“Jesus, you scared the hell out of me.”
Brandon stood leaning against the door; she hadn’t heard him open or close it, and made a mental note to not play her music so loud. He just stood there staring, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyelids were slightly lowered, his thick lips slightly open, she thought he might be drunk. She turned the speaker down and watched him warily.
“Why weren’t you at dinner?” His voice was low and controlled.
Her heart thundered and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She should have known fickle karma wouldn’t wait for morning. “There are things I have to tell you… about the past. I needed time to think about how…”
Brandon moved before she could even blink, hauling her against his chest. He kissed her, his tongue delved deep, swirling against hers. He tasted of warm honey and lime. His hands were everywhere, firm and insistent. Her fingers pulled at his hair as if she wanted him to stop, but her mouth moved against his, and her moan was deep and long. He picked her up and carried her to the bed as his mouth still plundered hers. She felt him pulling at his belt buckle and he muttered against her lips.
“I don’t care, Beatrice. None of it matters. I only care about right now.”
He turned her briskly and tossed her face down on the bed. He pressed one hand down on the small of her back and she shivered at the sound of his belt hissing through the loops. The first lick landed directly across her cheeks and sent a jolt of lightning through her, the sting both horrible and incredibly satisfying. She kicked and screamed into the bedding as the second stroke burned across the backs of her thighs. This was nothing like the light spanking of the morning before. This was unexpected and real, exciting and a bit frightening. Bea squirmed in pain and passion, trying desperately to hear his tirade, words coming as quick and sharp as the belt.
“One second you’re a childish brat, the next a seductress. I don’t know what to do with you, but you will learn to treat me with a little more respect.”
The belting stopped as quickly as it had begun. She felt the bed move as he climbed onto the mattress behind her. He pulled her panties off and the air rushing over the raw skin made her gasp. The few swats he had given her had left raised welts across her thighs and ass. He ran his fingers over the texture he had created. She could have sworn she heard him moan when she whimpered. He stroked her thighs with the rough palms of his hands and the gentle friction stung, making her arch and groan. Bea trembled and squirmed, her face flaming as his fingers slipped in the wetness between her thighs. He made another noise deep in his chest and bent down to press his lips against one burning cheek and then the other.
He kissed up her spine until he reached the back of her neck and then turned her over beneath him. The blanket was like sandpaper on her tender flesh, a sharp contrast to his gentle touch. He kissed at the tears on her face and then nibbled at her lips. She wrapped her leg around his thigh and gasped when he reached behind to knead at the fire on her ass and thighs.
“Please,” she whispered, pulling at his jeans. He pinned her hands above her head and kissed her deeply. Brandon yanked at his pants with his free hand and maneuvered between her legs.
His voice was raspy and low, his eyes held hers. “Say it, Bea.”
The past and the present crossed each other like a double exposure photograph in her mind. She arched against him and tossed her head. “Please, Brandon, yes. I want you.”
His eyes never left hers as he pushed into her with a barely contained growl. She arched against him as he plunged. She was so slick with her arousal his thick cock filled her easily. Her pussy stretched around his girth and she felt him so deeply she nearly wept. The intensity was almost more than she could take and she closed her eyes.
“Look at me,” he growled.
Her eyes snapped open and she gasped at the ferocious look of ownership and lust written all over his face. He held the small of her back with one hand and her wrists with the other as he stroked into her. His thickness stretched her to her limits and Bea wrapped her legs around his thighs, opening herself to better accommodate his girth. Every stroke of his cock rubbed against her clit in maddening slow motion. She writhed and moaned beneath him trying desperately to ease the tension building in her belly. Moving slowly and deliberately, he held her eyes with his in a delicious torment. His pace increased and she struggled in his grasp, wanting to claw in ecstasy at his back and shoulders but he held her tight. Smiling down at her he thrust harder and she moaned loudly at how deeply he was inside of her. She tossed her head and bounced her hips begging incoherently as her pussy clenched against him in orgasm, soaking his thighs in her juices.
Lifting her ass for a better angle he made a deep humming noise and picked up his rhythm. Bea trembled, crying out in surprise at the tingling insistence of her clit and locked her legs tightly around him as she came again. Brandon grunted and buried himself deep. His hands tightened on her wrists as he jerked into her, filling her with rush after rush of warm cum. He let go of her wrists and lay his forehead against hers, holding himself above her on his elbows. When he looked back down at her, his smile made her belly tremble. Kissing her nose he rolled away from her.
Brandon pulled her onto her stomach and ran his fingers over her bottom. “Are you okay?” She moaned and twitched her ass, nodding into the bed. He laughed and continued his slow exploration. “I think it might bruise just a little bit. Some aspirin and an ice pack will help some.”
Bea laughed and turned over. “I think I’ll be just fine, Brandon.”
“Good,” he said and kissed her again. “When I expect you for dinner I would appreciate it if you would let me know when you won’t be there.”
Her eyes widened dramatically. “Yes, Sir, I think I got your point.”
She was only slightly disappointed when he kissed her and got up to dress. She walked him to the door and melted against him when he kissed her again. As soon as the door closed she went into the bathroom and stood in the bright light twisting back and forth to see the deep red, hot pink, and slowly blooming purple across her ass and thighs. She reached back, touching, pushing at the welts, each burning spark a reminder of what just happened between them.
After drinking a tall glass of water she turned off all the lights and climbed between the cool sheets prepared to lie awake all night. She was asleep before the next thought could cross her mind, falling fast and deep into the most comfortable nothingness she had ever felt.
Bea woke with a smile on her face. She stretched and swung her legs over the bed, gasping as the sting and burn stirred her memory. She hurried into the bathroom, spinning to see her backside in the mirrors. Bea stood there in awe before finally running her fingertips gently over the tiny welts and bruises. Like a little garden blooming with red, purple, pink, and blue flowers. She slowly smiled at the odd thought then pushed her fingers into her flesh a bit just to feel the arcs of pain shoot through her.
She chose a light blue hi-low sundress speckled in tiny white flowers; the front barely came to her knees but the back kissed her ankles. She turned all about to make sure it hid the pretty bruises Brandon had marked her with. When she was satisfied no one would see them she slipped into sandals and braided her hair over her left shoulder. Bea ran down the stairs to the kitchen. She was absolutely starving. She whistled when she saw Tia dressed in the pewter skirt and a rose keyhole top. She looked adorable, and obviously felt it, hands on hips swaying from side to side.
“Yes, yes? You like it, bebita?”
“I love it.” Bea laughed and hugged her, spinning her around. “You look so sassy. Do you like it… you don’t hate me for pushing you to change?”
“You, my little tormenta, are just what we needed.” It was said quietly, firmly. Tia squeezed her hands and waved her toward coffee.
She was standing at the island with a half-eaten toasted bagel stuffed full of cream cheese and blackberry jam in one hand and a crispy slice of bacon in the other when Brandon sailed into the kitchen. He laughed right at her before twirling Tia all over the room, calling her his salsa queen. It was a bright beautiful morning but even that was dim when compared to the joy of Tia’s laughter. It was so infectious, they all succumbed and Terry came into the room giggling in amused confusion. Tia finally managed to swat Brandon away just in time for Terry to take over. Brandon made a cup of coffee and sat on a stool at the island, pulling a plate over to fill.
“Sit, Bea, enjoy your breakfast.”
His voice sent a shiver coursing through her. She smiled over at him. “Thank you, but I’m done.” She stuffed another piece of bacon off her plate into her mouth followed by the last bite of bagel.
She couldn’t help but grin at his low chuckle. Their eyes met and held. Bea pretended not to notice the raised eyebrows pass between Tia and Terry. Brandon told her he just needed a minute to eat and he would meet her in the living room. She nodded and wandered off to really look at the room she had been avoiding since they got here. At least she was going to get to do something instead of just hanging around waiting for orders like a puppet.
She shook her head at the huge leather sofa and chairs, much more conducive to an old-fashioned gentleman’s club than a home. The animal heads had to go, they were just sad; maybe there was a hunting cabin somewhere they could be moved to. The fireplace took up an entire wall, brick from floor to ceiling. She could stand upright inside it and could only imagine how much wood it would take to build a fire in there.
She smelled his woodsy cologne before she heard him and turned. Brandon was standing directly behind her, very close. He reached out and ran his fingers lightly from her shoulders to her wrists, then pulled them behind her back clasping both in one hand. He held her eyes with his as firmly as he held her wrists. Her breasts were pushed up against his sternum and her lips parted as his other hand began smoothing over one cheek. He squeezed, she gasped slightly then he continued to the other, squeezing again. The zinging rush of pain and pleasure had her staggering.
“Are you going to be a good girl today, Bea?”
She nodded, he squeezed harder, and she whimpered. Bea was flustered, could feel the flush of arousal and embarrassment staining her cheeks. She wanted to look away but couldn’t.
“I’ll be a good girl today…”
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