She reached up to the middle of her back and pulled at the string to untie the bow. Then she lifted both hands to her neck, undid that bow as well, and the skimpy top slid off her to the ground.
She stood there in only her panties, her hands still behind her head, her hip cocked to one side and a sexy little smile on her face. Her nipples were hard, her areolae tight and puckered, and all he wanted to do was stand up and take one of those perfect tits in his mouth and suck until she felt it so damn intensely that she came in his arms.
Soon, he thought. But not yet.
"Slide your hand down inside your panties," he ordered, then watched her mouth open as she gasped in pleasure when her finger skimmed over her clit. He watched her touch herself, stroking his cock as she did, and getting harder and harder as he imagined the feel of her. The heat of her.
"That's it, baby. Play with your clit. Tell me when you're close."
Her posture tightened as she touched herself, her breathing coming faster and faster. She was close--and damned if he wasn't, too. He wanted to watch her explode. Wanted to see the way her face lit as she went over the edge.
But that wasn't the game. Not yet. And the moment she whispered, "Now," he ordered her to stop and pull her hand away.
She whimpered, but she complied, and her easy obedience made him all the more hard.
He stood, still fully dressed, his cock straining painfully against his jeans. "Why did I make you stop?"
With a little sigh, she licked her lips. "To tease me."
"Oh no, baby," he said, stepping right in front of her and running his fingertip lightly over her breasts, making her sigh, then roughly flicking her left nipple and changing her sigh to a startled little cry. "Not to tease, but to punish."
He watched as she closed her eyes, her throat moving as she swallowed, then he took her arms and lifted them above her head, until she was the way he wanted, hands clasped, body stretched up, her back slightly arched. Beautiful. And his.
"Why am I punishing you?"
"I--I don't know."
Her eyes were still closed and so she wasn't expecting it when he spanked her tit, eliciting a surprised cry. He kept his eyes on her, watching her reaction. He'd never done that before, and he'd stop if she wanted him to. But goddamn it, he hoped she didn't want to. She'd promised him she'd welcome whatever he needed, and right now--tonight--he needed this. He needed her.
He needed her to be his. Completely. Fully. No holds barred.
He moved closer, cupping both her breasts and squeezing, then lowering his mouth to suck on the nipple of the tit he'd just spanked. He released his hand from her other breast and slid it down until his fingers dipped beneath the band of her panties and he found her soaked, her clit swollen and so sensitive that she shuddered at the softest of touches.
He bit back a smile; apparently she liked it just fine.
"Why am I punishing you?" he repeated after he drew his mouth off her breast, scraping her nipple with his teeth as he did so.
She continued to hold her arms above her head, and he couldn't help but smile at how well she was obeying. "Because I was bad."
"How were you bad?"
"Because of what I did. Hanging up on Dad, and--"
"No." He cupped the back of her head. "Open your eyes. Look at me. No," he repeated when she complied, then watched as the relief flooded through her when she realized that he meant it. "Why?" he repeated, this time more gently.
Her teeth dragged over her lower lip as she considered the question. And then he saw the moment she knew the answer. "Because you didn't like me dancing with another man."
"I damn sure didn't," he said, fisting her hair and tugging her head back, leaving her neck exposed to his mouth. He shoved her thong to the side and thrust two fingers inside her, so that he was holding her in place by the pressure on her hair and her pussy. He knew it was awkward. He knew she felt unbalanced; hell, she was. With her hands still above her head and her weight shifted, if he let go she'd tumble to the ground.
Which was exactly what he wanted--for her to be completely in his control. "You're mine," he whispered, then trailed kisses along her exposed throat, alternating soft busses that made her moan with sharp bites. "Mine," he repeated. "Hell, I just paid a few billion dollars for you." He didn't mention that by the same argument, she'd paid a few billion for him. They both knew that he belonged to her as fully and completely as she did to him. But right now, he was the one in charge.
"Tell me I'm right," he demanded. "Tell me I own you."
"You're right. You own me. I'm yours."
The words rolled through him, filling him. Hell yes, she was. "What does that mean?"
"Only you. Whenever. However. Anytime. Anywhere."