Only For Him, page 20
I’m going to fuck that question out of existence.
If I didn’t want her, she’d be dead. I’m certain she knows it, so I bite the comment back.
Instead, with both hands on her hip, I roll her over and then pull her onto her knees. She yelps in surprise, then gasps as I wrap her hair around my wrist and grip the nape of her neck, pulling her head toward me. With her back arched and my lips at her shoulder I whisper against her skin. “There is nothing and no one I want more, Braelynn,” I speak without thinking. I tell her what she wants to hear and what I wish wasn’t true.
I’m well and truly fucked when it comes to this woman.
“After I punish you, I’m going to fuck you until we’re both too exhausted to stay awake any longer.”
I keep my grip tight as I lower her cheek to the floor. “Stay,” I command her, fueled by her heavy pants. “I want your arms like this for your punishment,” I tell her and lay them beside her, palms up so she can’t brace herself any longer. My gaze lingers on a gouge on her wrist from where the restraints dug in.
Betrayal and anger, disappointment and even fear strike me. For a fraction of a second, they all war inside of me. Every emotion demands to be heard and I smother them all down, refusing to feel anything but what I have with Braelynn in this moment.
Running my hand down her back, inwardly I promise myself I will make this all right. Her shoulders carry the weight of her upper half, her ass remaining high in the air and her cunt barely showing to me.
“Arch your back,” I murmur as I stand behind her to take off my pants. My erection is hard and eager for her, but my palm itches to punish her first.
She does as commanded and I’m given a perfect view of the soft hues of her pink lips. Getting back down on my knees I grip her hips and drag her away from the wall to position her so I have full leverage behind her.
She yelps with the movement and nearly moves her arms. They jerk from natural instinct, but she keeps them how I arranged them.
Good girl.
That’s my good little fuck toy.
I don’t give a shit what happened before, I’ll keep her away from everything and she’ll stay safe and she’ll stay mine. That’s the only thing I care about.
“Safe word, Braelynn. Give it to me.”
“Red,” she whispers, a flush already darkening her tan skin. The color pools in her cheeks as she breathes in heavily, her hands clenching and unclenching as she waits for the first blow.
I grip her ass in my fist, squeezing and tugging slightly to bring her blood to the surface.
“What is your punishment for?” I question her to make damn sure she knows.
“Hitting you,” she answers with a pained, hushed tone. Her eyes close tightly and I tell her to look at me. From where she kneels beneath me, naked and bare with her back bowed, her dark eyes peeking through her thick lashes, I’ve never wanted anything more. Her submission is perfect. She is all that is beautiful between us, all of what is worth fighting for.
As I squeeze her ass again, bringing a hint more pain, her bottom lip drops slightly and a crease forms between her brows. “You’ll never lay a hand on me again. You’ll never yell at me again. If ever you feel the need, you will safe word, I will take care of you and we will continue when we are ready. Do you understand?”
I already know I never want to have this discussion again. She isn’t going to tell me who she leaked information to. She’ll take it to her grave. So long as she obeys from here on out … I can live with that.
“Yes, Declan,” she answers dutifully and I waste no time running the tips of my fingers up her slit and then down to her nub. She’s not wet enough yet, not ready for me, but she will be when I’m done with her punishment. Her body will beg me for my cock.
The first smack is light and her arms jerk slightly beside her, but she remains still. I waste no time giving her a second smack, this time using the back of my hand on the other side on her ass. Not hard, just enough to pinken the skin, to prepare for what’s to come.
Grabbing her ass where I’ve just spanked her, I press my cock into her thigh and lean forward to scrape my teeth along her neck. I nip the lobe of her ear once and then whisper to her, “It is done, it is taken care of, do you understand? This is the end of it.”
My heart batters inside of me as her eyes widen and she stares ahead blankly. Her expression is pained. She desperately needs me to believe her … but I don’t. I can’t. I can love her, though. I can protect her. I can make sure she’s never in this position again. We just need to get through this moment.
“Yes, Declan,” she answers and I kiss her fiercely. Her gasp is short and her moan much longer as I taste her, as I rock into her. With one hand on her breast, I squeeze and she moans lower and deeper. I reward her by plucking her nipple and she shivers against me. My smile breaks the kiss and she’s left breathless, staring up at me with questions coloring her beautiful gaze.
“Your punishment first,” I remind both of us and get in position behind her.
I need her ass bruised so even after the high of her orgasm is long gone, she remembers this punishment. With that thought in mind, I strike her right ass cheek with a swift blow. Her instinct to move gets the best of her and her arms come up, her palms on the floor as her mouth drops with a silent scream. My left hand grips the nape of her neck and I hold her down.
“Count them, my disobedient pet,” I command her as my pulse quickens and my heart pounds. She’s slow but deliberate in placing her arms back down at her sides, palms up like before. “One,” she barely gets out. My mark on her is bright red and I’m certain stings worse than my palm does. When my hand comes down for the second blow, just beneath the first, tears leak from the corners of her eyes but still she manages, “Two.”
Releasing her neck, I use my left hand for the other side.
Three. Four.
Tears fall freely as I rub her ass, squeezing and kneading her flesh.
“You’re my good girl now, aren’t you?” I question her as I play with her cunt.
“Yes, Declan,” she grits out in a pained voice. Lowering my lips to her clit I suck before taking a languid lick up her slit and dipping my tongue in her hole. With a hand on each ass cheek I squeeze, teasing out the pain I’m giving her as I suck on her clit once again.
A deep groan of satisfaction leaves me as her pussy clenches around nothing, arousal sweeping away any lingering discomfort.
Kneeling behind her, my cock juts out and I run a hand up and down her back, soothing her as I tell her, “You have ten. Six more to go.”
Her expression stiffens as does her entire being, but she answers how she should. “Yes, Declan.”
“You’re the perfect little fuck toy, aren’t you?” I question her and just as she answers yes, my palm strikes down.
Her breathing hitches with obvious pain, but she counts like a good girl.
“You’ll never disappoint me like that again, will you?”
Her voice is tight as she answers no at the same time as my other palm comes down. I’m careful to check where I’ve struck her, and monitor every inch of her.
Just as I’m about to tsk, she whispers, “Six.”
“Good girl,” I murmur as I rub her cunt and she’s so desperate for relief, she rocks into my hand.
“Greedy little slut, aren’t you?” I question, staring down at her. She’s fucking gorgeous, her eyes closed and her lips parted just slightly.
“For you,” she answers and that’s when I know we’re going to be just fine. I can keep her safe and I can keep her mine. I keep reassuring myself, I keep telling myself that everything will be perfect and as it should be as I spank her ass and upper thighs until she’s sobbing. Every inch where I’ve struck her will be bruised tomorrow. My own hand stings and is practically numb from the blows.
Smack!
She’s mine. They will never touch her again. She will never betray me again. She’s mine.
Smack!
“Ten,” she cries out on the last one louder than the others. Her shoulders heave as she does, her chest rising and falling chaotically.
She winces as I grip her ass with both hands, squeezing again. She may be in pain, but the moment I thrust into her slick cunt, all the way to the hilt in a swift motion, utter rapture takes over her expression.
Buried inside of her, I move her arms up, letting her brace herself with her palms on the floor. “You’re going to need to hold yourself up,” I tell her as I pull out slowly.
She whimpers with the loss, her head hanging to the side.
The moment she looks back and her eyes find mine, I slam inside of her. The sight is a fucking drug. Like heroin to my veins. Her tearstained cheeks, her parted plump lips and her dark eyes beg me to fuck every thought of what’s happened out of her pretty little mind.
I rut into her savagely and without warning, needing her to come on my cock. Her nails dig into the carpet as she’s pushed forward. I’m all too aware that with every thrust, she has both the pain of her spanked ass and the pleasure of me fucking her heightened.
Kissing her wildly, I capture her stifled moans with everything in me, needing her to feel overwhelming pleasure. With her lips on mine, she comes undone beneath me, her body tensing and her pussy clenching around my cock.
I resist every urge to come and ride through her orgasm, fucking her harder and deeper, taking her to the highest high imaginable.
I fuck her ruthlessly until she’s limp beneath me, barely cognizant with my name spilling from her lips as if I’m her fucking savior.
BRAELYNN
The first thing I note when I wake up is that Declan isn’t in bed. The second is that every inch of me is in agony.
My throat is on fire, my muscles are sore and tight, and my ass is in such pain that I wake from rolling over onto my side.
Fuuuuuuuck. Gritting my teeth, I absorb the shock of the sudden pain. With a deep breath it’s gone in an exhale. I slept like death itself. Pure exhaustion that still lays heavy under my eyes left me without a single dream or nightmare.
Yesterday comes back to me all at once. Shivers run down my spine and I cling to the blanket. Everything is okay, I remind myself even though it hurts to swallow, my throat is so hoarse. I remember screaming his name last night as he fucked me like I was his whore. I wish I hadn’t. It already hurt before and now simply swallowing brings about pain.
Add in a headache that’s more than likely from lack of caffeine and waking up is a new kind of hell.
Vaguely I remember the balm Declan rubbed on my backside last night. Retreating to my stomach, I lift myself up enough to check his nightside table. A white jar and a tube of Neosporin sit next to a large black glass clock. It looks just as heavy as it does expensive. Everything in his room does. That clock, though, is something else.
It could either kill you, or make you go broke to own it. The thought brings a touch of humor to a rather uncomfortable morning. I’m quiet for a moment, listening for Declan. I watch the bathroom door, but it’s shut and there’s not a sound in the room in the least. The bed groans as I make my way to the nightstand.
Every muscle in me aches, even muscles I didn’t know I had.
The memories of last night come back to me as I gently rub the cooling balm over my heated skin.
My heart flicks with a painful beat as I remember him whispering in the crook of my neck that he loved me. I swear it happened, didn’t it?
He carried me from the floor to the bed, although I don’t remember it. My gaze drops to my knees which bear evidence of carpet burn. He fucked me into a rag doll last night. The memory of how savagely he took me steals my breath and hardens my nipples. The ache between my thighs outweighs the soreness of any other part of me.
I don’t know if it’s the lack of sleep or the hell of what’s happened, but I don’t remember it all. It’s in pieces. All I know is that he said it was over, he said he wants me, he said I am his and no one will ever touch me again.
And I promised him obedience and submission. I promised to be his. Something tells me there is fine print to this unwritten contract that I’m not prepared for.
Heat consumes me and I do my best to ignore it as I take care of myself, every so often glancing up and expecting him to be standing in the doorway.
He never appears, though.
It takes me a good ten minutes before the balm goes into effect enough for me to scoot off the bed. The soreness is much more manageable on my feet although I’m freezing without the covers.
Still naked, I venture to the en suite bathroom. There, a toothbrush and hairbrush wait for me on the edge of the counter. They’re both pink and still in packaging.
After calling out his name and even peeking beyond his bedroom door to the vacant hall lined with a textured dark blue wallpaper, I determine he’s left me alone.
Every dark mahogany drawer begs me to open it, but I resist. I go about my business in the bathroom, carefully placing the items back where they were and the packaging into the trash.
It’s only when I come out of the bathroom, feeling somewhat better after drinking water from the tap that I see the shirt laid out on the bench at the foot of the bed with a note.
It’s written on a thick piece of parchment.
I won’t be gone long. If you wake up and need me, call me from the phone in the kitchen.
Feel free to make yourself more comfortable. Do not leave the wing unless it’s to go to the kitchen.
He’s left only a simple Henley for me to wear. It’s his and quite large so the hem of it rests around my upper thigh. I can’t lie, a single sniff of the shirt reminds me of him and it soothes the pain of not knowing what’s going to happen for just a moment. It vanishes quickly as the headache reminds me of its presence.
I reread the word kitchen and debate on waiting for Declan before leaving. The attempt to sit on the edge of the bed proves to be painful so I’m quick to get back to my feet. With the note in my hand, I take in my surroundings. It’s all heavy foreboding furniture, no pictures or knickknacks. Everything looks expensive and cold. There’s not an ounce of personality and nothing sitting out to occupy my curiosity.
There isn’t a television either. There’s nothing but quiet.
A chill runs over my shoulders and I debate on opening a drawer in search of pants or socks even, but I don’t.
If he wanted me to wear something else, he’d have given it to me. His comment about me snooping also comes to mind and a freezing cold grips my shoulders. I glance at the note again and then the bedroom door. I debate on lying down again, on simply sleeping—as if I could without remembering what happened before last night—until he’s back. I nearly do it, too, but a spike of pain rips through my head.
Caffeine withdrawal and starvation are a bitch.
Unable to fight those off any longer and the continued quiet leading me to have thoughts I would rather not deal with, I decide the kitchen is where I should go. Declan might even be there waiting for me.
Maybe that’s why he wrote it in the note.
An eerie feeling clings to me as I open the door and look out into the hall again. “Declan?” No one answers me. It’s so quiet I can hear my heart racing.
The kitchen led to a large foyer, and that foyer opened onto Declan’s wing … I’m almost certain. My heart beats harder, but I’m almost positive it was that easy. If it wasn’t, surely he wouldn’t have allowed it.
I shut the door behind me, the note he left still in my hand and I cross my arms over my chest as I wander down the hall.
The dark navy blue color palette is a constant down the long winding hallway. The doors are carved dark mahogany, and every one of them is shut. There are three doors in total that I pass. Two on the left and only one on the right before coming to the double doors that exit to the foyer.
I debate on knocking on them, on testing to see if Declan is there but then I read the note again.
My palm is damp as I hold the parchment tighter.
Whatever I do today, I can’t disappoint him. Not again. Fear still lingers and there’s a dread that doesn’t let go of me.
I’m not given much time to think on it as I step out into the massive foyer. The black and white marble tiles feel cool against the soles of my feet. Heavy walnut double doors with carved crystal doorknobs lead to what I know to be the other wings of the estate. I know there are five in total, one for each of the Cross brothers, and the last …
My gut roils at the thought of where that fifth door leads and I hurriedly avert my gaze. Swallowing thickly, I continue straight ahead, my bare feet padding silently on the marble flooring.
This home is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s more of a mansion than a house. I’ve heard rumors and stories about this place, but nothing could have done it justice.
Light pours in from the massive windows in the sleek, modern kitchen. Just beyond the back wall that’s lined with black glass from floor to ceiling, I think I can see a garden outside. It’s so much brighter here compared to the hall where there wasn’t a single window, or to his room where all the curtains were pulled tight.
The entire kitchen is spotless as if it’s just been cleaned and smells of a hint of lemon. The dark walnut floors are polished to such a high shine, I can see my reflection in them.
I only get two steps into the kitchen, without an idea of where the coffee machine would even be, when I hear the distinct sound of masculine voices behind me. Their heavy footsteps are sudden and their tones casual.
With my heart racing, I spin on my heel with fear striking through me at the sight of the Cross brothers.
Silence slips between us as the three of them walk in, then immediately halt when they see me.
All three are dressed for the day. Jase and Daniel wear slacks with a button-down and polo, respectively. Carter is in a slim-fitted, dark gray suit with no tie. They could tell me the cufflinks Carter wears cost more than my mother’s house and I would believe them. From the way they’ve all styled their hair, to the clean shave of their sharp jawlines, wealth drips from them. So does their savagery.
