Bash, Volume III by Candace Blevins

Author:Candace Blevins [Blevins, Candace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Excessica
Published: 2015-11-20T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Angelica

Three hours later, I was so pissed at Bash that thoughts of caving his skull in were beginning to sound reasonable.

A little light spanking, lots of tongue, some fingers, and then he finally fucked me, but he did my ass and he never got anywhere near my clit.

Still, I could’ve come a thousand times — okay, maybe three or four dozen times — except every time I got close, he fucking backed off until it went away.

I was so damned close when he came in my ass, but he held my hands so I couldn’t play with myself, and then wouldn’t even let me pull my legs together, or dry hump him while he recovered from his orgasm. He walked me to the bathroom with him, bent me over the tub, cleaned me up, and then put fucking boxing gloves on my hands, so I couldn’t play with myself.

“You know I can change my hands and get them out, right?”

“If you do anything to intentionally get yourself off, you’ll feel my belt thirty five times. If it’s an accident, we’ll deal with it another way, but if you do it on purpose, you’ll pay. The gloves are so you don’t play with yourself in your sleep.”

Steaming mad, I told him, “I didn’t agree to this.”

“I’m aware.”

“Then take these off my hands and leave me the fuck alone so I can get myself off!”

He gave me a cocky-assed grin and said, “I’ll get you off Sunday night, and it’ll be the best orgasm you’ve ever had. You’re stuck with me until then, though, and I’m going to keep you on edge every minute I can.”

I could still get myself off with the gloves — there was enough padding I could dry hump them, press them into my clit and get enough sensation. Though, I mused… boxing gloves are made for hitting, aren’t they? I looked at him a few seconds, debating, and then decided to go for it. He wanted to be a bully and force rules on me I hadn’t agreed to? Then he’d better be prepared to deal with a pissed-off girlfriend. He’d put boxing gloves on me, so I’d box. Dammit.

I looked to the door quickly, like I’d heard something, and when he looked, I punched. I got three hits in — two of them fucking solid, and then backstepped when he reached for me, then faked with another punch and kicked the shit out of his knee.

I heard muscles and ligaments tearing, heard his cry of pain as he went down, and I turned my back on him and stalked into my living room, too pissed to feel guilty. I changed my hands, let the gloves slide off, and shifted them back until I had fingers to wiggle.

I smelled him changing in the bedroom, and he was in wolf form when he walked into the living room. His body language was relaxed, and I didn’t smell anger coming off him, so I sat in my chair, tired, and told him, “I didn’t agree to this.

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