Page 51 of Forever Finds Us
In the lowest growl of a voice, he warned, “You can act like a brat all you want, but if you make me wait much longer, the punishment you’ll earn will only get more intense.”
The gasp that slipped through my lips was loud.
Brand smiled, and I narrowed my eyes. I couldn’t let him know that just the thought of him punishing me was making arousal drip down my thighs.
He gripped his leather belt, let the open strap slip across the palm of his hand. I had to bite back a moan, and I ran. Not because I didn’t want him to use the belt on me, but because I didn’t possess the self-control to wait for him to put his hands on me one second longer.
The length of my hallway was maybe ten feet, but I sprinted like an Olympic runner in a relay race holding the baton.
The mystery box still sat in the chair in the corner of my bedroom where I’d left it days ago.
I was kind of surprised I hadn’t already opened the damn thing, but work had been busy the last week, and when I’d gotten off shift every night, I’d been exhausted. Plus, the excitement of opening it with Brand and the mysterious anticipation of discovering the kinks in his head had given me the chill I’d needed to let it sit untouched in the chair.
I grabbed the box and tossed it on my bed, and then scoured every surface in my room, looking for something sharp to cut through the packing tape, but there was nothing!
My heart raced with anxiety, my breathing fast and unsteady. The urge to please Brand and get my punishment pushed me, made me feel panicked. Whatever it was he intended to give me, I wanted it bad, and like a rush from a drug, I wanted the calm that his touch inflicted on me.
I was addicted to it. To him.
Whimpering at the frustration of not being able to find anything sharp enough to cut through the tape, I balled my hands into fists, but then warm hands slid over my hips and between my arms hanging at my sides.
“Let me,” Brand said softly, and he reached around me for the box, lifted it in front of me, and ripped the thick, stiff material with his bare hands. The sound of splitting cardboard filled my bedroom, and many wrapped items fell to my bed along with a bunch of six-by-six-inch air-filled, plastic shipping puffs.
A packing slip appeared last, and it fluttered onto my comforter as he tossed the box to the floor next to the bed.
“What is all that?” I asked, but he didn’t answer.
Instead, he lifted a sealed and discreet black plastic bag in front of my chest, and his breath rushed over my shoulder.
A dark urgency laced his voice when he whispered, “Bend over.”
Chapter Nineteen
Brand
Kneeling behind Roxanne, I watched as she leaned forward slowly.
With her torso laid out on the bed and her tits smashed into the comforter, her head turned to the side, lips parted in anticipation, my view was nothing but the backs of her supple thighs and grabbable ass cheeks. My mouth watered to taste her as I dragged her panties down her long legs to the floor and pushed them away.
She smelled sweet, like soft roses and vanilla and the smoky bite of whiskey. I smelled her need, too, and it overpowered the alcohol.
Wrapping the restraint I’d bought for her around one thigh, I tightened it. The leather was as soft as butter, and it slipped easily into place. Her skin spilled over the top, and my dick jumped, still locked inside my pants. Holding her arm next to her leg, I wrapped the smaller Velcro cuff attached to the leather, belt-like restraint around her wrist and secured it.
She tugged her arm, testing the power and connection between the two pieces, but she couldn’t get free, not without my help, and I had to work to not moan at the sight.
When I had the matching restraint secured to her other thigh and wrist, I swiped the other items I’d ordered for us off the side of the bed, and I sat back on my heels to take her in.
I knew from the first moment I met her that she’d be beautiful dressed only in something black and leather, and I was right. I’d wanted her like this since that first night on the highway, with her gun holster hugging the sexiest thigh I’d ever laid eyes on.
Now, it was all I could do not to push down my jeans and fuck her hard from behind, but I hadn’t forgotten she’d lied to me, and the restless need I felt to punish her for that itched beneath my skin.
I wanted to bring her as close to orgasm as I could and then take it away. A relentless tease, over and over. It was a reprimand in a way, stopping her from feeling the euphoria of release she craved, but I had a feeling denying her would make it that much more exquisite when I finally allowed her to come, and that was what I really needed from her.
I wanted her shaking, aching, sweating, and I wanted her to scream my name.
I wanted her to know the immeasurable lengths I’d go to please her, that she was the only woman I wanted, and that I’d deny myself to give her everything.
She seemed to believe the lies she told herself, that she wasn’t as beautiful as other women, or that somehow she didn’t measure up. I had no idea where those beliefs had come from, but I wanted to push them from her mind.
