Punished by My Neighbor 4-Book Box Set (7 page)

Bren must have let the other two men return to the car without him, because no sooner had I closed my eyes, enjoying the delicious icy drip trailing between my breasts down to my belly than his deep voice was taunting me right at my ear, ‘I know a better way to cool off.”

My eyes opened lazily and I challenged him, “I’d think you’re better at heating things up.”

He grazed a hand over my hip and then to the waist band of my jeans. One handed, he undid the button, his other hand cupped around my chin, keeping his eyes locked steadily on my own. My breath quickened and my pulse hammered between my legs.

Then he let his fingers trace down my neck and between my breasts, leaving a trail of electricity in his wake. His hands joined one another at my pelvis and undid my jeans zipper. “Your friends,” I said in weak protest, but he shushed me and then covered my mouth with his own. His kiss was tender at first, a little hesitant, but that quickly changed. Soon his mouth was pressing hard against my own, his tongue demanding entry as he deepened the kiss. He smelled clean and musky, still fresh from the shower but a little bit sweaty, and pulsing with desire. He slammed me against the counter top and the edge bit into my back.

I moaned and fumbled the ice cube against his belly as I tried to peel up his shirt. He growled, deep in the back of his throat and nipped my lip sharply. He pulled away and looked down at me with disapproval, but didn’t explain why.

My heart thundered in my chest. With a dismissive flick of his wrist, he sent my jeans down around my knees. He traced a thumb along the red lace of my panties before shimmying them down to join my jeans. Then he grabbed the ice cube from me, his gaze furious and electric.

And before I even knew what was happening, he had taken that ice cube and shoved it into my wet pussy.

Holy shit did it hurt. And I wished he could do it again with the same intensity of the surprise. The ice melted a trail of water down my inner thigh and he pulled up my panties and my jeans. Then, he leaned close to my ear and whispered, “If you know what’s good for you,” he pulled the zipper closed, securing my pants. My pussy clenched around the frozen intruder, desperately wanting to expel it even as I wanted him to cram me full of ice. “You’ll stay here and keep that inside of you until I come back for it.”

I nodded, utterly unable to speak, as he stalked away.

The boys didn’t come back up with any more boxes. And I waited. And waited. The ice inside my pussy melted a large wet spot at the front of my jeans and I couldn’t feel it inside myself anymore. I wasn’t sure whether I should go down and check on them, or wait here. Bren hadn’t told me to stay put.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed that I had a text. “Isn’t it time for a new ice cube yet?” The text from an unknown caller read and I wondered how on earth he already had my number.

I pulled a new cube from the freezer, dropped my pants enough and shoved it in, the delicious chill biting my tender, sensitive tunnel. I was about to pull my pants back up when there was a knock. At the
open
door, I realized as I turned, my jeans and panties still down around my knees.

The pizza delivery woman stood in the open doorway, mouth slightly agape. Her red hair was messy beneath a branded baseball cap, and her olive skin clashed with the orange uniform. She cleared her throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

I shrugged. “Shouldn’t have left the door open, I guess.”

“I’m glad you did, though,” she said, her voice steadily gaining confidence. “It was so hot watching. Does it hurt, though?”

“It’s a good pain.”

She swallowed as I stepped closer, her gaze locked on my wet crotch. “I think I’ll try it when I get home.”

“You should,” I said, my voice noncommittal.

She licked her full ruby red lips. “Is that an order?”

A delicious thrill raced through me at the thought of telling this beautiful woman what to do and having her under my control. I laughed and smoothed my ebony fingers over my thighs, deciding to play along. “It is. Now, be a good girl and write your phone number on the pizza box. When I text you later, I expect you to send me a photo proving you’ve followed orders.”

As soon as the pizza delivery woman left, the boys came back in with another load of boxes. “I’ve never gotten a woman that wet before,” Ruff said, his eyes greedy on the v between my legs. “The power of three at work.”

Elliot put his box down first, and then ran a free hand through his hair. His arms were covered in fine, dark hair that made a beautiful contrast to his fair skin. I thought about what a beautiful contrast my own dark skin would make against his milky whiteness. “She’s not ready for the power of three just yet, Ruff. Cool your jets.”

I could feel three pairs of eyes boring into me, undressing me, and it was all I could do not to oblige them by stripping down naked so they could properly devour me.

“I am,” I breathed, so full to the brim with wanting and so relieved it didn't sound like they had any intention of making me choose between them.

Ruff laughed. “And who are we to deny a woman who knows her own mind, fellas?”

Bren grabbed Ruff’s arm and kept him from advancing on me. “You know the rules,” he said so low I wasn’t sure I’d properly heard him and my curiosity was definitely piqued.

“Screw the rules,” Ruff growled in response, but he didn’t try to get escape Bren's firm grip.

“One more load,” Bren said. “You’re going to need another ice cube.”

I swallowed back my protest, knowing it would fall on deaf ears. And besides, I was almost too busy wondering about these rules to worry about how much a third ice cube would hurt.

They left the door wide open again, and I briefly considered closing it, but didn’t. I dug out another ice cube, this time sucking it into my mouth for a moment first, enjoying the bitter cold against my tongue. Then, once my pants were slung around my knees, I drew a deep breath and coaxed the slippery ice cube between my legs. I gasped as it nestled into place and growled a deep, guttural protest at the pain, but then, like the obedient neighbor I was turning into, I pulled my pants back up, the wet spot now growing to cover most of my inner thighs.

My phone buzzed with a text and this time it was a photo. The pizza delivery woman’s dark olive thighs, her shaved pussy, and the ice cube between her legs peeking out between her fingers. “It's a good pain,” she added.

Ebony-haired Elliot returned to my apartment alone, laden down with boxes. He slammed the door closed behind himself and I made a noise of protest. “You’ll see them tomorrow,” he said, his dark eyes locked steady on me. “What Bren said, before, about the rules.” His voice dropped so low and seductive it chased a thrill up my spine. “You’re curious, aren’t you?”

I nodded mutely as nimble fingers undid the buttons of his uniform shirt.

“Strip first. It goes better when you’re naked.”

“Goes better?” I stammered, finding my voice at last.

He stepped closer to me, the scent of leather and tobacco smoke heavy on his skin. He wrenched my t-shirt up over my head and roughly shimmied me free of my jeans with warm fingers. Then he stepped back to admire me for a moment, brushing one fingertip over the curve of my bra-clad breast. He pulled me tight against him with one arm and unhooked my bra with the other hand, letting my breasts spill against him. Electricity surged through me at the feel of his bare skin on mine and before my nerve endings calmed, he had me out of my panties and he’d spun me away from him so he could enjoy my ass.

He pulled my back snug against his chest, and began to nuzzle my neck. “Bella, bella,” he cooed, in that same thick Italian accent. He used one palm to hold me firmly against him and the other traced lazily around one mocha nipple. I could feel his arousal building and it took every ounce of self control to hold still and let him lead the way because all I wanted was him, hard and fast and now.

His fingers tired of my nipple and traced slow, languid circles down my belly, lower and lower until they found that sensitive trail from my belly button down. And still they went lower, and still he held me tighter against him, his need for me unmistakable against my ass.

His fingers cupped against my pussy, gently teasing my labia for a moment as if to get me used to his large, warm hands on me in such an intimate way. Then, those same fingers became more insistent, plundering deeper for my clit, working slow soft circles around it. I moaned from the pleasure warming my body.

His fingers became more insistent, drawing harder, faster circles around that most sensitive spot. And then his fingers were right on my clit, drumming against me a frenzied desire, so intense it almost hurt.

I pressed my shoulders hard against his chest, feeling his muscles strong and supportive behind me and he again shifted his fingers, now entering me and curling inside of me, groping for that tender, sensitive spongy place. Two fingers inside me, curling around me, drawing me deeper into the typhoon of pleasure he was calling forth in me. Then he sunk another finger inside me and continued the motion. I felt myself begin to stretch and welcome him deeper. And then he sank another finger inside of me and I groaned, right at the edge of explosion.

“Four fingers,” he whispered before nipping my earlobe sending fresh shock waves through me. “Maybe you are ready for one of us.”

“But not all three of you?” I murmured vaguely, already mostly somewhere else as pleasure began to envelop me.

He murmured something against my ear and then his pace quickened and his fingers became insistent and furious as they pressed hard against that spongy g-spot so deep inside me. My knees went weak. The world exploded. And still he held me firmly, his fingers still so deep inside me. I spasmed sharply around those fingers. He gasped, and his breath slammed hard against my ear. “Bella,” he cooed. “Bella, bella.”

The next morning, Ruff barged into my apartment without knocking. I vaguely wondered how he’d gotten a key since I knew I'd locked the door the night before, but thought it might be rude to ask. He wore his navy blue uniform again, and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of him, muscular and clean cut and demanding.

I was frying eggs for breakfast in the kitchen and offered to make him some. He held a gift bag in one hand, it was blank and completely masked its contents. I couldn’t help wondering if it was for me.

After we’d finished our breakfast, I started to wash the dishes but Ruff came up behind me and nuzzled my neck. “Later,” he said. “I have something for you.”

I turned towards him, and raised up on my tip toes to kiss him, but he pulled away, sliding his hands down my arms until he held my hands in his. He pulled me towards the coffee table where the gift bag waited. I giggled greedily, a little giddy, wondering what it might be.

He picked up the bag but didn’t give it to me, instead guiding me to the bathroom. Once inside the cramped space, he gestured to the edge of the claw foot tub. “Take off your robe and sit.”

I looked down at the silky kimono I was wearing. “But I’m...” I paused, suddenly shy. “I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

He quirked a copper-colored eyebrow and when he spoke again his voice was firmer. “Take off your robe and sit.”

I slid the silky kimono off and let it fall in a heap at my feet before perching on the claw foot tub. His eyes raked roughly over my curves, paying particular attention to my breasts. He licked his lips, deliberately and I let out a little breath, trying to keep myself under control. He returned his attention to his bag, pulling things from it--first a bar of soap, a small wooden bowl, then several little jars of something, a big bristly round brush and a straight edge razor. I gasped as he drew the blade from the bag.

“Hush now,” he said harshly. “A woman who doesn’t keep her garden properly tended must be prepared for someone else to do it for her.”

I shuddered. Somehow though his words had been delicate, the sentiment was anything but and the thought of that blade going anywhere near my
garden
terrified me.

“Now, spread your legs.” His voice was matter-of-fact as if he were taking no pleasure in having me naked, on the edge of the tub, waiting for him to shave my pussy.

He ran the tap and moistened the brush attentively. Then, slowly, he pounded the brush against the bar of soap, working up a mountain of white froth. He swirling the foam into the bowl, whipping it until it thickened. I watched his freckled hands as he worked, nimble and precise.

Ruff returned his attention to me. “Spread your legs,” he commanded, running long fingers up and down his thigh. I obeyed and he began to lather me with the shaving cream. His fingertips were gentle, caressing me tenderly and it didn’t take long before I was yearning for him to touch me more deeply. I moaned softly and shifted against his fingertips. He looked at me sharply and his eyes narrowed but he didn't speak. It was enough to reprimand me, especially given what was about to happen next.

He picked up the razor and he ran it along a leather strap, humming softly to himself. Then he approached my soft thatch of hair slowly and I drew in a sharp breath. “Hold still,” he cautioned. “I wouldn’t want to nick you in such a delicate area.”

A chill crept down my spine as he cupped my sensitive flesh and pulled tight for better access with the blade. He drew the blade over my skin, a slow gentle scrape with his firm, confident hand.

“That’s a good girl,” he said softly. He manipulated my labia this way and that to get the best access possible to every last curly dark hair. I held my breath as he inched the razor around my most delicate tender bits. When my pussy was bald, , he took a wet wash cloth and cleaned me, slowly, deliberately, and my pulse thudded beneath his touch.

Once every trace of shaving cream had been washed clean, I thought he’d be finished, but instead he turned to one of the jars and spilled some of the rose-scented liquid into his palms. “This is going to sting,” he said, his voice thick with desire.

“You enjoy hurting me.” I said, and though my words sounded accusatory, my tone was deep and seductive.

He licked his full lips and met my eye. “I do.” He covered my pussy with his palms, the rose-scented liquid burning my freshly-shaved flesh. He massaged me with his fingertips, his thumbs rubbing deeper against the places that ached with desire for him. I sucked in a hiss of a breath against the pain and his beautiful lips curled into a smile of satisfaction. Finished with me, he stood and gathered up his supplies. “Be ready for us in two hours,” he said before leaving me sitting, naked, on the edge of the tub, the thrum of frustration pounding deep in my belly.