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Authors: Tiffany Bryan

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BOOK: Restrained and Willing
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“Anything.”

“An offer I’ll collect on—later.” He took a step back, breaking
all contact.

The frown line at the top of her slim slightly upturned nose
deepened. “Later? What? No, I—”

“No?” he asked with force and folded his arms over his
chest.

Understanding flickered in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Pierce. I
didn’t mean to tell you wh—”

“Yes. You did.”

When he didn’t say more, she gave him a worried quizzical
look.

Good.
Let her worry. Fret over when her disrespectful
outbursts would be addressed. “You can let yourself down. Keep your legs open.”

When her butt hit the floor, he noticed she spread her legs
slower, infinitely more cautious than the last time.

His dick pulsed at the delectable sight she presented. Wet.
Willing. Wide open. A hard invitation to turn down.

His dick concurred with a hard throb.

Down, little buddy. We’re far from finished with this
tight, slippery pussy.

“Close your eyes, brat. Relax,” he instructed, settling next
to her and stretching out his legs.

He made note of the slight hesitation before her lids
drooped to blot out the weariness that had drifted over her eyes.

He kissed the inside of one trim thigh, lightly nipped the
other and after brushing his lips over the abused flesh, moistened the
washcloth in the water bowl and gave it a hard twist.

Never one to miss an opportunity to excite the woman he was
with, only fair since this particular woman was exciting the hell out of him,
he took his time cleaning her. Touching. Stroking. Careful not to miss the
teeniest sensitive area. He paid particular attention to the rigid little
bundle of nerves centered in her captivating pink clit. Going so far as to pull
back the fleshy hood and make an elaborate production of cleaning the slender
shallow crevice revealed.

If the kittenish sounds she made were any indication, he was
doing a kick-ass job of it.

Finished, he dropped the cloth into the bowl, patted her dry
with the fluffy hand towel and took everything to the sink.

By the time he came back with two cold bottles of water, he
knew she was primed and ready for the next thing he’d planned for the evening.
A simple deduction considering the way she attempted not to squirm, the rosy
flush of her body and the way she clamped her legs together.

Pierce shook his head. At least her eyes remained closed.
He’d give her a point for that. “Open your eyes.”

Her eyelids flipped up.

“Hmmm. I must be getting old. Can’t recall giving you
permission to close your legs?”

Had he not been intently watching…listening, he’d have
missed the flash of a grimace and under-the-breath suffering sigh as she spread
open her thighs as far apart as physically possible. Her impish grin beamed up
at him.

Highly amusing, her attempt at amends. And that impish grin
had saved her ass from weeks of grounding when growing up. Question was, would
he let himself be suckered in like her father and brothers?

Ahhh, hell. Why not? At least this once. She was certainly a
treasure with her quick, calculating mind, above-average intelligence and sexy
body.

Normally a stickler with regard to any training schedule
he’d set, especially in the first few weeks with a new female, he decided to
give her a choice.

He handed her a bottle of water. “Up.” He offered his hand
and slowly drew her to her feet, not wanting her to get a head rush and end up
back on her butt. “Drink. When you pass out again, I don’t want it to be from
dehydration.”

Her eyes slightly narrowed before she tipped the bottle to
her lips and took several deep swallows.

Stubborn little brat. And independent to the bone. Ingrained
traits that could be curbed, but never fully eradicated. She’d provide some lucky
bastard with plenty of challenge in the years to come. Pierce viciously
squashed the disturbing thought of her under the control of another man.

“Ummm. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was. Thank you,
Pierce.” She took a couple more dainty swallows.

“You’re welcome. There’s plenty more water,” he said, glad
to turn his distasteful thoughts elsewhere. “Or if you’d prefer, orange juice.
So if you need a drink at any time, you’ve my permission to ask.” He tilted up
his own bottle and downed over half the contents in three large gulps. “As a
small reward for how fast you’re progressing, I’ve decided to give you the
choice of which order I do the next two sessions.”

Her head tilted, her expression teeter-tottering between
surprise and curiosity.

“You can take your punishment now. After which, I will fuck
you until you have trouble standing.” He scratched the light stubble of his
five o’clock shadow. “Or…I can restrain you on the St. Andrew’s and toy with
your pussy with pretty much the same result.”

 

A damn good thing she hadn’t been in the process of drinking
or she’d have most likely choked. Basically, she had to decide at which point
in the evening she wanted to deal with a sore ass, since being thoroughly
fucked again was a given.

Since she was a big believer in getting the most difficult
task out of the way first, so whatever followed was an easy downhill glide, her
decision was fairly simple. Besides, she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to
withstand a spanking after being stretched open on the cross and subjected to
whatever he had in mind. “Punishment first, Pierce.”

He ran the tip of his finger down her nose to smooth out the
crinkles that accompanied her words. “Good choice.”

Yeah, right! For who? Me or him?

“Chair?” He tilted his head toward the general direction of
the fireplace and the oversized chair where he’d restrained her before. “Or
lap?” A snap of flesh on flesh rang out when his hand landed on one densely
muscled thigh.

The sound drew her attention to the area below his trim
waist and the stiff rod between those magnificent thighs. Damn, but the man was
superbly built and wondrously big all over.

“Heather.”

The sternness in his voice gained her immediate, undivided
attention.

“When I ask a question, I expect an answer.”

Well, hell. If she hadn’t gotten sidetracked by that
mini-monster jutting straight up from its springy black nest between his legs,
he would’ve gotten a flippin’ answer. What was the dumbass question? Oh, right.
“Lap.” She suppressed a snicker. Glanced back down. From the look of things, by
choosing that option, she wasn’t going to be the only one to suffer. With luck,
Pierce’s need to fuck her would shorten her punishment.

The crinkling crush of plastic yanked her gaze to his
smirking mouth as he winged his crumpled empty water bottle across the room for
a two-pointer into the stainless bar sink. “Finish drinking while I get
situated and then we can get this party rolling.”

While he busied himself pulling the large leather ottoman
back where it’d been before he’d shoved it back, she looked at the
half-forgotten container of spring water she clutched. She’d a spine-tingling
feeling that no matter how much he suffered, his agony would be a drop in the
bucket to what he’d make her endure. The thought of a man’s heavy hand landing
repeatedly on her vulnerable, tender behind would send most normal intelligent
females running for cover.

Heather shrugged. Since she’d never doubted her own
intelligence, that only left the issue of being normal. A category she’d never
particularly aspired to be included in, since being considered unique was more
where her sights lay. Instead of fear, the thought of Pierce’s wide, capable
hand cracking repeatedly over her ass, the painful erotic pleasure she’d
experience with each smack, made her pussy well up with moisture.

She swigged down the remainder of the liquid before setting
the empty bottle down on the end table next to the partially squeezed tube of
lubricant, her gaze fastening on the sight of a slightly larger butt plug than
the one snugly embedded inside her. Her ass involuntarily squeezed around the
sturdy little intruder. When had the new one magically materialized? Not that
Pierce hadn’t had ample opportunity to get it out between her many distractions
and short episode of passing out.

“Mind handing me the lube?” he asked, dropping into a
sitting position.

Taking a silent extended breath to calm her suddenly
jangling nerves, she laid the lube across his open palm. “I’m not sure I’m
ready for…”

“Come here.” He spread his thighs, laying the items onto the
ottoman next to his thigh.

She stepped into the space he’d provided.

“Whether you’re ready or not is what we’re going to find
out.”

Chapter Thirteen

 

As Heather stood quiet between his open thighs, Pierce
studied her guarded expression and slightly hiked silky eyebrow on her lovely
face and couldn’t help thinking how uniquely beautiful she was. The adorable,
precocious child he’d come to know and love in the family sense had grown into
an amazing attractive woman. Though, thank the Lord above, her mischievous,
inquisitive nature had followed her into adulthood. She was a joy to be around
and, down the road, would give some lucky man a run for his money. At another
time, he’d have to explore why the thought of her in a relationship with any
other man but him left a nasty taste in his mouth. And why the word
love
associated with her became more and more palatable. A thought that should have
bothered him more than it did. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d revisit his feelings.
Take a hard candid look at his beliefs. Honestly evaluate the mountainous wall
he’d erected around his heart. Not tonight when he had a completely compliant
naked woman at his ready disposal.

He kissed her navel, thrilled when it quivered beneath his
light touch and a low hum of pleasure drifted down to him. Glancing up, he
wrapped his hands around her trim thighs. High enough to conveniently rest his
thumbs in the crease at the top of her legs. Low enough to where a simple
inward shift would make contact with her hairless pussy. Another shift and her
hard little clit would be at his teasing mercy.

Ah, hell. While he was down here… He lowered his head,
filled his lungs with her honeyed musk scent and took his tongue on a
slow-speed journey from the bottom of her puffy slit, up through her dewy folds
and captured the hard tiny button of flesh at the top between his teeth,
administering a multitude of gnawing nips.

His reward—a decidedly feminine breathy gasp and the sharp
bite of nails into his shoulders.

When he drew back, she withdrew her hands.

One look at her face told him she was dying to say
something. Most likely express regret, judging by the sympathetic glances to
his shoulders.

“Never apologize for an honest reaction.” As he spoke, he
rotated his thumbs in small firm circles. “A little sharp nail bite now and
again is good for a man’s ego. Lets him know the depths of his partner’s
pleasure.”

A flash of relief lit her eyes.

When their time here was up and they returned to the city,
he’d definitely engage her in a game of strip poker. Or maybe a game of f
uck
poker
. The winner of each hand deciding where and how. Not very sporting of
him. Especially since, although competitive as all get-out, Heather’s
expressive face was an opponent’s dream tell. Better than an eye twitch when
the person across from you was holding a good hand. He supposed he should feel
guilty for taking such unfair advantage, but since each hand won would result
in as much pleasure for her as it did him, he wouldn’t be indulging in any
self-flagellation any time soon.

Hmmm, and while he was on the subject of whipping…

He released one of her thighs to pull out a small drawer on
the side of the ottoman and feel around for what he wanted.

“Know what this is?” He held the item up.

Her eyes widened slightly before answering, “Yes, Pierce. A
flogger?”

Shorter than the ones hanging on the wall, the small
discipline device was ideal for close work. “I thought this would be less harsh
than my hand.”

She looked skeptical.

Since she’d discover the truth of his words soon enough, he
didn’t bother with reassurance. He set it next to the lube and butt plug,
letting the tails hang over the side of the seat. As he reached down to close
the drawer, he felt a slight tug on the hand that still held her.

He snapped his head up in time to catch her trying to sneak
a peek at the hidden compartment’s contents before she jerked straight.

He gave her a solid warning crack on her upper thigh. “Still
the curious cat, I see. If you need a reminder of what happened to the nosy
animal, I’d be glad to refresh your memory. Let you pick something blindly from
the drawer and use it on you.”

Straight white teeth captured rose-pink lower lip. She shook
her head.

Pierce held back a grin. The drawer contained nothing truly
ominous. Well, depending on one’s point of view, the small pussy flogger might
be considered a demon’s tool to someone who’d never experienced its pleasurable
effects.

But he knew hinting she’d find something more devious was as
good as wiggling a profusely bleeding finger in front of a starving shark and
would slingshot his little brat’s overactive imagination into warp speed until
she’d had a look. He’d give her two days, three at most to gain her answers.

“Kiss me,” he said, to get her to release her abused lip and
because he wanted to explore every corner of her lovely mouth before he moved
on to other, more intimate parts of her body.

He’d every intention of keeping the kiss light until she
drove her tongue between his lips and tried to dominate the situation.

Not happening, sweetheart.
In the next heartbeat, he
clamped a firm hand on the back of her neck and took back control.

No light petting. A flat-out,
both-you-and-your-body-belong-to-me hardcore possession. She tasted of minty
mouthwash and escalating excitement. Her muffled kittenish noises, echoed in
their joined mouths, sending tingling vibrations over their entwining tongues.
He nipped, sipped, nibbled and tongued his way over every centimeter of her
luscious mouth until he allowed her lungs to refill.

An excellent swimmer, she’d lasted longer than most, but was
still no match for his avid long-distance swimmer’s lung capacity.

He allowed himself a moment to enjoy the way her labored
breaths alternately offered up her pert, generous breasts before pulling her
facedown over his lap.

“Pierce!” She instinctively arched up.

He pushed her back down with a firm hand on the back of her
neck and brought his hand down solidly on her nicely rounded ass in retaliation
for once again speaking without permission.

The next sound to leave her lips was a hiss sifting through
clenched teeth.

Lesson learned.

 

Shit, that stung.
Hung facedown over the solid
platform of Pierce’s granite thighs, Heather barely had time to breathe, let
alone think about her reactions. She puffed out a disgusted breath, only to suck
it back in when Pierce wiggled the small butt expander wedged in her ass.
Sting. Potential pleasure.
Damn.
She didn’t know which sensation to
concentrate on. The decision was abruptly taken from her when the burning heat
in her cheek leveled out to a mild bite of acute discomfort mixed with building
pleasure that settled deep in her pussy.

She squirmed. Stilled. Her attention splintering further at
the feel of Pierce’s long, thick cock digging into her stomach.

“Keep wiggling like that and you’ll be getting
that
a
lot sooner than I’d planned.”

He bucked his hips, leaving no room to misinterpret what
body part he referred to.

Like she needed an interpretation. Not likely since that
bad
boy
and her already wet pussy were speaking the same slutty language.

A rotation and pull on the plug gained her attention.

Unsure what sensation to focus on, she decided to take
Pierce’s earlier advice and just…
feel
.

She closed her eyes.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured as if he knew what she’d done.

The warmth of the kiss placed in the middle of her back, the
coolness of the gel being dripped down the crack of her ass, the firm weight of
his hands as he pulled her cheeks apart and did another experimental light yank
on the toy stuffed inside her all seemed magnified without the benefit of
sight.

She’d read and fantasized so many times about giving herself
over to Pierce, but nothing compared to the reality. The feelings that
bombarded her with each new experience, each warm caress of his expert hands,
no matter where on her body. The deep husky command in his voice that compelled
her to obey.

To be brutally honest, even though she had the burning
desire to submit to Pierce with every fiber in her being, to prove she was the
perfect woman for him, deep down in the shadowy depths of her subconscious,
she’d always been afraid she’d never be able to relinquish all her independence
to him. That giving someone that much control would make her weak. It was a
relief to finally realize she could let go. And, fuck no, it didn’t make her weak
at all. There was a power in relinquishing control that she’d never understood.
If anything, she felt stronger than ever, knowing in this man’s highly capable
hands she’d be cared for, her sensual needs met, even those she didn’t know she
had and this was exactly where she truly belonged. Whodathunk being spanked was
one of those sexual needs. She smiled. For a moment.

WHACK!

“Eeek!” Her body arched.
Motherfu—
She bit her lip.

A firm hand against her shoulder blades pushed her back
down. The same hand landed hard on the opposite cheek to make it burn like the
devil. She forced her body to relax. Instead of tensing, she rode out the
sting, absorbed the fire. Heat rushed through her nerve endings as it
mushroomed, then inverted to swamp and blanket her body, sending a rush of
erotic pleasure to all her sexual pinpoints.

“About damn time,” Pierce murmured as he squeezed her butt
cheeks lightly. His action intensified the heat, but also sent another zap of
pleasure straight to her core.

“I was wondering when you’d stop holding back.”

She turned her head to look at him. “I—”

He tangled his fingers in her hair, yanked her head up and
she got a whiff of his subtle spicy aftershave before he smashed his firm lips
to hers.

Her scalp tingled with little pinpricks of borderline pain
as he held her in place as efficiently as any shackle and mastered her mouth.
Took everything she had to give and pushed for more. When he released her, her
lips were numb, she felt thoroughly ravaged and the light abrasion of his
shadowy beard left no doubt there’d be evidence of his roughness tomorrow. Not
that she cared, since she had a feeling that slight discomfort would be low on
the totem pole of precedence with regard to painful places on her body that
would vie for attention.

“Thank you.” His green eyes smoldered with unmasked
sincerity. “Your letting go completely was the most precious gift you could’ve
given me.”

The low reverent rumble of his declaration arrowed straight
to her heart. Her eyes welled. Holy Mother Mary, how she loved this man. He was
tough as nails for the most part, but strong enough to be extremely sincere,
open and gentle when the need arose.

“The only problem is, knowing that, I’m not sure how long I
can hold out before I stuff you so full of cock those liquid pools rimming your
eyes will turn to unstoppable streams and run down your beautifully flushed
cheeks.” He winked.

She didn’t know whether to giggle or punch him in his
grinning face. He seemed to be a master at wringing conflicting emotion from
her. She knew this time he was doing it to lighten the mood a fraction. For his
benefit or hers? Whichever, his strategy worked and had her eyes drying.

Up until his grin turned wicked and his hand landed on her
tender flesh again with barely enough time for her to catch a breath. Another
blow landed. More followed in quick succession. Always alternating. Ass. Hips.
Thighs. Even her dripping pussy was the recipient of a few soft smacks.
Eventually, the lines between pain and pleasure blurred in her fogged brain and
all that was left was an excruciating need to come as she arched into the
swats, wanting, needing the next one as much as she needed to drag air into her
depleted lungs. Air heavily filled with the musky scent of sex and a
high-pitched animalistic keening.

“Ohhh, God. Ohhh, God. More! Harder! Please, Pierce. Don’t
you dare stop.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew the strange sounds
and pleading to be spanked were coming from her, but she didn’t care.

Her desperate pleas were answered by a low sinister
masculine chuckle that tingled up her spine, down her arms and legs, leaving a
trail of delicious goose bumps in its wake. “Since you asked so prettily.”

The next crack landed without apology, degrees harder than
the preceding ones. She screamed, levered up as her orgasm hit so hard the
world around her skewed, splintered into an array of colorful hues for several
long, awe-inspiring moments and then turned pitch black.

 

“Well, hell.” Laughing softly, Pierce shook his head and
feasted his eyes on the dew-drenched, inert woman hanging over his lap. Heather
was a fainter. As far as he recalled, he’d never seen her lose consciousness
once since he’d known her. Not even when she’d carried home the bloodied,
half-dead dog she’d found hit by a car on the side of the road. She’d been
what, all of ten? No one had realized she’d hauled the badly mangled mutt for
two miles until after they’d gone to retrieve her new bicycle which she’d
dumped and carelessly left by the curb at the site of the accident. None of the
men had thought the dog would survive, not even her usually optimistic father.
But their little brat had demanded they take him to the vet and get him fixed
or she was going to make all their lives a living hell until eternity froze
over. And damn if the mongrel hadn’t recovered and found himself a right cozy
home for the next eleven years. Most of his time spent in the Thompson
household curled up next to Heather, the recipient of her undivided attention
as she unconsciously lovingly stroked him or scratched his belly.

Lucky furry bastard.

Pierce could sure use some of that undivided attention right
now. His cock was so hard and sensitive beneath the soft stomach of the
sleeping beauty draped across his lap, he had to grit his teeth against coming
just from the light friction of her shallow breaths.

BOOK: Restrained and Willing
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