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I tried to kick out again, hissing through clenched teeth.
“Are those jeans bothering you?” he asked. “If they are, we can take them off.”
Before I had a chance to object, that’s exactly what he did, wrapping his arm around me and lifting me off the floor so he could drag the pesky material away.
“You are an asshole,” I repeated, although I was surprised there wasn’t any emotion in my voice.
“You aren’t the first woman to tell me that and I doubt you’ll be the last,” he said, his voice dripping with lust, and the mirror told no lies.
He was fully aroused, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the thick bulge between his legs.
Chuckling, he shifted his hold around my waist, keeping me in position, forcing me to lean further over as he cracked the strap against my already aching bottom so many times I lost count. His rhythm was perfect, just like a metronome. By the time he was finished with the volley, I was dancing back and forth from boot to boot, the explosive heat jetting down both legs.
That wasn’t the only fire burning within me, my pussy aching, clenching and releasing several times. I stared at the mirror, watching my flush of shame turning into one of raw, unbridled lust.
“You’re wet, little bird,” he murmured. “Your pussy is glistening.”
I couldn’t deny it. My nipples were hard as rocks, the ache extending all the way into my stomach. Breathless, I blinked several times, uncertain what he was going to do. When he did the unthinkable, sliding his hand between my legs, it was all I could take. A single moan dripped from my lips as if the man had been a longtime lover. I slouched against the counter, my breathing so ragged stars were floating in front of my eyes.
“Do you know what they say about women who become wet when being punished?” he asked in a gruff voice, the deep baritone only adding to the vibrations humming in my tummy.
I couldn’t speak for fear of falling down the rabbit hole all over again. He was so handsome, every square inch of him what fantasies were made of.
All the chastising I’d done about fucking a stranger in the middle of a snowstorm was tossed out the window. Now I was dancing in flames, about ready to be doused with gasoline.
And a part of me couldn’t care less.
“Mmmm…” he continued as he rolled a single finger around my clit. “That only experiencing pain can allow them to have any kind of pleasure. Do you think that’s true?”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to regain my resolve and what was left of my mind. I was clearly out of control. Maybe I needed the harsh punishment to get my act together. “Never.”
“Maybe I should test out the theory.” He cracked the belt four times in rapid succession, the pain now exhilarating.
It was crazy, the sensations unlike anything I’d ever imagined.
Or wanted.
When he returned his hand between my legs, pushing his palm into my swollen folds, he almost brought me to an orgasm. How was that possible? He rubbed up and down and another fog developed in front of my eyes. I tried to concentrate on anything else, but as I shifted my gaze from left to right, I was forced to accept just how much I wanted the man’s touch.
His kiss.
His cock.
His mouth.
I was in way over my head, but I loved every second of it.
As he continued rubbing, he never blinked as he watched me, pushing me to the point I was digging my nails into the ugly Formica.
When he placed the thick strap on the counter, shifting his arm around the front of my legs and yanking me backward off my feet, I was forced to throw back my hands. As I tried to wrap my fingers around his thick thighs, another wave of desire kicked in.
The look on his face was carnal.
As if I was his possession.
Phoenix knew exactly what he was doing to me and the second he rolled the thumb of his other hand around my clit, it was all I could take.
“Oh. Oh. Oh…” As a climax rushed into me, the only thought that slammed into my mind was one of utter filth.
