Anything He Wants: The Betrayal(4)
Fingers wrapped around my nipples and I tensed, waiting for the pain, but he only fondled them a bit then let go, leaving the bra displaced and my breasts exposed. A perverse disappointment jolted through me and I stifled a sigh. I don’t like pain, I thought, but the avowal seemed weak even in my mind.
The rope jerked up again, until only the tips of my toes scraped the ground. Muscles stretched in my arms and my wrists burned, but I clamped my lips together and kept silent. I thought I heard the whisper of footsteps behind me as another hand smoothed over my backside. “Should I take you anally? You seemed to enjoy it yesterday but unprepared it can be very painful. Is that punishment enough for playing fast and loose with your life?”
A hand cracked against one cheek and I flinched, the movement swinging me around. I scrambled for purchase, my panties falling to the ground as Jeremiah disappeared again but I couldn’t stop the slow twirl of the rope. Another spank across the same cheek made me spin faster, butt burning.
“Should I use my belt on you?” he asked, voice tight again. The sound of a buckle being loosened came from nearby. “Would that keep you from any more foolhardy attempts like this? Answer me!”
“I’m sorry,” I replied, earnestly meaning the words and not just because of his threats. I remembered the desperation on his face, the loss of control when I was in danger, and my throat tightened. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re sorry, what?”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“What are you sorry for?”
Hurting you. The pain on his face, the rage when he’d confronted his brother, the surge of emotion, was what I regretted most. I knew, however, that wasn’t the answer he wanted. “For disobeying you and putting myself at risk.” At the last minute I barely remembered to add, “Sir.”
Hands grabbed my hips and hauled me forward against a hard body, knee moving in between my knees. Taken by surprise, I instinctively opened my legs and was hauled up until I was straddling hips. I felt a moment of probing against my naked core, then he plunged inside and I gasped.
“I promise you,” he growled, punctuating every other word with a thrust of his hips, “you’ll feel every one of those punishments if you ever do this again.”
I tightened my legs around him as one big hand moved to my back, holding me still as he rammed into me. The sheer power of each deep stab bounced me into the air; there was little pain, but because my body had been preparing for a much harsher punishment, every nerve ending was alive and on fire. His hands dropped to my backside, squeezing and parting the twin globes for deeper access, and I exploded. The orgasm took me by surprise, my body bucking and twisting as he continued his assault.
Our movements had dislodged the cloth over my eyes and, panting, I looked down to see Jeremiah watching me, his face strained by his own desire. The raw hunger in his eyes seemed more than just sexual, and the sight stabbed through my heart. I wanted to kiss him, caress his beautiful face, but the bonds held me aloft, keeping me from giving him any comfort. Maybe this is my punishment, I wondered, feeling the loss keenly in my gut. How oddly appropriate. Then he shuddered beneath me and the moment passed, and we both took a moment to come down from that stunning high.
Holding me tight against his body, he reached up and effortlessly untied the knot from around my wrists. My limbs felt boneless as he set me on my feet. I wobbled, bare feet scraping against the wood floor. His grip was gentle, so different than only a moment before when everything had been quick and rough, but as soon as I was steady he let me go and stepped away. “Get your clothes on and I’ll take you back to the house.”
Jeremiah turned away before I could get a good look at his face; disappointment churned in my belly at the subtle snub but I set it aside, dressing myself quickly and following after him. He had moved toward a far wall, and as I approached he pulled aside a thin rug covering a pair of rings in the door and hauled open a trapdoor in the floor. The hinges didn’t make any noise as the hatch swung open. “This will take us to the house.”
I stared wide-eyed down into the darkness. Steep concrete steps led down into the underground passage, and a chilly damp wind blew from somewhere at the other end. “Is it safe?”
“This is how I came in here unseen. It’s safer than going outside, at least until we figure out who’s behind all this.”
Still I balked. “Why do you have a trapdoor to the boathouse?”
Jeremiah’s lips thinned but he answered, “There were incidents in my childhood that necessitated…additional measures. My father was a paranoid man, but in some instances he had good reason to be afraid. The house has a panic room and this exit in case of an emergency, but we’ve never had to use either since he died.” He held out his hand. “Come on, Lucy,” he said, his voice gentler than before, “let’s get you to the house.”