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Owned By Fate(36)

By:Tessa Bailey


“Yes. While I was waiting.”

She looked guilty, like she’d been caught doing something very bad. Damn, that made him ache below the belt even more. Despite his anger, how could he be this close to her and not try to seat himself inside of her? He knew now how good she felt, how well she took him, making holding back infinitely worse. “I would have liked to have seen that.”

“Are we going to talk about the article or pretend it didn’t happen?”

As always, her directness turned him on. “No, we’re not going to talk about it. That’s what you’d like to do, though, isn’t it?” His voice sounded tight to his own ears. “Talk about it until you feel better about lying?”

“I didn’t lie in the article,” she said quickly.

“No, just to yourself.” Jonah took a careful breath, aware that the situation was going somewhere he hadn’t planned and that he needed to dial it back. To remember why he’d come. “That’s not what this is about. I think I was very clear about what I wanted in my note.”

Her red tongue skated out to wet her lips. “I don’t understand.”

A pang in his chest was coupled with an overwhelming need to soothe. It had been there since last night, demanding to be obeyed. This wouldn’t be his usual process—he’d known that ahead of time. “Come sit on my lap.”

She only looked unsure for a beat before tossing her purse onto the floor and kneeling on the seat beside him. Jonah hooked an arm around her waist and drew her down, settling her bottom on his thighs and leaning her against his chest. Already their breaths were punctuating the air around them, oxygen being sucked in and heaved out from the simple contact.

Ordering himself to focus, Jonah slid his hand into her hair and began to massage the back of her head. Her mouth popped open on a gasp, eyes sliding closed. Jonah laid his mouth against her ear and spoke quietly. “Does your pussy hurt a little from satisfying me, Caroline?”

She swayed in his lap with a moan, but he steadied her with his chest. “Yes.”

Using the fingers of one hand to rub circles into her scalp, he allowed the other to trail up her thigh. Not too high. Not enough that he wouldn’t be able to stop. “Such a good girl, letting me lick as long as I wanted. You tasted perfect, baby. Smooth and sweet.”

Her thigh flexed and shook underneath his hand. “Should I say thank you?”

“Yes, but only if you say it the right way.”

Frustration clouded her pretty features but fled after a moment. “Thank you, Master,” she whispered, as if someone might overhear. “For saying I taste good.”

Goddamn, those words out of her mouth almost demolished his self-control, but he bit her earlobe gently instead. “I’d like you to get on your knees, facing away from me. Lay your cheek down on the carpet.” He ran his open mouth up the side of her neck, loving the way her head tilted automatically. “Then I’d like you to pull up your skirt and show me where I gave you the paddle last night.”

Her green eyes flew to his, full of uncertainty and unwanted excitement. His view from above allowed him to see down the front of her blouse to her breasts, where they swelled over the top of her bra, barely containing them. She loved this. She wanted it, whether or not she would confess it. “I can’t do that,” she breathed.

In slow degrees, he let his fist tighten in her hair until she whimpered. “You will do as you’re told.”

As if she’d only been waiting for the choice to be taken away, to absolve herself of any responsibility, she fell onto the floor in front of him. She cast him a sultry look over her shoulder before bending forward, placing her cheek on the floor and raising her ass in the air. The sight of those hands curling around the hem of her skirt and dragging the material up to her hips had him gripping the seat until his knuckles turned white. For the love of God, she was glorious all on her own, but with his marks on her, she was transcendent. Her delicate skin was pink, just enough to assure him he hadn’t been too rough.

His body moved of its own accord. He fell to his knees behind her, smoothing a hand over what he’d done. The evidence of what she’d allowed. Remembering part of his purpose, he slipped the lotion from his pocket, squeezed some into his palm, and warmed it by rubbing his hands together. As he did so, his eyes were drawn to the black garter around her thigh. It was starting to feel like his own version of a collar, but he had a feeling he’d better keep that thought to himself. The strip of matching black silk shielding her flesh consumed his attention then. He watched the material drag over her pussy as he massaged the lotion into her sore bottom, her thighs trembling at his touch.