Sinful (7 page)

He already knew that she liked his uniform. She’d made so bold as to tell him so on several occasions when she’d been home when he came in the door, and once when he’d been on an overnight, he’d made love to her first thing the next morning when he got home, without removing a thing, and he would have sworn she came harder than ever.

She was due to be there when he arrived, and she launched herself into his arms when he came through the door as if he was the best thing she’d seen in years.

“So how was your day?”

“Really good – we learned all sorts of new ways to subdue people,” he said, removing his gun and putting it safely away, then following her – and the scent of her cooking – into the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?”

“That chicken and salsa dish you like, and it’s pretty much done except for the rice.”

His head lowered and he caught her eye. “So no having to babysit it?”

She gave him a sideways glance, wondering what he was up to and said, “No, it’s done. I’ll put it together in the bowl just before I serve it.”

“Good, ‘cause I wanna use you as a guinea pig,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her, depositing her in the living room, which was the biggest room in the house. His hand came to rest a bit less than casually on his handcuffs.

“What do you mean, guinea pig?” She looked a bit suspicious.

“I mean that I want to chase you and handcuff you.” His voice lowered several octaves. “And when I do, I’m going to leave them on and blister your behind with that new paddle I bought.”

Her eyes went wide. That was a big paddle, made of some kind of clear plastic, with several sets of holes in it to cut down on wind resistance. It looked evil, and she had told him so when he’d showed it to her originally. Alarmed, she asked, “Why? What’d I do?”

Brandt took a step closer to her, pressing his body against hers and saying, “I don’t have to have a reason, do I? I love the way your backside looks when it’s roasted a nice shade of carmine red. And I think that paddle is going to help me achieve the shade I’m looking for.”

“No! That’s not right!” She was already sidling away from him, but not looking nearly as angry as he’d thought she would. He’d certainly be pissed if someone decided, out of the blue, to take a paddle to his behind.

“That’s right, Lita. I want you to run from me. If you can elude me for fifteen minutes, or make it outdoors, then no spanking. If not...” He took one lunging step towards her and she squealed and ran away. It would be very easy to catch her in the house, so he gave her a generous head start, and even turned his back on her so that he wouldn’t see where she had gone.

“I’m coming, Lita. Better not let me find you,” he singsonged. He used everything he’d learned about searching and clearing a room to determine that she wasn’t in the living or dining rooms, or the kitchen – none of which was surprising, since there really were no places to hide in any of those rooms. He was making his way down the hall to the bathroom when he heard a slight movement from the guest bedroom’s bi-fold door closet. It was well under fifteen minutes. He pulled open the door and saw her there, amongst all her winter clothes. Brandt reached in and grabbed her hand, pulling her up against him. “Aw, too bad. It didn’t take me very long to find you at all, did it?”

He bent down to kiss her, but she wasn’t cooperating – the first time she’d really actively tried to avoid his kiss since they’d been together. He knew he might be releasing a tiger, but he thought it was good for her to realize that she could experience anger and it didn’t have to be some scary, overwhelming thing. She had every right in the world to be angry at his autocratic pronouncement, and he was frankly glad that she was showing some spunk about it.

And spunky she was. She’d taken the self-defense stuff he’d taught her to heart, apparently, stomping down on his instep with her high heeled boot and catching him just right, then, when he let go of her in surprise, she sprinted past him, out of the room and downstairs, where their second bathroom and guest bedroom was – but this one actually contained a bed and a lot fewer boxes than the other one.

There was also a door to their backyard down there.

He stopped trying to cradle his foot and limped determinedly down there. She was nowhere to be found. There was so much crap down here from their combined households that, outside the bedroom/bathroom area, it was like a maze.

He thought he saw her in the bedroom, but pretended he hadn’t in order to draw her out and towards the door to the outside. When she snuck stealthily out, he caught her from behind.

“No! This isn’t fair!” she yelled as he corralled her into the spare room.

“Is that all you’re going to do to try to keep from getting a paddling? Wow – I must not be doing it very well if you’re this relaxed about it.”

Oh, hell, he most certainly was not! Lita did not want to get a spanking that she didn’t feel she deserved, and she wasn’t at all sure what he wanted her to do differently, but she tried something and it seemed to work. Reaching out – as he guided her without touching her closer and closer to the edge of the bed – she ran towards him and began to beat him about the head and shoulders. She wasn’t going to do him any harm, regardless, but he was glad to see her get emotional about something, to fight for something.

“That’s it,” he said, covering his head when he needed to, but mostly letting her beat him up as much as she was capable of. “Fight me. It’s okay to feel frustrated and angry, Lita. I’m fine with that.”

“If you’re fine with me beating you up, then you’re not much of a man, are you?” she taunted.

She’d never spoken to him that way, in such a dismissive, sarcastic tone and he didn’t like it. “That’s enough, Lita. I have no problem with you expressing anger, but I won’t tolerate disrespect.”

She continued to pummel him, some of her blows landing perilously close to his junk.

He didn’t yell or scream or try to hit her back in any way – that would never even have come to his mind. But he did reach out and grab her hands, subduing her easily in about ten seconds, with his one big hand holding her wrists in front of her while he slipped the cuffs on in record time.

Lita continued to fight, trying to stomp on his instep or toes again, even trying to head butt him, but she was too short and her whole hearted attempt landed on his solar plexus, instead, knocking the wind out of him. She continued to pant and seethe, obviously extremely pissed. And Brandt didn’t necessarily try to thwart her; he just tried to keep his own body parts safe. Eventually, though, he reached out and used both arms to clamp her up against him, pretty much neutralizing her efforts at escape. “That’s it. I like it when you fight me. C’mon, you’re not giving up yet, are you?”

She couldn’t tell whether he was being patronizing or not, but she suspected that he was, and that just made her madder, not that that was going to help her any. She was exhausted, and her efforts showed it.

They ended up right where she’d been trying to avoid – on the bed. She was on her back, and he was on top of her, reaching over to the desk that was near the bed to extract a pair of scissors, with which he removed every stitch of her clothing while he was still in his uniform.

She had never felt quite that vulnerable with him, at least not until he slid himself down her to press the bulge of his enormous erection against her and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was going to fuck her while she was captive like this. And she detested the way that idea made her feel flushed and hot all over.

When he leaned down to kiss her, she considered biting his lips or tongue, but then she forgot her protestations in the heat of his kisses. But when he reached one arm up to keep her wrists pinned above her head, and the other one down to release himself, the struggle was on again, even though she knew she had absolutely no hope of dislodging him. He weighed almost three times what she did, and she knew he wasn’t going to let her go until he was through with her, and she had no idea when that would be.

Lita did her best to try to avoid his kisses, turning her head away, keeping her mouth closed, until he reached beneath her and pinched her bottom. When she opened her mouth to protest, his tongue invaded as if he was a conquering Roman soldier and she was a Saxon serf.

It didn’t help that her body was completely involved in and entranced by what he was doing, so not only was she fighting him, but she was also fighting herself. Every pore in her body wanted her to surrender to him, to let him have his way with her, whispering seditious propaganda about how good his weight felt on top of her, and how tantalizing it was not to be able to reach down to touch him, about how feeling this helpless and vulnerable was making her leak juices in tribute to him. And besides, it hissed into her brain, there was nothing she could do to stop him; he was going to do it anyway.

And she couldn’t even say ‘whether she wanted him to or not’, because a large part of her wanted him to, and even her intellect was on the fence about it. She knew she was in no danger from him at all, that if she but peeped a real protest, he would stop.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do that, no matter how much her mind told her that she should want to. She didn’t. She liked him handling her this way, forcing his will on her, and that was a new, twisted bit of information she knew she’d be working on accepting about herself for a long while to come.

He plunged rudely inside her with no preamble, no usual fondling or caresses, and, in the further recesses of her mind, something he’d said to her early on in their relationship came back to her. He had said that, even if she submitted to him, she was the one with all the power. This must’ve been what he meant – that he was an honorable man, and he wouldn’t do anything she really didn’t want him to do. If she truly hadn’t wanted him to take her like this, she could have stopped it at any time.

But oh, dear God help her, she didn’t want it to stop. No, not at all. She was very disturbed about it, but at herself and not him. She didn’t think that she’d really confronted the fact that her intellect wasn’t always in control of her body. She’d known it in the back of her mind, but this situation had forced her to blatantly confront it. And she could have done without that self-realization.

Brandt was a bit worried. Lita seemed as if she were a thousand miles away, and he’d wondered, at least at first, if he’d miscalculated badly. But as soon as the part of him that was most male found her feminine glove and he saw her eyes close slowly, as if someone was injecting her with a particularly potent drug, he knew he was all right.

She was still trying to escape, but only because she wanted to put her arms around him, and he wouldn’t allow it. He held her – truly captive – for the whole thing, for each pounding thrust, each time he reached below her and squeezed a cheek, startling her into arching up to meet him by pinching her behind, then leaning down to capture an errant, bobbing nipple and suckle fiercely at it as he continued to slam into her, watching her head begin to roll back and forth between the frame of her arms as he drove them both towards the inevitable end.

He wanted her to climax with him, as a result of this encounter in particular. He wanted to bring her to completion – whether she wanted him to or not.

Luckily, as always, her body was his staunchest ally, and where he led, it followed. Seconds before he succumbed to those agonizingly pleasurable contractions, he felt her surrender to her own violent spasms, bucking up against him, pressing him further into her with each movement. It was what had put him over the edge.

He didn’t let her go immediately, either. He kept her hands pressed into the mattress above her head as he came back down to Earth, then rolled slightly off her, although not much. He continued to kiss her as their breathing slowed, then deliberately brought his hand between the legs his still held somewhat apart. Her eyes flew open, and he whispered, “Spread your legs for me, Miss Lita.”

She tested how well he held her bonds, and whether or not she could move out from under him, and realized she was still trapped, still at his mercy for whatever else it was that he had planned.

What he intended was to bring her off again at least once, if not more. He’d just begun to do that, showing her how her body worked, giving her two or three orgasms at a clip. Eventually he wanted to see just how many she could have, but he wasn’t at all sure what he would decide about quantity over quality. He knew that, after a while, it simply became a muscular contraction in response to stimuli, with little or no pleasure in conjunction with the act, and that was something he wanted to avoid.

But right now, she was lying there looking as if he’d told her he was going to take her in the bottom, which he’d also warned her he intended to do sometime in the near future. And when he used a strap he’d put on this bed – his old king – a long time ago to hold her wrists in place while he kissed his way slowly, languorously down her body, the astonished look became almost apoplectic.

She’d held him off from this, and he hadn’t really thought about doing it until just now, but he couldn’t see any reason at all not to indulge himself, especially since her wandering hands had been so nicely neutralized.

“Brandt, no! You can’t! Please!”

Anyone who didn’t know their situation might think he was wielding the promised paddle on her reluctant backside. She was trying to talk him out of something that most women would give anything to get their mate to do. He didn’t say that, of course, because she wasn’t every woman. Nor was he going to allow her deep-seated modesty to deter him from his goal. Hadn’t in the past, wouldn’t in the future, either.

It had been too long. He shouldn’t have let her stop him the times he had wanted to and he had allowed her to dissuade him. Now there was nothing short of an earthquake that was going to keep him away from that most beautiful, feminine part of her.

Brandt took his time getting there, too, dallying for a long time at her breasts, teasing those buds into painful peaks by suckling hard, ignoring her whimpers and razing them with his teeth, tugging at them and nibbling a little, but not too much in deference to her inexperience. He trailed down her sides, licked his way around her waist, then down around her hips to kiss along the hip-thigh crease and found his home.

Her legs were well spread because he was between them – she had no choice. There was no way she could even begin to close them around the breadth of his shoulders, and he was so tall that she couldn’t even bring them up and around him, either. She was trapped and he was going to do that which she dreaded even more than the paddle in some ways.

There was no possibility that she would ever have known that anything like this position existed in her previous world. Missionary – with its inherent male dominance – was the only godly way to procreate, as far as that church was concerned. Any other innovations were frowned upon, especially since they often didn’t involve any possibility of pregnancy.

She had come a long way since then, pretty much all because of Brandt. And even though he had helped her every step of the way and addressed ninety-nine percent of her hang-ups, this was one she didn’t think she’d ever get over. It just, plain and simple, wasn’t
right
.

Now, he had already taught her to do the same thing for him, and that, somehow, seemed okay to her, probably, he’d pointed out when they were discussing it one night, because it put a woman in a submissive position.

But this – this just went against everything good and natural, as far as she was concerned, and she told him exactly that, repeatedly, while he did just as he wanted, of course, and brought his mouth to within such a close range that she could feel his breath on that little spot he seemed to know so well. To her horror and deep shame, it leapt towards him and her entire body contracted almost painfully.

He didn’t miss that blatant reaction, of course, he was eagle-eyed about everything about her. He knew practically before she did when she had a headache, and handed her aspirin, before she was cold and turned up the heat in the car or the apartment. He’d known she would love this, too, despite her misgivings and her sure knowledge that this – above anything else she’d done with him – was a sin.

And it went without saying that, in regards to her in bed – or her behavior anywhere – he was practically clairvoyant.

“Someone’s happy to see me,” he teased. Then, struck by the thought, he reached out to delve a bit lower, just to see if perhaps the rest of her was much more enamored with the idea than her stilted brain, and, of course, it was. “Lovely. Just lovely,” he complimented, then simply leaned a bit forward and sealed his entire mouth over her.

He’d never heard anyone issue such a strangled scream in his life. It seemed to straddle that line between annoyance – he knew it wasn’t pain – and pleasure, almost a growl but more of a moan. “No, please, Brandt, don’t do this.”

“What are you so afraid of, baby girl?” he asked.

She closed her eyes, as if she could wish him – and his blasted nosy questions – away.

“Ah, you’re worried that you’ll like it too much, aren’t you?” He’d hit the nail on the head, of course, but she refused to acknowledge it.

“Do I have to flip you over and paddle you until you answer me, darlin’?”

She wanted to melt at his use of the endearment, but couldn’t because of the content of his question. “No, I— no, you don’t, and yes, I am,” she said both things very quickly, like ripping off a band-aid.

He smiled broadly. “No need to worry, Lita. I won’t stop until you’re satisfied.”

That was what she was worried about the most! She wanted to scream, but then he enveloped her in all that hot, wet teasing and she couldn’t have come up with her name if her life had depended on it. Luckily it didn’t.

“You can cum any time you feel like it, Lita, because this is not going to be the only time.”

She sighed, but he had just begun flicking the barest tip of his tongue over the very tippy top of her clit, teasing, tempting, making her rise up to meet him, trying to get him to broaden and flatten his tongue to cover more area, but he refused. She could come, all right, but he would still pretty much control when.

It wasn’t until he inserted a big finger up inside her and began to work it slowly in and out, then adding a second to stretch her that much further that he could hear that she was seriously close. “That’s it. Let it happen. Don’t fight it. Obey me, Lita. Submit to me. I want you to cum, right now—”

Her full-throated scream rose to a fever pitch that she had to close her mouth to stifle, then slowly – very slowly – wound back down. Damn, they had to get a more private place to live. He hated the fact that she couldn’t respond as naturally to him as she might because any of the neighbors around them could have been listening to them having sex, or to her being punished. The walls of these condos were made out of little but toilet paper and spit.

When she had quieted a little, but still seemed to kind of be off in her own little world, he returned to his luscious work, feeling her whole body contract as soon as he took his place again.

“No, not again, please!”

“Oh yes, Lita. First I’m going to wear you out with orgasms, and then I’m going to wear out your little bottom with the paddle and put you to bed with a very sore behind.”

She couldn’t put her hands down, but she could crane her neck up to look down at him, outraged. “The paddle? Why?”

“Didn’t I tell you that if I found you within fifteen minutes, I was going to try out your new implement?”

“No! You can’t! That’s not right!” She wanted to cry and scream and most of all get away, but she couldn’t do any of those things because of his damned hands and tongue! She’d never imagined that anything could feel this good, and she knew that it was a shameful thing and that she shouldn’t have been getting any pleasure from it at all, but there was no way she could avoid her body’s response to him. He played her perfectly, responding to even the slightest hint of a sigh or caught breath or moan. He knew so much more about her body than she did, that she was helpless against him and the torturous teasing of his lips and tongue.

Just as he brought her to her second and third orgasms in rapid success, he reiterated his stance that, if he said that he was going to paddle her, then that was exactly what he was going to do, and launched her into a fourth in a matter of seconds.

And he did, after he’d brought her to so many tremendous orgasms that they all kind of ran together into one long marathon of ecstasy. But when he got up and reached into the nightstand drawer to withdraw that horrible paddle, she couldn’t help but start to cry.

He was resolute, though, untying her hands and arranging her over his lap as he leaned back against the headboard, laying the paddle on her bottom and adding a pillow beneath her hips, so that her bum was thrown into greater prominence.

Not that she thought she really needed that. She had too big a butt as it was, but she wasn’t about to say anything like that at a time like this. It wouldn’t do to antagonize him, and hearing her say something that sounded like she was insulting herself would probably get her double whatever amount it was that he was going to dole out to her this time.

He didn’t usually spank her just because he wanted to. In fact, Lita thought that this was probably the first time he’d ever done it. All of the other times – and they were, frankly, innumerable – there was some reason behind it. She’d stayed up past her bed time without permission, or had been sassy with him, or had skipped a dose of medication... There was something she needed to learn from the application of his hand – or a wooden spoon from the kitchen, or even one awful time, his leather belt – to her backside.