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She turns to face me holding my forearm between us. I let go of the dress and it drops down to her shins. I expect her to back away so when she doesn’t, I lean deeper into her space and glance down at her hand around my arm.
She follows my gaze and as if just realizing she’s still holding on to me, she drops my arm.
I grin. “Don’t test me, Isabelle.”
Her eyes search mine and there’s a moment I see her falter, but she steels herself. Stands up taller.
“Are you threatening me?”
I tilt my head to the side. “A challenge. I like it. Is this because of my comment earlier? That you’re no match for me?”
“No. I don’t care what you think.” It’s a lie. I see it in the way her jaw tenses and her posture shifts.
“Have you been stewing all day over something I said?”
She searches my eyes. “Like I said, I don’t care what you think of me.”
“No, of course not.”
I look down at those nipples again, straining against the fabric of the dress. I bring the back of my hand to one, brush it lightly and instantly, she steps back. A flush of red creeps up her neck, the blue of her eyes darken as the pulse at her neck throbs.
I smell adrenaline, fear and rebellion. And underneath it all, arousal. I breathe it in. “Now slip off your panties and hand them to me.”
“What will you do if I don’t? Put me back in that cellar room? And then I miss the party? I may prefer the ghost downstairs to—”
“No.” I walk toward her, and she backs right into one of the posts of her bed, trapping herself. Her hands move to my chest, and she tests, pushing a little. I don’t budge. But she doesn’t pull her hands away. “I’m talking about a different sort of reminder. You’re going to the party. Make your choice.”
She clears her throat, tilts her head back to look up at me. “I won’t be complicit in your weird game.”
“Funny, because you know what I think?”
“I don’t care what you think.”
“I think my weird game is turning you on. A taste,” I say and reach my hand behind her to smack her ass.
She gasps, her body jerks into mine. She’s clearly not expecting that. Her hands move to cover her butt.
“What are you doing?”
Using my chest to pin her to the post, I tilt my head to look at her. Her gaze falters when it meets mine. She’s embarrassed.
“Like I said, that was a taste. Would you like the real reminder before you do as I say because either way, you will obey. Ball is in your court.”
Her neck and cheeks are bright red and she presses her lips together.
I raise my eyebrows in anticipation of her answer.
“I’d rather you put me down in that cellar than obey you.”
“I’m glad you said that,” I say and reach around to take her wrists in one hand. I sit down on the bed, hauling her over my lap. She struggles but it takes hardly any effort at all to hold her down.
I look at her like this, over my lap, both wrists in one of my hands as she twists and turns. She cranes her neck to look up at me and I drag my gaze from her ass to her face. “Ready?” I smile, raise my free arm to spank her ass.
“Wait!” She calls out as my hand comes down. It’s not a hard smack. I think she’s more embarrassed than anything else, but she still yelps. I give her a minute then do it again.
“Stop!”
“I can go all night,” I tell her casually.
