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He chuckled. “Do you want me to torture your other nipple?”
“No!” she lied.
“Then open your mouth.”
Damn it.
Revolted, she clamped her mouth shut and shook her head.
“Bad girls get punished, Ophelia. Cooperate or you’re not going to like what happens.”
She turned her head away from him completely, but still saw him suck his fingers clean. When she glanced back, he slowly unbuckled his belt, giving her plenty of time to regret being difficult.
But did she regret it, or was she looking forward to it?
He drew his belt from the loops of his jeans, her attention taking in the erotic threat, as well as the painfully angled bulge below his waistband, the play of muscle and tattoo, the nipple rings, the impossibly broad shoulders . . .
Maybe she should have been scared, but the man exuded so much sexual energy that she was afraid she’d come just from watching him.
“I’d say I was sorry to have to do this, but I’d be lying,” he said. With a firm grip on her arm, he turned her to face into the darkness of the trees, ignoring her attempt to resist. She tried to twist to face him, but he held her where he wanted her. “If you don’t cooperate, this is just going to be worse for you, young lady.”
Young lady?
She opened her mouth to tell him off. The end of his belt sliding over the curve of her ass made her forget what she meant to say. He tapped her with it once, and it startled her even though she knew it was coming. But it was just a tap—it didn’t even sting. Unfortunately, the idea of it was hotter than the reality. Should she tell him to skip it before she got completely turned off?
The second slap of the belt was a little harder, but not really more interesting. She sighed.
“Am I boring you, little girl?”
“Well, no. Not exactly,” she began diplomatically. “I’m just not sure this is going to work for me.”
“I was trying to take things slow so I didn’t scare you.”
Scared? Not so much anymore.
“But it’s definitely not supposed to be boring,” he muttered and she saw him step back from her peripheral vision.
Fire streaked her ass. She squealed and went up on her toes, hovering there for a moment as she contemplated shimmying up the rope into the tree to escape.
An unintelligible sound escaped her and her ass clenched tight against the next blow. She forced herself flatfooted again, eager yet afraid.
“Still bored?”
A sharp laugh burst from her. “No!”
“Yeah, the way you’re shoving your sexy ass out for me clued me in.”
“I am not!” she objected, tipping her hips forward because he was right, even though it had been unintentional. “It’s just big.”
“It’s fucking perfect,” he sighed, trailing his fingers reverently along the bottom of her ass, where it met her leg. She shivered at the tickling sensation and she shifted in place.
He really thought her ass was perfect? Her first reaction was to argue with him, both since she didn’t feel the same way and because women were expected to modestly protest any compliment. But ruining the moment with a meaningless exchange of expected protocol was stupid, and she didn’t want to distract him from what he was doing. No, she desperately wanted him to keep going.
The belt connected with her ass again, but this time she was ready for it. She stayed in place, although a cry still escaped her.
“You were going to disagree with me, weren’t you?”
“No,” she gasped.
