Insatiable: A Cloverleigh Farms Standalone by Melanie Harlow

Author:Melanie Harlow [Harlow, Melanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MH Publishing
Published: 2019-11-10T16:00:00+00:00

He teased me with his hand all the way home. I was so hot and bothered by the time he pulled into his garage, I hoped he’d fuck me right there in the front seat.

But he had other ideas.

“Don’t move,” he told me.

I stayed where I was, and he came around to open the passenger door. Then he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me out of the car. “You’re coming with me.”

His grip was tight, and he moved with long, quick strides toward the house, almost like he was angry. I could barely keep up. He unlocked the back door without letting go of me, pushed me inside, and slammed it behind us.

Then he let me go.

It was pitch black inside the kitchen. I couldn’t see a fucking thing. From the spare bedroom, Renzo began to growl. “Noah?” I whispered, moving deeper into the room, my skin prickling with a mix of uncertainty and anticipation. “Where are you?”

Suddenly I found myself being spun around to face the wall, my arms being twisted behind me, and something being snapped around my wrists.

Oh my God. Handcuffs.

He pressed close behind me and spoke low in my ear. His voice was deep and commanding. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything on my body can and will be used against you.”

“Oh, fuck,” I whispered.

“But feel free to scream if you want. No one will hear you.” He flattened his body against mine, pressing his erection against my hip. “Bad girls who break the rules need to be taught a lesson.”

“What lesson?” My voice trembled.

“Actions have consequences.” He grabbed a fistful of my hair and tightened his fingers at the base of my skull. “And sometimes consequences are painful.”

I winced at the sting on my scalp.

“But they can feel good too.” With his other hand he reached beneath my sweater and unhooked my strapless bra with an easy flick of his fingers. It fell to the floor as he filled his palm with one breast, kneading it gently. My nipples were tingling and tight, and I cried out when he pinched one. “See?”

I wanted to nod, but he was pulling my hair so hard I couldn’t even move my head. The pain was enough to bring tears to my eyes, but then his other hand was under my skirt again, his fingers pushing aside the damp silk of my panties.

With some kind of cop move that made me gasp, he kicked my heels apart so my feet were planted wide. “That’s it. Spread your legs for me like a bad girl should.”

Then his fingers were sliding in and out of me again, and I whimpered as he rubbed slick, hot circles over my clit. My brain was torn between focusing on the pleasure between my legs, the pain on my scalp, and the frustration of being completely at his mercy. I’d never experienced anything like this before, never been treated like a bad girl, a prisoner, a plaything.

Panic hovered at the edges of my mind, but my body responded to his touch, and I moved against his fingers.

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