Sinful (6 page)

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Authors: Carolyn Faulkner

BOOK: Sinful
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He was definitely that man.

Each time his fingers returned to the entrance to her body, he found her wetter than before. “My, my, Lita, what do we have here? You scream ‘no’ when I punish you, but your body has other ideas, doesn’t it?”

Her response was swift and almost feral. “NO!”

“You can’t deny it, honey. This is what you were made for. I don’t want to keep you barefoot and pregnant; I want to keep you bare naked and in bed, or over my lap for some bit of mischief, and it’s what your body craves, too.”

His fingers, which had roamed upwards to that spot that only he seemed to know about on her body, distracted her mightily, but she repeated, “No!” again, with much less conviction, almost as an afterthought.

“Yes,” he countermanded, stroking her furiously, watching for every way her body betrayed her, siding with him in this argument on a primal, primitive level. Her pupils were huge, she was panting, and he could feel her muscles tightening, readying themselves for the final culmination, as he mercilessly worried that little scrap of flesh.

“Brandt?” Her voice was reedy.

“Yes, baby?”

“What’s happening to me? I’m scared.”

The words ‘epic fail’ went through his mind, and he realized that he should have explained what was going to happen before he began to hurtle her towards something she had no experience with. He immediately gathered her into his arms, holding her tight against him, rocking just slightly. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry, I’m such a dolt.”

She was flabbergasted. No man she’d ever known would have admitted something like that to a woman, much less said he was sorry to her for something she assumed he hadn’t done on purpose.

“I should have explained. Remember when we were making love, just before I fell on top of you?”

“I think so.” She didn’t know what this had to do with her, but she was willing to play along.

“Well, I got all tense, and I probably screamed or yelled or howled or something just a few seconds before?”

Lita nodded. “I figured you’d gotten a cramp or something.”

His smile cut through his face, lightening its natural darkness, and she knew he was laughing at her, but he wasn’t doing it out loud, and she knew he wasn’t trying to make her feel like an idiot. “It’s definitely not a cramp, because cramps hurt like hell. It’s... it’s the ultimate pleasure. It’s ecstasy. It’s better than any dessert you could imagine, better than... better than anything. It’s pure, unadulterated pleasure, and it will probably happen for me pretty much any time we make love, but for a woman, it’s a bit different – not as easy to achieve, sometimes.

“But you’re special, Lita. You’re... well, despite your upbringing and all you’ve had to overcome about that to find yourself here, naked in my arms after I’ve made love to you, your body finds everything I’ve done to it so far to be very wonderful – even the spankings, although I know you don’t believe it – and there’s an end to it. It’s an orgasm, and it’s different from anything you’ve experienced before. It’s a bit nervous making this first time, I imagine, but it doesn’t hurt, I promise you. In fact, just the exact opposite. It’s... well, I can’t really describe it to you. You’re just going to have to trust me that this build up isn’t all there is, and I won’t stop until I know you’ve cum.”

“Come?”

“Cum. C-u-m. Had an orgasm.”

“How will you know?”

He was grinning broadly again. “I have a feeling you’ll tell me in your own way.” Brandt brushed her hair away from her shoulders and said, “Trust me on this, please, and try to relax, although I know it’s hard. There’s a reward at the end like you cannot believe, I promise.”

And he was nothing if not right. They resumed their former positions, and a few minutes later, her head began to thrash back and forth on the pillow. Brandt whispered soft encouragement, but didn’t let up the pressure of the way his fingers were swirling around her clit, dipping down occasionally to get a bit slicker, but always returning right back to that same point.

Just before her body began contracting, she begged him to stop, but he had a feeling she was very close and he ignored her for just long enough to send her into orbit.

And she did let him know by bucking and writhing and holding onto him for dear life, looking as if she was being torn apart from within by the agonizing throes of ecstasy. He held her throughout, trying to provide what support he could, noticing that there was a tear trailing down from the corner of her closed eye that alarmed him a bit, but when he would have leaned over to get her a tissue she clutched at him, and he used the side of his thumb instead.

After a long, long while, she opened her eyes and asked, “Is that what it’s supposed to be like?”

Brandt sat back amongst the pillows and held her to his side. “If the chemistry is right between a man and a woman, yes.”

“I had no idea. Absolutely none! And I was a married woman!”

“Well, I imagine they don’t want you to miss what you were probably never going to have. An orgasm is something that’s almost always going to happen for a man, but it’s optional for a woman. There’s more effort involved in getting you there, that a lot of men aren’t interested in putting in, for which I think they ought to be horsewhipped. But that’s just my opinion.”

She was nodding along in agreement with him, which he found surprising and encouraging.

“And you know you can have more of them any time you like – a man has to wait a while between them, but not a woman. You can have an infinite number of them.”

She shuddered. “Gee, I think I’d die if I had more than one at a time.”

He chuckled. “We’ll revisit that when this is all less new to you. I bet I can prove you wrong.”

Dinner was much later than originally planned, but that was fine with them because they had the dining room largely to themselves and the staff danced attendance on them. Brandt insisted they have everything – soup to nuts – since they were vacationing. He certainly couldn’t afford to do this for her very often, but he’d eek it out as often as he could, knowing that she had had very little in the way of spoiling while she was growing up.

And he didn’t want to spoil her, exactly, although he did want to treat her sometimes, and he knew that she had developed a love of restaurants. So they started with a half a loaf of onion strings, which could be dipped in the house homemade barbeque sauce, then she had a cup of French onion soup that – nonetheless – came in a small crock while he enjoyed a southwestern chicken chili. The house salads were fresh and crisp, and served with a sweetly tart Italian dressing that was out of this world. They had each ordered steak – a bacon wrapped filet for her and a porterhouse for him – both of which were melt in your mouth delicious.

They finished it off with not the usual one dessert they split when they went out at home, but two separate desserts. Hers was an over generous apple crisp that was served in another type of crock, complete with melting vanilla ice cream and whipped cream, and his was a slice of turtle cake, which was milk chocolate cake that was dripping caramel and roasted pecans. Of course, they traded bites, and neither of them could come anywhere near close to finishing what they’d ordered – either the main meal or the dessert. But that was the advantage of staying at the hotel where they were eating. They just brought an enormous doggy bag back to their room to have for later that could be reheated in the little kitchenette.

And that came in handy later, when he’d made love to her again. He pretty much found himself unable to keep his hands off of her, and he’d stripped her the moment they’d gotten back into the room, so the scene had been set.

She was still very shy about being naked, but he insisted that she not try to hide behind anything, refusing to allow her to dive under the covers once he determined that she wasn’t cold or that there wasn’t another reason why she needed to have the covers up by her chin.

“I think I’ll keep you naked for the rest of the weekend, Lita,” he mused as he watched her eyes while he took her.

“What – what – about – dinner?” she asked, barely able to speak at the thought.

“That’s what room service is for, sweetie.”

 

Chapter 6

 

And he did – largely. Oh, he made the occasional exception, but most of the time for the next thirty-six hours or so – which was much too short as far as he was concerned – she was buck-naked and he was wearing a big, satisfied grin.

She also sported a very red bottom, finding herself getting spanked more often than not. Brandt was proving to be even stricter than her father in some ways – well, in the ways that mattered to him. But he was at least as much of a stickler for obedience as Father had been; although the things he asked her to do – some of them just mortified her. She did them – sometimes only after considerable persuasion – but she did eventually comply, doing things that she had never even dreamed existed, and having much the same type of things done to her.

And, to her complete mortification, enjoying every minute of it, in every case.

Brandt considered the weekend a rousing success – he thought it had gone much better even than he’d hoped, because he’d been able to introduce Lita to two elements that were vital to a relationship, as far as he was concerned – discipline and sex, and she’d taken to both with flying colors, although he knew she wouldn’t necessarily agree with him about the discipline part.

He knew how big a milestone this weekend was for them, but he wasn’t sure that Lita recognized it as such. He hadn’t wanted to scare her off, so they hadn’t talked about a more long-term situation – and she certainly wasn’t going to bring it up – but he knew that that was where he wanted to go with her. How she felt – well, he was much less sure about that.

He tried to pump Marielle for information, but, as usual, she was being notoriously uncooperative. Her advice to him was the novel idea of actually talking to Lita, but, just in case she wasn’t thinking along the same lines as he was, he didn’t know if he could bear the idea that she might not
want
to get more serious with him.

So he festered, and he stewed, and he worried, and he made love to her as often as he could. And one night, he finally worked up the nerve to talk to her about it, when it was very late at night – actually very early the next morning – while they were lying, cuddled together after a long night of loving. She was curled up against his side, as she loved to be and he loved her to be, one of his arms plastering her to him, the other absently playing with her hair. “Lita?”

She was almost asleep. She’d discovered a love of cuddling, and most often – when they were together – fell asleep in his arms. “Yes?”

“What would you say if I told you that I want you to move in with me? That I can see this relationship of ours becoming very serious?”

Since her apartment was so small, they always ended up at his place. Plus, he was going through the police academy and riding along with older officers and his shifts weren’t as predictable as hers, so she worked around his schedule as much as possible.

She was silent, and Brandt thought that wasn’t a very good sign.

It wasn’t that Lita hadn’t dreamt about this moment, played it out in her mind a thousand different ways, knowing that the response her heart wanted to give him was an immediate, resounding “Yes!” It was her mind that was holding her back.

She hadn’t been out from under the influence of her parents and their church for that long, really, and she wasn’t at all sure that this was the best time to become seriously involved with anyone – even if she thought she was falling in love with him. Love wasn’t really something she’d been taught to consider when evaluating a future mate – would he uphold the religious principles she believed in? Could he support as large a family as God saw fit to give them? And would her father approve? In the end, she had known that the choice was out of her hands, anyway, and now that it was her turn to choose, Lita didn’t know that she trusted herself – yet – to make the right decision.

To say nothing of the fact that it would be trading one form of submission for another. Brandt had made it clear over the past few months that they had been intimate that he expected to be where the buck stopped with them. He hadn’t espoused religious reasons for it, but rather admitted that that was just what he preferred in a relationship.

And he certainly did believe in spanking his woman, as she had quickly found out. That extravagant weekend of her birthday was only the beginning. She couldn’t even begin to count the number of times she’d been over his knee, over the tailgate of his truck, bent over the end of the bed or simply spanked while she was standing there, trying to do the dishes or folding the laundry. He chastised her physically whenever he felt she needed it, and that was apparently quite a bit.

She wasn’t as much concerned with the physical punishment – although she supposed she should be, but it was something she was accustomed to – although the fact that it was him spanking her sure put a different twist on it. Her concern was more that – having fought so hard to gain her freedom and independence from a male dominated society – if she said “yes” to him, he was going to expect her to submit to him.

She knew that that was where the comparisons stopped between the two. Brandt was an incredible cheerleader in regards to anything she wanted to do to better herself, or even just enjoyed doing, and he didn’t try to tell her that her only purpose in life was to bear children and keep a nice home for her husband, who was the breadwinner. He encouraged her in her studies – even set aside a time every night – whether they were together or not – when they both did nothing but study or work on papers or whatever they needed to do for their various classes, and he was nothing if not over the top proud of her when she brought home two A’s last semester. Heck, he’d even been proud of her when she’d gotten a C in a math class, because he knew how hard math was for her, and that she’d worked her butt off to do that well.

Had she sown enough wild oats? How much was enough time to make up for decades of oppression? If she turned him down, would she be throwing away the best thing that would ever come along for her?

In some ways, the society she’d been brought up in was a lot easier to live in. There weren’t so many hard decisions to make. If your father wasn’t making them for you, as a daughter, then the husband he’d handpicked was.

But this decision – whatever it was and however it turned out – would be on her entirely, and she didn’t want to screw it up.

And, with all her heart, she didn’t want to lose Brandt.

It was dark, and she couldn’t see his face as he said, “I take it you haven’t thought about it at all, or that you have and you’re trying to figure out a way to let me down easy.” His tone was carefully neutral, as if he was trying to let her know that there would be no recriminations regardless of what she decided.

“No. No, that’s not it,” she sighed, trying to sit up, but he wouldn’t release her from his side. “I just—”

“Tell me this, are you happy with me when we’re together?”

“Oh yes, I am!” she replied unreservedly.

“Even though you get spanked?”

He could feel her reluctance and realized that wasn’t really a fair question, but he was interested in her answer. “Yes.”


Because
you get spanked?” he asked, giving voice to something he’d wondered whether she realized about herself.

“No! Definitely not.”

“So you’d be just as happy if I, as your boyfriend, as your male authority, let you run around willy-nilly, staying up until all hours, never studying, eating badly, etc?”

“Definitely!”

He hauled her onto him, catching both of her legs between his. She couldn’t move until he decided to allow it, and he liked that. Brandt laced his fingers at the small of her back, holding their intimate body parts together as his began to swell predictably. “You wouldn’t be fibbing to me, now would you, Miss Lita?”

That low, rough tone – those words – they sent a sizzle she didn’t even want to acknowledge up her spine, and she knew that he knew it. And although she’d sworn to herself to never admit it, she didn’t think that vow was going to last past tonight, if he had anything to say about it.

And he had
everything
to say about it.

“You know I want to marry you, Lita.”

Her head came up from where it had been resting on his chest. He’d said it so casually, as if she should have guessed it. But her reading of current society was that people didn’t much go in for the formalities and legalities, and definitely not for the commitment to each other before God.

Brandt reached for the soft light above him and turned it on its lowest setting so that he could see her eyes while he spoke, and she could see the absolute sincerity in his. “You didn’t know.”

“I— no, well, I didn’t want to assume anything. I don’t know what to think about you, Brandt. You have me going in twelve different directions at once – my head is fighting with my heart and it’s got me all frazzled. I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you want to do, deep down, in here?” He touched her breastbone.

“To be with you.”

“Always?’

Without a second’s hesitation, Lita nodded vehemently. “Yes. Always.”

“Well, we can arrange that.” He leaned up at the same time he used his hold on her long tresses to pull her down for his kiss. As he released her and sank back down onto the bed, he said, “You realize, though, that I’m not going to change. That I will always spank you when I think you need it, and I think that you need it quite often, as you might have noticed – partly because of your upbringing – that it makes you feel loved and paid attention to. And Lord knows I love doing it. So things are going to get even stricter when we live together and, eventually, get married.”

She was looking hesitant and biting her lip, as if she was going to say no to him because of what he’d just reminded her of, so he reached down to cup her buttocks and drag her upwards a bit, so that her tummy was at the bottom of his chest, then he pulled her legs apart, forcing her to straddle him. And as he watched her – as she found herself trapped and held by those dark eyes – he slowly lowered her down onto his full blown erection, watching avidly as her eyes rolled back in her head a bit, and she tried to arch away from that invader, but he had a hold of her hips, keeping her in place for his possession, feeling her full body shudder when she finally hit the root of him, fully swollen as he was within her.

When he did things like this to her – and he did them more often than she would ever have considered right years ago – every sane thought left her head. There was nothing there but him – his big presence within her conquered every bit of her, driving out doubt and worry and conscious thought.

She would never get over the feeling of how he stretched her. Never. It blew her mind every single time, especially when he took control of her like this. She didn’t know if she was permanently broken because of her upbringing or he had turned her into a submissive sex maniac, but she craved this. She missed him terribly when he went away for training – the discipline at least as much as the sex, not that she would ever confess that to him, but then, he already seemed to guess it about her.

Damn him for being so right all the time!

The fact that he took the time to discipline her did make her feel safer, more protected than she had since she was a kid, and the stricter he was with her, the safer she felt.

God help her.

She wanted him. She loved him, and every bit of what he did to her and for her. And if he asked her to marry him tonight, she knew there was no way she would be able to turn him down.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he fucked her, hard, giving her no choice but to follow the directions of his hands as they clasped her hips, making her bounce up and down on him, withdrawing all the way only to plunge back down with his help, forcing her down hard onto him, not allowing her to shy away from it in the least, rolling them both over at one point and fucking her hard and fast and powerfully, until he could do nothing but scream and empty himself within her.

Brandt and his friends had her moved in by the next weekend. All Lita had to do was decide what she was going to take and what needed to go into storage, and pack boxes. The guys did the rest in record time, and they were provided with all the pizza and beer they could eat in repayment for the help.

And he was right. Things did change when they began to spend more time together.

They got even better.

They began to talk even more than they had. She began to teach him some of the things she was learning in a creative writing class she was taking, showing him some of her work and listening to his critiques, which were always sound and insightful. And he began to teach her some of the self-defense things he was learning in the academy, even to the point of bringing her into the gym to show her how to hit. She was okay, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it, although she did her best. Still, he insisted she learn ways to defend herself, just in case.

The more he got to know her, the more one thing in particular stood out to him about her. She almost never fought with him. They pretty much never had even any kind of just a spat, and certainly none of the big blowouts he’d experienced with his previous romantic interests. He knew she’d been trained to turn away from anger, but he had no idea how deeply it ran.

One day, he semi-consciously set out to provoke her, just to see what she did. He didn’t subscribe to the ‘negative emotions are bad’ philosophy at all, and was in favor of getting them out, if possible, preferably in small doses. He didn’t want to create a rage monster, but he did want her to know that it was okay to cry or feel down or even very angry. He’d been wondering just how far he could push her, and he chose the day he’d spent at the academy learning takedown techniques, some of which involved handcuffs.

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