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25
ISABELLA
“You’re driving me crazy,” Niall says quietly, his voice low and rough. “I should hate you for what you’ve done; you know that.” It’s not a question, and he’s right, I do know—but I still feel tears burning behind my eyelids at the thought.
“But you don’t,” I whisper.
“No. God help me, I don’t, lass. I’m angry with you, that’s for certain, but I don’t hate you. And I can’t seem to stop wanting you, no matter how much I try. But I told you—when we get to Boston, you’ll have your own apartment. This—” he waves at the room, at me, at the bed, as if to indicate the desire I arouse in him, “—will stop. You understand that, right? You get that we’re not going to be together, that we’ll co-parent, that I’ll take care of you, but I mean it when I say I’m going to divorce you? That this is a temporary measure to keep you safe? This isn’t a real marriage, Isabella, and what you just did—”
“You mean the shower.”
Niall runs a hand through his hair, his frustration evident on his face. “Yes, I mean the bloody shower, Isabella. You came in there, knowing what it would mean. Knowing it would make me want you when I even tried to get separate beds for us tonight. I—” He grits his teeth, shaking his head. “You make me want to throw you onto that bed and memorize every inch of your gorgeous fucking body, and you make me want to throttle you, all at once. And you’re damned lucky—”
“What?” I tilt my chin up, feeling a streak of that old rebelliousness rush through me. “Why am I lucky, Niall?”
“The kind of men I work for, with—even the ones who care for their wives, do you know what they’d do with you? How they handle rebellious wives who insist on tormenting their husbands?”
I don’t, exactly, but from the few romance novels I managed to sneak, I have some idea. “Is that what you want to do to me?” I ask tremulously. “You want to…spank me? Punish me? Hurt me? Because I’ve hurt you? Because I want you?”
Niall lets out a shaky breath, his eyes glinting with some dark heat that sparks something in me, too. I feel my thighs squeeze together, a trembling, dangerous excitement running through me.
“I would never hurt you, Isabella,” he says quietly. “And I’ve never cared much for spanking women. But yes. I want to punish you for what you did. I want to hear you cry and beg, but not because I’m causing you pain.”
I blink up at him, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?” I ask softly.
Niall’s jaw clenches, the muscle in it leaping as he looks down at me with those heated blue eyes. “I want to pleasure you until you cry, Isabella, edge you until you’re begging to come, make you plead and promise anything if I’ll just give you an orgasm. And then, when you’re dripping wet and clenching and begging me for anything, I want to fuck you so hard you’ll feel the imprint of my cock in your pussy for days.”
His voice ripples over me, thick and rough, promising things that don’t really sound like a punishment at all. “What if I want that?” I ask softly. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
Niall’s eyes narrow, and I feel him tense, his hands clenching and unclenching as he stares down at me. “Fuck,” he breathes, and when I look down, I can see that he’s rock hard again, his cock peeking through the fly of his boxer briefs. “Christ, Isabella, you’re driving me mad.”
I reach out slowly, running my finger over the taut flesh of his cock where I can see it. He shudders, a sound escaping his throat that’s nearly a growl, and then his hand shoots out, grabbing my arm. “Fine,” he bites out. “I’ll show you how pleasure can be a punishment then, Isabella. If you want it so badly.”
He leads me towards the bed, shoving his boxers down with one hand and stepping out of them as we go. His cock slaps against his abs, hard and eager, and with one swift movement, he grabs the edge of my skirt, yanking it down so that it falls to the floor and leaves me naked, too. His every movement is quick and sharp, almost angry, and he turns me to face him at the edge of the bed.
“Can I tie you up?” he asks, and for the first time with Niall, real fear flashes through me. But at least he’s giving me the choice—or I think he is, anyway.
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Please, no. Javier did that—and it was awful. He tied me up and spread something over me that made me horribly aroused and left me like that, squirming and crying, and I couldn’t escape. I don’t want to feel that again.”
Niall’s teeth clench, and I see a dark fury pass over his face. “I should have killed that bloody fucking bastard when I had the chance,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “I’m fucking sorry I didn’t, Isabella. I should have killed him slowly.”
“You got me free instead,” I say softly. “And I’m so glad you did. Whatever else you want to do to me—"
“I’m going to torture you with pleasure, that’s for sure,” Niall says darkly. “But I won’t tie you up for it. Instead, you’ll keep your hands at your sides, and if you move—to touch yourself or me unless I give you permission, I’ll stop. I won’t let you come, and I won’t fuck you. You can go to bed aching for it, if you disobey. Do you understand?”
I could tell him no right now. I could tell him that I don’t want that, that it doesn’t sound arousing, but it would be a lie. And I’d promised myself I’d never lie to him again.
“Get on the bed, Isabella, unless you want to tell me that you don’t want this. In which case, we’ll go to bed and head for the airfield in the morning.”
I wonder if those other women, the ones Niall had mentioned being punished, had gotten a choice. I doubted it. He’s giving me one—but in the end, it’s not really a choice.
The throbbing ache between my legs has already answered for me.
Slowly, I climb onto the bed, lying back on the pillows. “Spread your legs,” Niall instructs, moving to the end of the bed. “Show me how wet your pussy already is, Isabella.”
I feel my cheeks flush as I obey him, spreading my legs wide. My clit throbs at the thought of exposing myself so lewdly to him, letting him see the damp swelling flesh, my little clit peeking out, already hungry for his touch.
“Reach down and open yourself wider, Isabella,” Niall says firmly. “Let me see all of it, but don’t touch your clit. If you do, we stop now.”
