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His grin was a wicked, evil thing as he reached for the two other items on the bed. A necktie, and a belt. The tie was wrapped around my upper arms, the belt around my calves. The burrito had been secured.
“I'm going to strangle you the second I'm free,” I told him after he—once again—flung me over his shoulder. “And that'll only be the beginning. Mark my words, Adrien Cloutier.”
He carried me out of the bedroom.
“I'm going to put soap on every toothbrush you ever own, cilantro in every single thing you ever eat. It's all you'll taste for the rest of your life.”
Down the stairs.
“I'm going to glue Legos inside all your shoes. You'll never eat an unlicked Oreo ever again. Do you hear me!”
Through the hallway, and into the kitchen. The lights were on.
“I'm going to glitter-bomb your whole world, Adrien. You'll be shitting the stuff by the time I'm done with you. I’ll be a permanent papercut in your life.”
We passed by two pairs of feet.
“Oh god, you two.” Julie laughed in sing-songy delight, as if her son and I were just a couple of rowdy kids in love.
“The wedding is off!” I snarled at her perfectly manicured toes. “I will not be marrying your hooligan son!”
She laughed harder. Anthony also chuckled.
And then we were outside, on the patio.
“What the—” Alice's voice said. “Fuck's sake, you guys. You’re traumatizing the rest of us! I’m basically still a child!”
“It’s not a sex thing!” I insisted.
“It absolutely is,” Adrien retorted.
Alice threw something soft and round at Adrien's back, just as I tried to knee him in the chest. She met her target, but I just ended up failing uselessly like an idiot mackerel. Adrien gripped me tighter.
“Do not fall,” he ordered. “We're almost there.”
“Almost where?” I demanded to know. We were walking over dark grass now. “Adrien, I am not into outdoor sex. I don't do bugs, dirt, or fresh air. So don't even think about it!”
But then we reached a stone pathway and a new set of porch stairs. A door creaked open, and we were inside another house from the looks of the hardwood floor. When he finally put me down, it was on another bed, in another extremely expensive-looking bedroom.
I glared savage daggers at him.
“There,” he said with a smug grin. “Now nobody will hear you when you scream.”
“That's so murdery, you freak!” I hissed angrily. “Untie me this instant!”
He chuckled but complied. I lunged for him the moment I was free. But instead of strangling him like I'd planned, I accidentally wrapped my arms around his neck and crashed into his mouth with my mouth. And instead of murdering him dead, I giggled against his luscious lips and tried to pull him down to the mattress.
But he—of course—had other plans. I was put over his lap before I could even think about protesting, the flimsy bottom of my slip was flipped up, and my bare ass was exposed to him. And I... loved it. I fucking loved this.
It was so much fun with him, unexpected and exciting. I loved the way he touched me, I loved the dirty talk, the punishments, the praises, the unending foreplay. All of it.
“You didn't follow my instructions,” he chided, his warm hand cupping my cheek. “Was that on purpose, pretty girl? Did you want to be punished?”
I chewed on my lip, my heart slamming into my ribs.
“Answer me, Ria. Do you like being a brat?”
“Sometimes,” I breathed.Only when I play with you.
