Page 57 of Forbidden Vows

“Kinda.”

“Then let me use being a man who cares greatly for you as my excuse to punish you.”

I squirm in my seat. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Doesn’t everyone get off with a warning for first offenses?”

“Not in the house.”

My eye is drawn to the top of the dresser. There’s a folded fur blanket I don’t recognize. A tube of lube. And a mischievously shining gold object.

My heart jumps. Where have I seen one of those little gold things before?

My mind races back to a catalog Keith left out to make me—I don’t know—not me? Colorful pages of outrageous toys I never dared to try—until the realization hits me hard. On the dresser sits a butt plug. A plug intended for, well, your backside. My face burns with embarrassment, while a chill of anxiety sweeps over me.

"Hold on—is that thing...meant for me?"

His voice slides over me, low, amused. “Are there any other naughty girls sneaking through the streets of Italy no regard to their personal safety? If not, it’s all yours.”

With the sheer number of people in this country, most likely, but I’m not sure he wants a response, so I stay quiet.

He lifts it from where it lies, holding it before me. “Well, who does this belong to, baby?”

I stare at the implement, noting how much wider and longer it is than the finger that was once inside me. Is he really planning on putting that thing in such a tight and taboo space?

His fingers close around the jeweled handle as he stares down at me. “Take your clothes off. Now.”

This isn’t cute, like the time I stripped in the lair. This feels…dangerous. Shame burns my face. My fingers tremble as I peel off my jeans and shirt, until I’m standing before him in my matching bra and panty set.

His gaze devours me. His look of hunger turns me on, but I’m too nervous about the punishment to come to tap into the feeling fully. He spreads the fur blanket over the edge of the bed, covering the bedding. His attention turns back to me.

“Lose the underwear. I want to see every inch of my naughty girl when I’m punishing her.” His eyes are dark and serious, but their desire flame betrays his stoic demeanor. "Bend over the bed, Cleo," he commands, his voice steady and firm, leaving no room for argument.

I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. My body moves as if on its own, obeying his command before my mind can fully process it. I turn and bend over the bed, the cool silky fur of the bedding pressing against my cheek and breasts. I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to believe I obey his commands.

“Spread those legs for me.”

“I—I can’t—” My protest is cut short by a sharp spank that ignites fire across my ass.

I gasp and part my legs, cool air rushing over the wet heat of my pussy. I hear the cap click. Cool with lube, a finger traces the groove between my cheeks, then presses against my trembling ring. My first instinct is to clench, but sting and urgency keep me still. The fingertip slips inside, inch by agonizing inch, until it reaches its first knuckle. My pussy clenches in unison, a rush of shame and need.

“The plug is small,” he whispers. “It will stretch and fill you—and remind you to be my very good girl.”

My body feels like a wire pulled tight, thrumming with anxiety. Behind me, I sense Blaze moving purposefully, slowly.

I feel the metal tip press cold and smooth against my tight ring of lubed muscles. He pushes the tip inside my clenching entrance, fighting and pressing past my entrance. Everything inside me goes molten. A whimper breaks from my lips, small and desperate, as the plug stretches its way in.

Suddenly, I ache with need, needing to be filled by the gleaming object. A craving so persistent it wracks every corner of my being, from mind to body to flooding core. A strange intensity comes over me as the plug fills me, owning my thoughts and feelings, my full focus on the feel of it entering my ass.

My body quivers and tenses at once, greedy for the fullness, the burning stretch that sends licks of flames through my pussy. He keeps working until finally, only its jeweled, flared base rests against my skin, its solid presenceinescapable. Filled and stretched to the point of breaking, I almost unravel.

He gives the plug’s handle a firm tug.

The sudden shift sends a jolt of electricity through me, a mix of pain and pleasure that tears a cry from my throat. He pauses, waiting for me to adjust, before continuing his ministrations with the plug in a rhythmic dance. I am overwhelmed by every sensation—the cool air on my exposed skin, his warm hand against my lower back, the plug filling me.

My empty, needy pussy.

"Feel it, Cleo," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. "Feel how much you crave my discipline.”

He smacks my ass, then grabs my curve in his grasping palm, squeezing till I’m up on tiptoe, crying out. Each movement sets off a cascade of sensations that leave me gasping. The world narrows down to this moment, this room, this man. I am acutely aware only of him. He smooths his hand lightly over my curves a gentle caress that contrasts sharply with the invasive presence of the plug. I arch into his touch, craving more, craving everything he can give me.

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