He held her steady when she squeaked and lurched forward slightly.

He popped her bottom again and again.

“Ooh!”

“Is it too much?” he asked, palming a buttock and rubbing it. She was growing hot. He listened, his ear cocked, ignoring his raging cock.