Being Me(Inside Out 02)(44)


“You can and you will.”
His words are as powerful as his touch, and I feel the bittersweet build of release. “Why do I get the idea you’d enjoy my failure?”
“Because I want to spank you.” His lips brush mine, his fingers stroking me with slow, sultry precision that is driving me wild. “And you want me to.”
I do and I have no clue why but the certainty that he will is so intensely erotic that my sex tightens around his fingers. The beginning of an orgasm is almost as alluring as his hand on my backside.
His fingers are suddenly gone, denying my pleasure, and I growl my frustration. “Damn you, Chris.”
“Damn me all you want but you still won’t come until I say you come.” He strokes my nipple and flicks it back and forth.
“I’m going to release your wrists and you will not move them. Understand?”
No, I do not understand! But I nod my agreement, certain that doing as he says is my only path to satisfaction.
His hand teasing my nipple falls away and he studies me, seeming to assess my willpower, or maybe just torturing me with the absence of his hands on my body. I’m ready to scream with the injustice of it when he sinks to one knee in front of me and his hands settle on my hips.
His gaze lifts and snags mine and I want to order his mouth to the most intimate part of my body. Slowly, his mouth lowers, not to the spot I crave him to be, but to my stomach. The soft, seductive touch of his lips, followed by the gentle stroke of his tongue, sends a shiver through me and my belly quivers beneath his mouth. The contrast of how tender he is in one moment and how hard and demanding he can be in the next fills me with anticipation and is as arousing as anything I’ve ever experienced.
Slowly, he trails his lips over the tender skin, his tongue dipping into my navel, tracing my hip bone, and finally traveling to just above the V of my legs.
I am breathing hard with the restraint I use to stop myself from reaching for him, and the muscles of my sex clench so tightly it hurts. “Chris,” I plead when I can take no more.
He rewards my urgency by licking my clit. Yes, please, more, I think, but do not dare say out loud, for fear he will do the opposite. I moan and another lick follows and it’s nothing shy of sweet bliss when his mouth closes down around me. He suckles my swollen nub, drawing deeply on my sensitive flesh and using his tongue at just the right moments until I am going insane. Sensations ripple through me and I have no willpower, no control. I tumble into orgasm and he immediately pulls his mouth from me, denying me full satisfaction, leaving my muscles clenching in partial release.
My knees buckle but he is on his feet, wrapping his arm around my waist, and holding me up. He lifts me into his arms and starts walking toward his bedroom. His words replay in my head. Come before I tell you to, and I’ll spank you right now. Chris doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean, and my heart races at the certainty of my punishment.

Chapter Fourteen

Chris carries me into his bedroom and I find I am far more aroused than fearful of the spanking. I am too lost in my desire to crawl inside the deep, dark secrets that are Chris Merit, to care.
This look inside his psyche is what I have craved, what I thought would take much longer to discover. I’m fully aware that his anger, and his possessive need to protect me, have opened a door to his darker side, and I revel in my ability to create such things in him. I’m not beyond seeing how our responses to each other reflect how damaged and messed up we both are, but I choose not to care right now.
Chris sets me down in the center of the room with the side of the bed to my back and the bathroom directly in front of me.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My dress is gaping at the top and the bottom is at my waist, leaving me exposed and looking ridiculously not sexy.
Attempting to tug it down, Chris comes to my aid, shoving  the straps to my dress and bra down my shoulders and over my hips. The material pools at my feet, leaving me in nothing but thigh-highs and high heels.
I step out of my clothes and Chris catches me around the waist, his strong arms encasing me, and I melt into the hard lines of his body. He lifts me, kicks my clothes away, and slowly eases me back to the ground without releasing me.
Our eyes meet and hold, and there is no mistaking the predatory gleam in his, or the anticipation charging the air between us. “I told you not to come until you had permission,” he murmurs, his voice husky, affected.
I scrape my bottom lip nervously. “I’ve never been good at following rules.”
His eyes glint with amber flecks. “I’m quite aware of that. And I might just enjoy it more than if you did.”
My fingers curl around his shirt. “Because you want to spank me?” I ask, cutting my gaze, embarrassed by my own question.

Lisa Renee Jones's Books