Page 107 of Veiled Flames
I rock back on my heels. “Trust me.” Grinning, I look up at her. “You’re going to like this.”
Her cheeks are even more flushed now, her breaths even more shallow, but her violet eyes remain hard.
“I don’twantto like it.” She glares at me. “I want this act to be fueled byhatred. Mutual hatred. You have many reasons to hate me.
“In case you’ve forgotten, I insulted your family. I spurned your king, your grandfather, your kin, your entire kingdom. And I’m giving you a chance topunishme for what I did.” Her eyes narrow. “I hate you, Tynan, and I know that deep down you hate me too. Show it.”
I shake my head. This is not how I saw tonight unfolding.
“Fine.” She slips out of the space between me and her bed, and points toward her door. “Then leave.”
My heart drops to the depths of my belly. I won’t hurt her. Even if I threatened as much last night, I don’t actually want to punish her. Not even if she asks for it. But I also can’t leave this room without being inside her, not if there’s any chance that she’ll have me.
“Be careful what you ask for, Princess.” I try my best to sound menacing. “My tool can be vicious. It can pound you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week.” Perhaps if I make her fear roughness, she’ll let me take her more gently.
“How many times do I have to tell you? I want it to hurt. Ihateyou! You hate me too. Punish me for what I did to your family.” Her words are harsh and self-assured, but I can detect a hint of doubt in her eyes.
And then I see the full truth. Rosomon doesn’t want me to punish her.
She wants to punish me.
She wants to dictate what happens between us tonight. She wants me to feel badly about what I do to her. She wants me to hurt her, so I’ll feel even more guilt and shame.
Fine. I’ll take my punishment.
I leap to my feet.
Her face reveals her shock at my rapid motion. Good.
“Turn around.”
Her head tips to the side.
“Do as I say.” Grabbing her roughly, I fold her forward over her bed and drag her breeches and braies to her ankles.
Her chest heaves against the mattress.
“Good girl.” I smack her ass, and she yelps.
I wince at the red handprint left behind. I did not mean to strike her so hard, and my palm stings from it too. And yet her body wiggles against the mattress even as the evidence of my harsh slap blooms.
Did sheenjoythat?
I lick my palm and then smack her other ass cheek, loving the sharp sound as my damp flesh meets hers.
Moaning, she stretches her feet apart, as far as they’ll go within the confines of the breeches around her ankles.
“Lift your foot.” I command, and I release it from its confines. Before she can set it down, I use my own feet to shove hers apart, spreading them so wide she needs to balance on her toes, leaving most of her weight forward on the mattress.
Putting one hand between her shoulder blades, I hold her down firmly and slap her ass again—then again and again.
Fearing I’ve gone too far, I knead the heated, pinked flesh. My thumb strikes something hard.
I gasp. “What do we have here?” Her trainer’s base is hidden between her lush ass cheeks, and I press against it, pushing it more firmly inside her.
She moans, and so I twist its end, rotating the marble teardrop in her body. Her hips pulse against the mattress. Encouraged, I tug on the handle and pull the widest part of it out of her pucker, then I twist as I push it back in. Her breath comes out on a shaky exhale.
Fucking thrix. I’ve used trainers on wenches before but never considered putting one inside the hole for which it’s intended. As I play with the trainer, her pleasure rises, and the dampness between her folds increases. She may be the one feeling pleasure, but it’s driving me mad with desire.
