Forbidden To Say No - The Billionaire's Plaything (An Erotic Romance Novel) by Ashley Spector

Author:Ashley Spector [Spector, Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Forbidden Fruit Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I don't even realize he's gone until it's too late. I spin myself around, turning myself on my hanging wrists, finding him standing with the curtain rail in his hands, looking as menacing as always.

Slap, goes the plastic railing, whipped against the quivering flesh of my ass in a deft, brutal motion. I scream into my gag, digging my nails into the abrasive cords that restrain me. Like a good girl, I turn myself back around, facing the back of the armoire once again, giving him a large and complete target to take out his sexual frustrations upon.

Slap! I bite down upon the tangerine, feeling streams of citric juices fill my mouth, swallowed with mindless compulsion. I wish I could scream out; I wish I could let him, and everybody in this building know just how this makes me feel. I wish I could yell obscenities and curses that would make even the crudest movie producer blush. I wish I could lose myself to the pain and the tension, losing every semblance of conscious thought and wrap my body around Daniel. I wish I could predict just when another deafening, stinging, reddening blow would hit, and dispel all of this waiting tension. But you can't always get what you want.

Slap, once more.

And again.

My ass shudders and trembles against the pain, clenching down upon the root of ginger inside my ass even more so, arousing yet another tidal wave of pained pleasure. I feel a procession of tears streaming down my face, as I begin to lose my mind to the impatient lust that threatens to overcome me. All I want is him; to ravage me and brutalize me exactly how I fantasize.

Suddenly the curtain rod drops to the floor; he tires of it. I catch my breath, snorting through my nose loudly and most definitely unattractively. He instead goes to the paint cans in the corner, opening them with the blades of the scissors, before dipping the shiny metallic blades within. I'm too far ensconced within my own world to care right now. I can almost hear myself squelching wetly as I adjust my position, resting my whole weight on my left knee this time; I'm a fucking mess.

"Here" he says, spinning me back around to face the rest of the room, and the paint-dripping blades of the scissors he holds. "You're a work of art."

He paints an assortment of shapes on me, placing one palm on the side of my hips, arousing just enough sexual tension in me to make me clamp down on the root of ginger once again, only to produce yet another burst of burning, searing pain. It's only when I'm finished do I realize what he's written.

Danjel? He has a funny way of writing the i, curling the bottom around into a j almost. I don't know why it leaps out at me like it does. Whatever; the sight is quickly burnished from my mind as soon as he rises from his knees, back to my face, peering into me with those gorgeous, flaming blue eyes.

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