Dark and Stormy Knight (12 page)

He promptly did as she instructed and, after the cuffs were on, she covered his eyes with the mask.

“What are you going to do to me?”

She felt devilishly empowered. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

He laughed. “I guess I had that coming.”

“That and more.”

He was spread before her like an erotic banquet, hers to feast upon as she pleased. Sexual hunger growled low in her abdomen as her gaze traveled over his physique. Whatever she did, she would take her time. He was a tempting treat. She planned to savor every bite.

Moving around to his knees, she stepped between them, forcing his legs apart. The piercing intrigued her, so she decided to start there.

His erection was starting to flag. She stroked his length with her fingertips, reveling in the texture of its ridges and indentures. At its base was a nest of dark hair. There was more on his balls, which were drawn up. She ran her hand over them. They felt soft and squishy, but also fuzzy.

Arranging her skirts, she knelt on the floor between his legs. Wrapping her hand around his shaft, she held his erection upright as she dragged her tongue over his piercing and across the dome of his glans. The sexy moan he emitted made her ache with need.

Tightening her grip, she began to pump his shaft as her lips and tongue teased the head. He flexed his hips, encouraging her to take him deeper. As she complied, she flicked her tongue against his piercing. A low groan rose from deep in his throat. Oh, my. She liked the sound of his enjoyment, liked having this kind of power over him. She also liked the smooth texture, salty flavor, and impressive size of his cock.

“Sweet Mary,” he rasped.

She took him deeper and sucked hard. He groaned again. Locking her gaze on his face, she twirled her tongue around the tip again. His lips were parted, his neck arched. She would have loved to see the expression in his eyes, but that blindfold was staying put.

Gaze locked on his expression, she swirled and flicked her tongue up and down his length. Her hand sought his balls. As her mouth teased his cock, she petted, cupped, and fondled the tender eggs inside his fleshy scrotal sack.

“Oh, aye, lass. That feels nice.”

Spurred by the husky verbalization of approval, she took his cock deeper into her mouth as her tongue skimmed up and down the underside, paying special attention to his piercing. His hips bucked, forcing the head into her tonsils. She gagged and let go. “Jesus, dude. I’m not Linda Lovelace.”

He laughed, so she took his dick into her mouth again. Jamming her tongue into the hole on the tip, she very gently bit down on his shaft.

“Oh, yeah. Punish me. I deserve it.”

Why not? She was game within reason. She bit harder and pulled the hair on his balls. He groaned like he was getting off on this, so she flicked him in the scrotum with her fingers while dragging her teeth up and down his blood-gorged shaft.

He groaned, setting off fireworks low in her abdomen. The sizzle gave way to a tingling burn that made her eager to have him inside her.

Hot damn, this was a total fucking turn on. With his cock still between her teeth, she ran both hands down the insides of his thighs. As she brought them back, she clawed his flesh with her fingernails.

He thrust his hips upward, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth.

“Oh, aye,” he rasped.

He was getting closer to the moment of truth. The money shot, they called it in porn movies. How she knew that, she couldn’t say. Something she’d heard at film school, probably.

His body was taut, his hands were fisted, his nuts were hugging his shaft, and he tasted of salty pre-cum. Plus, he was doing that sexy heavy breathing thing. Damn, it was hot to see him so worked up, though she wasn’t quite ready for the denouement.

She wanted to fuck him first. To feel that huge cock of his inside her, possessing her the way she yearned to possess him.

Releasing his erection with a pop, she pulled herself to her feet, gathered up her skirts, and climbed onto the chaise, one knee on either side of his hips.

As much as she ached to feel him inside her, she wasn’t going to do it without protection.

“Where do you keep the condoms?”

“There’s a tub of them under the chaise.”

Good, but that could wait. Once they fucked, he’d want to switch places, and she wanted to enjoy her power over him a little longer.

A line of dark hair marched across his rippled abdomen, past his navel, and up the center of his ribcage before fanning out across his chest. Getting down on all fours, she lowered herself over him and kissed her way up the trail. At his chest, she stopped to lick, suckle, and nibble his unadorned nipple. When she’d had her fill, she moved to the other side, slipped her tongue through the ring, and wiggled gently.

His chest hair tickled her lips as she worked her way upward. She pressed her lips to his collarbone and that sexy notch at the base of his throat.

She licked his neck and latched on like she meant to give him a hickey—to see what he’d do more than anything else. He didn’t object, which equally surprised and pleased her. She sought his hair, finding it as soft and silky to the touch as she’d imagined.

Moving higher, she kissed his jawbone and the cleft in his chin.

“Miss Morland,” he whispered, startling her some, “you’re breaching the borders of dangerous territory.”

She rose up on all fours. “What’s wrong, Sir Leith? Is all this too intimate for you?”

“Aye, it is.”

Hovering over him, she aligned her face over his. “And you don’t like it?”

“On the contrary. I like it very much.”

She touched her lips to the tip of his perfect nose. “How will I die if I kiss you?”

“It isn’t the kiss,” he said softly, but with an edge to his burr. “It’s what it might lead to.”

Puzzled, she scowled down at him. “I don’t understand. What could it lead to that isn’t good?”

“Love, Miss Moreland. Kissing is intimate, and intimacy engenders affection. That is why prostitutes never kiss on the mouth.”

Blinking a few times, she endeavored to wrap her mind around the full meaning of what he’d just disclosed. It sounded as if kissing on the mouth would make him fall in love with her. That seemed like a good thing. A very good thing, in fact.

Parting her lips, she lowered her mouth onto his.

She was prepared for any number of reactions. Topping the list were tight-lipped resistance and a swift turn of the head. She even half expected him to turn into a slimy, wart-covered toad. What she didn’t expect was to find herself lip locked with a black-and-white cat the size of a Collie.

Leith hissed and took a swipe at her. When she moved away, he jumped down from the chaise and took refuge in the shadows. Damn her. She’d broken her promise.

She’d also slipped out of her role, which he’d daftly allowed. Worse yet, she’d lit the long-banked fire in his heart. Though only a tiny flame at present, even a spark could escalate if steps weren’t taken to contain them. He must, therefore, douse his feelings at once.

The question was, how?

The conniving wee rodent was still on the chaise, looking contrite and a bit shell-shocked. Good. At least she had the sense to keep her distance. His tiny feline brain wasn’t the best for problem solving, but shifting back would require dealing with her, and he wasn’t quite ready for that.

He would drive her to Inverness tomorrow, get her a room, and leave her there to shift for herself. He certainly owed her no more than that and probably much less. If not for him, after all, she’d be dead and gone.

Oh, bloody hell.

He’d forgotten all about the film rights. If he turned her out now, he’d never get his money. Then, he’d lose Glenarvon, the last vestige of his human life. Under no circumstances could he let that happen.

Let’s see now. It was Friday night. The soonest she could request the contracts would be Monday. That gave him two days to nip his feelings in the bud. Two days to avoid her and two nights to ache for her. And he would. Because he ached for her already. Damn her and her feminine wiles. She’d drawn him in like a siren draws a sailor and now both of them would drown.

“Do you hate me now?” Her voice was meek and frail.

“If only I did.”

“Are you angry?”

“No, lass. I’m disappointed. How can I trust you if you openly defy me?”

“I didn’t mean to defy you, it’s just that, well, I really wanted to kiss you.”

“I set rules and boundaries for a reason.” He did his best to sound stern. “I expect them to be respected. Now you’ve endangered us both.”

She swallowed hard enough for him to hear. “Are you going to punish me?”

There was his answer. She had done the one thing he’d asked her not to and now it seemed only fair that he should reciprocate. If he beat her, she would hate him and stay the hell away from him for the next few days. After the contracts were signed, she would go and that would be the end of it. His feelings wouldn’t grow if she didn’t encourage them.

“You’ve made it necessary,” he said. “You did the one thing I asked you not to, and now I must do the same.”

He shifted back into his human form and raked his fingers through his hair. He’d punished plenty of subs before without the slightest qualms. He wasn’t naturally cruel. Being forced to harden his heart had made him that way.

“You’re g-going to s-strike me?” Her lower lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears.

Steeling himself against her heart-wrenching expression, he said, “Among other things.”

He went to the wardrobe, took out his breeches and pulled them on. He then went to the wall of toys and selected a buggy whip. As he stepped toward her out of the shadows, he cracked the whip.

Her eyes widened, her back stiffened, and her face went as white as milk. Good, she was scared. Fear would soon drive away any fondness she might harbor for him.

As he stepped toward her, he cracked the whip again. She scrambled off the chaise and around to the opposite side. Excellent. She looked positively petrified.

Staring her down, he slapped the whip against his leg. “You’ve been a very naughty wee mouse.”

“You w-wouldn’t d-dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” He gave her his wickedest grin. “Look around you. Did you think your insolence wouldn’t cost you?”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, nearly undoing him. Hardening his heart, he stepped around the chaise. When he tried to grab her, she bolted. He stayed put, watching to see where she’d go. She scurried into the shadows he’d just stepped out of. The wardrobe creaked open and, a few moments later, thumped shut. Tightening his grip on the whip handle, he stalked her to her hiding place.

* * * *

Gwyn, heart pounding, pressed her eye to the keyhole. He was right outside and still had that fucking whip in his hand. The determined look in his eye told her he wasn’t bluffing.

Her mind jumped back to that awful night her stepmother dragged her out of bed and wailed on her with her father’s belt. The beating seemed to go on forever, and she could do nothing to stop it. All she could do was cover her face and sob. She didn’t remember the pain, only the harrowing feeling of helplessness.

She’d vowed never to let anybody belittle her like that again. And now, here she was, hiding in a wardrobe from a man with a whip. He was standing just outside, tapping the damn thing against his hand. She couldn’t believe he could be so cruel. Yes, she’d kissed him after he’d told her not to, but lashing her for it seemed a bit extreme.

“Come out, Miss Morland,” he said, “so we can get on with it.”

She couldn’t get past him and, even if she could, she’d never find her way through the dark to the stairs. What had she been thinking coming down her with him? She should have been more cautious, should have listened to that tiny, fearful voice inside.

“Can’t I just apologize?”

She bit her lip to stop the trembling. He wasn’t answering. Was he considering her offer? Please, let that be the case. She’d apologize, he’d put the whip away, and that would be that.

“Come out, Miss Morland. Or I shall open the door myself and drag you out by the hair.”

Her insides frosted over. She had no doubt he would back up his threat. At the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to open the door.

The man had a whip, after all, and clearly intended to use the damn thing on her.

“I’m not coming out until you promise not to whip me. ”

He dragged a hand down his face and licked his lips. His mouth looked ugly to her now. She couldn’t believe she’d ever wanted to kiss him.

“I’ll tell you what.” He tapped the whip against his open palm. “If you come out of your own volition, I’ll only put you over my knee.”

“You won’t whip me?”

“No, I’ll only spank you.”

“With what?”

“Just my bare hand.”

She took a breath and swiped at her tears. As much as she loathed the idea of a spanking, it was preferable to a whipping. “Fine. But not too hard.”

“I’ll decide the severity, Miss Morland, not you. Now come out of there before I change my mind.”

Eye to the keyhole, she said, “I’m not budging until you put down that fucking whip.”

With a smirk she’d love to slap off his face, he tossed the whip away. Damn him. Now she had no choice but to keep her end of the bargain.

With a racing pulse and no air in her lungs, she pushed open the door, which seemed to swing in slow motion. The squeal of the hinges set her teeth on edge. Clamping her jaw, she climbed out amidst a tangle of skirts.

He held out the hand in which he’d held the whip. “Come, my wee mouse, and take your licks.”

Insides curdling, she slapped the hand away with an indignant huff. He looked hurt by the gesture. Good. Let him know how it felt to be treated like dirt. Sucking in a bracing breath, she held her head high, and followed him out of the shadows. When they were almost to the chaise, he spun around and held up his hand.

“Wait here.”

As much as she burned to ask why, she couldn’t seem to find her words. Scenes from the
Sleeping Beauty
books raced through her mind. She shuddered at the thought of being trussed up like a turkey and forced to eat from a trough. He wouldn’t dare, would he? A fine sweat broke out across her skin.