Chapter Eight

 

 

Oriana awoke with the virtual sunrise, still in Jordan’s embrace. She gently untangled herself from his hold and tiptoed to the bathroom.

After completing her usual morning rituals, she ventured into the hall and made her way to the kitchen in search of coffee. Everyone’s still asleep. Rather than wait, she took matters into her own hands. A few minutes later, she leaned against the counter, watching the coffee machine percolate her most favorite caffeinated drink in the world.

“Good morning, honey.”

Jonathan strolled in with a smile on his face. He gave her a brief kiss on the forehead, then reached above her, opening a cabinet and removing two mugs. Placing them on the counter, he headed for the fridge.

“Good morning to you,” she replied, touched by his sweet, husbandly greeting. “You seem chipper.”

“Always. I’m a morning person.” He retrieved the creamer, and came back to her side. “Of course, my morning is made that much better when there’s an incredibly beautiful woman waiting for me in my kitchen, wearing nothing by her sexy…” His gaze swept up and down her body. “…boxers and t-shirt.”

Rather than giggle at his flirty teasing, she stared at the dusky smudge under his eye, the physical proof of how hard she’d decked him the night before. “God, Jonathan, I’m sorry. I—” She snapped her mouth shut and gazed at the floor, mortified.

“Hey, hey,” he chided, placing the crook of his finger under her chin and nudging it up so she’d look at him. “What did I tell you last night?”

That it wasn’t my fault. But it was her fault. If she had not freaked out in the first place, he wouldn’t be sporting a shiner now. “I’m the one who panicked and slugged you—”

“No, Ori. I don’t want to hear another word about this unless it’s you telling me that it’s not your fault.” He lowered his hand and reached around her to collect the sugar bowl. “Jack should have been more careful. There was no need for him to sneak up on you like that.”

Oriana melted at the protective, somewhat authoritative tone his voice had taken on. Jonathan was the exuberant, carefree brother, the one with a devil-nay-care charm and golden tongue capable of making even the most resolute good girl harbor sinful thoughts.

And lately, she wasn’t that resolute.

Jonathan filled both mugs with dark, steaming liquid, and added lots of cream and sugar to hers, just the way she liked it. He handed her the coffee.

“I wonder where Jordan is.”

“Sleeping,” she said, sipping from her cup.

“No, I stopped by his room. He’s not there.”

“He slept in my room.”

Jonathan raised his eyebrows. “Really? Wow, I’m proud of him.”

“We slept together, but he didn’t…” She smiled. “He didn’t ‘dick me down’ as you so eloquently like to put it. Last night, when I came out of the shower, he was already asleep on my bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake him up, so I let him stay.”

Clucking his tongue in disappointment, Jonathan placed his mug in the sink. “I’ll be sure to have a talk with him, let him know how rude that was. How dare he go to sleep without attending to your needs first?”

“Leave your brother alone. You tease him too much. You’re going to give him a complex.”

Jonathan took the coffee from her hands, speaking before she could protest the loss. “How will he learn social graces if I don’t teach him?” he asked, placing her cup in the sink as well.

She stared at him in disbelief for a moment, and then burst into laughter. “So let me get this straight: You’re going to tell him that the polite thing to have done was fuck me.”

“Exactly.” He cupped her elbow and guided her to the kitchen island. “Or, at the very least, made sure you got yours.”

“Wow, Jonathan,” she drawled drily. “You should really have your own ‘Dear Jon’ newspaper column or something. Think of how many others in the world could benefit from your expertise on good manners and proper etiquette.”

He suddenly yanked her boxer shorts down to her knees.

She gasped. “What—?”

Lifting her by the waist, he sat her on the island’s surface.

Oriana snatched a fistful of waistband, pulling up on the boxers as he tried to tug them down her legs. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, her voice coming out a little more breathy than she’d intended.

Jonathan worked at prying her fingers off the elastic. “I’m going to correct my brother’s oversight,” he explained reasonably. “Don’t misunderstand. This is definitely not a hardship. It’s a responsibility I gladly take on.”

What? “You want to fuck me? Here? Now?”

“I haven’t had breakfast yet. I was hoping to satisfy my hunger.”

The double entendre was not lost on her. Her mouth dropped opened and shock slackened her grip. She watched in surreal fascination as he slid the shorts off her legs and tossed them aside with an exaggerated flair.

No, she had to be dreaming. There was no way this could be really happening.

He parted her knees and cool air brushed against inner heat, the conflicting sensations snapping her out of her stupor.

“Bu-but you can’t,” she stuttered. “You can’t do this—we can’t do this!”

Jonathan captured her calves and, bending her legs at the knees, lifted them up, forcing her body to tilt back like a seesaw. She flung her hands behind her, placing her palms flat on the island’s surface to counter the teeter and support her upper body.

“Why can’t I?” He spread her legs wide and placed the bottom of each foot on the edge of the counter, pressing firmly on her ankles in silent indication that they should, and would, remain there, if she knew what was good for her.

The back of his knuckles glided slowly, gently, from her inner ankle all the way to up to her inner thigh. Her pussy tingled in response to the teasing seduction, and her core throbbed with anticipation.

“Why can’t we?” he murmured.

Why? Why?

She suddenly couldn’t remember why?

“It’s—it’s… I don’t know! It’s unsanitary!”

With a single fingertip pressed in between her slick folds, he effortlessly glided up, and down, and up again. She moaned, wanting nothing more than to wallow in the pleasure he provided, then moaned again, but this time in despair. She should be stopping this, not weeping with arousal.

“Have no fear, my love. Jordan cleaned up after last night’s dinner, and he always wipes down the counters with disinfectant. It’s safe for you. As for the kitchen, I’ll clean everything again when I’m done eating.”

He then strummed her swollen clit with his thumb, and she held back her urge to rock against his hand. “But your brothers—”

“Do not care that we are using the kitchen, either.”

He slipped a finger into her passage, pumping in and out, coaxing her body to respond to him regardless of how hard she willed otherwise.

“You’re pure silk, Ori. Soft. Beautiful. Exquisite.”

“We can’t, Jonathan. I slept with your brother, with Jack, just yesterday.”

“Jack won’t mind. I promise you.” A second finger joined the first, increasing the filling pleasure building swiftly within her channel. “Unless, of course, there is something I don’t know. Do you all have some agreement that binds you two together exclusively?”

She bit her lip and shook her head.

“I didn’t think so.”

Jonathan lowered his head, his hot breath teasing the sensitized skin of around her sex. “Relax, enjoy.” He trailed his tongue in meandering swirls. “This is just as much for you as it is for me…and my brothers.”

When he suckled her clit, she nearly shot off the island. His free hand landed on her stomach and pinned her down. His fingers continued to thrust into her while he lapped at her pussy with slow, tortuous strokes.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she panted. “This is so wrong.”

“I have never forced a woman to endure my attention, and I will not start today.” He didn’t retreat, but he didn’t continue. Freezing in place, a very steamy place, he captured her gaze. “If you truly want me to stop, just say the word.”

The word! The word! The word!

Hell, she couldn’t do it. She wanted this more than anything. She wanted him more than anything. And Jonathan knew it. His eyes, alight with challenge, dared her to deny herself what her body was so clearly begging of him to do to her—for her.

She lowered her eyes and released a breath of consent.

Rising up, his lips captured hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth while he stroked her heat. She instantly found herself lost in the intoxicating taste of his kiss, helpless against the coaxing of his fingers.

Steadily, his hand increased its pace, forcing her body to hover dangerously on the edge of climax. It was almost sad how quickly she was succumbing. She was supposed to be strong, to resist his charms. Instead, she was moaning like a bitch in heat, her pussy grasping at his fingers and demanding more.

She loved it.

She loved him.

She loved everything about him.

She loved his control over her. She loved how quickly she yielded. She loved how her body responded to him. She loved how he touched her, moved her, summoned her passion, and dominated it effortlessly despite her attempts to deny him.

With her orgasm nearly upon her, she closed her eyes tight, too embarrassed by her lack of willpower to face him, yet that much more aroused by the notion of this shame, at the realization of how much power he truly had over her.

Like his older brother, Jonathan was a commanding lover. Ha! She was such fool to have ever thought his youth might work against him in this area. That she would have to teach him anything. She knew he would be a giving, sensitive lover, but she’d never expected this. She never expected to be writhing for his touch, creaming herself with every stroke of his hand, every flicker of his tongue. She never expected him to conquer her so completely.

She had allowed her body to be conquered for a second time in as many days. First Jack. Now Jonathan.

God, she was greedy. Her behavior was simply wanton. While she wasn’t necessarily a good girl by any stretch of the imagination, she hadn’t been this sexually uninhibited since college. It was one thing to be confident and secure with her body and her sexuality, it was another to give her body over to a man when, less the twenty-four hours earlier, she had done the same thing with his brother.

That naughty side of her pranced with wicked delight at the mere thought.

She was going to come.

“Come for us, Ori. Let us see you come. We want to see it.”

His sensual words shot through her body like a pinball on the spring launch. She cried out as wave after wave of pure ecstasy rolled over her, intense and utterly consuming. She writhed beneath Jonathan’s passionate onslaught as he continued to work her pussy, urging her to come again and again.

It seemed never-ending.

Jonathan didn’t stop summoning her pleasure until she was begging and pleading for him to cease. While her mind was willing, her body was simply unable to meet his demands any longer, no matter how much she wanted to. He had milked her dry.

Lowering her legs, he pulled her forward into his embrace. Oriana laid her head on his shoulder while he rubbed her back and nuzzled her hair.

“I’ve never a known a woman who gave so much of herself,” Jonathan murmured in her ear. “You are amazing.”

Yeah, she was ‘giving herself’ fairly easily, she thought. Yet, as much as she wanted to regret it, she didn’t. It had felt so right. Just as it had with Jack. And how it would probably feel when she slept with Jordan.

She mentally cringed.

Jesus! What the hell was wrong with her? Yesterday in the arms of one, now in the arms of another, and here she was already planning her next conquest!

“God, I’m a fucking slut,” she muttered.

She was suddenly nudged back.

“What?” Jonathan asked, looking beyond appalled.

Oriana blinked, confused by the astonishment in his eyes, then realized what she’d done.

“I’m sorry,” she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose as if it would somehow wipe away her stupidity. She offered him a small smile. “I was lost in my thoughts and I guessed I answered myself out loud. It was not in response to your compliment—which I thank you for by the way. But truly, you are the one who is amazing, not me.”

“But what did you say?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just scolding myself, you know, for being…” she searched for an appropriate word that would be less jarring. Whore? Tramp? Hussy?

Oh hell, why bother candy-coating. This was Jonathan.

“I said, ‘God, I’m a fucking slut’—”

“You said what?”

Jonathan’s somber gaze flicked past her, but Oriana didn’t have to follow it to know who’d spoken. She’d recognize that controlled, yet ominous, tone anywhere.

Closing her eyes, she tried to ward off the sweeping sense of doom that twisted her stomach and caused heart to thump hard in her chest. After all, she was an adult and could say whatever she wanted. Unfortunately, the reminder did little to quell the overwhelming apprehension she felt—an almost childlike anxiety that made her want curl up in Jonathan’s arms and hide from Jack’s displeasure.

She exhaled heavily. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

“Ori, why in the world would you ever describe yourself that way?” Jonathan chided as he gently lifted her off the island and set her on her feet. “You are beautiful, and sexy, and absolutely perfect in every way, and—”

Jack pulled her away from Jonathan and bent her over the island.

Jordan entered the room and rushed over, protesting.

Confused, Oriana stared at the hard surface just a few inches below her face. It took a few moments for her to register what exactly was going on—her new position, Jack’s large palm pressed firmly on her back, Jordan explaining to him that she had not healed fully from her fall yet…

Her mind finally connected the dots.

Jack intended to spank her.

Ah, hell.

Was she going to let him? Could she even stop him if she wanted to?

Fuck. Probably not.

The whole situation seemed so surreal that even her feelings about it were distant and subdued. Under the weight of “is this really happening?” shock, her muted emotions left her with a sense of calm acceptance.

But that was not a bad thing. At least she didn’t think so. She trusted them.

The discussion behind her grew more heated. She cranked her head and looked over her shoulder. The two younger brothers continued to argue while Jack listened without comment.

“It’s for the best,” Jonathan reasoned. “Ori needs to know what to expect should she decide to stay with us—what we will and will not tolerate. True, after this, she might never want to see us again, but it’s better to figure this out before things get any more serious between us.”

Jordan shook his head. “I know you love her, but she’s clearly not up to this—and I’m not talking about having to endure a behavioral modification. I’m talking about us. If what we’re doing is making her feel less worthy as a person, then maybe the best thing we can do for her is let her go.”

Jordan’s words, while meant to be noble, stabbed at her chest painfully, and suddenly what was once muted became extremely vivid.

“No. Don’t.”

The guys fell silent and turned.

“Don’t what?” Jordan asked.

The conversation she’d had with Jack about her candor and her lack of shame when it came to him floated through her mind, and she almost smiled at the irony. Because the reply she was about to give to would have never, ever left her lips before she met these men. Never. It would have seemed too much like begging, too desperate, and her pride would have never let her utter something so humiliating to any man.

“Don’t let me go. Don’t give up on me so easily. Don’t… Don’t break my heart like that.”

There, she said it, as cheesy as it may have sounded.

They guys stared at her, then glanced at each other in what seemed like a silent discussion. Jack removed his palm and pulled her back to her feet. Wrapping his hands around her waist, like she weighed nothing, sat her back on the island’s edge.

Rather than face the three of them, Oriana fastened her eyes on her fingers as they agitated the hem of her shirt.

“Look at us, Ori,” Jonathan commanded softly.

She peeked up at the tall wall before her, her cheeks growing warm.

“Tell us why you said what you said.”

And like that, warm became scalding. How did one explain such a thing?

“I, um, well… I slept with Jack yesterday and let you, um…pleasure me today.”

“Why do you feel guilty about finding pleasure with two men you desire who also desire you?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t feel guilty—but I should feel guilty. I feel guilty for not feeling guilty.”

“Jonathan scrubbed his face with his hand. “Okay, Ori. So you feel guilty about not feeling guilty about being with two men because?”

“It’s wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because this goes beyond having one man, then choosing another. Don’t you see?”

She took the blank stares she was receiving as an indication that they didn’t.

“Look, Jonathan. Last night, you and Jordan said you didn’t mind that I’d been with Jack, and this morning you told me Jack doesn’t care if you seduce me or not. Perhaps this ‘let the best man win’ mentality works for you all, but that just it… There is no best man. There never will be.”

Oriana lowered her gaze back to her lap and her fidgeting fingers. She knew they wanted her to face them when she confessed, but she just couldn’t do. Just couldn’t. Hell, when had she become such a coward?

“First I betrayed Jack by being with you. I should feel bad, but I don’t. I loved being with you. But, Jonathan—God, this is almost too horrible to admit—I’ll end up betraying you too. If Jack came to me again, I wouldn’t deny him. And worse, the two of you are not enough. I also want to be with Jordan. What does that make me if not a slut?”

“Oriana,” Jack said softly, capturing her attention. His impassive expression and low tone contradicted the fury she read in his hard eyes. “This is your last warning. Do not make that comparison again. Understand?”

That independent part of her wanted to defy his high-handed command, to call herself a ‘slut’ and every related adjective she knew just to prove to Jack that he didn’t have as much power over her as he’d like to believe. The woman inside, however, just wanted to burst into tears at the gentle rebuke. She wanted him to be pleased with her. She wanted to please him.

Did his approval really mean that much to her?

Jack must have sensed her warring defiance, because his glare intensified despite the neutrality of his expression.

“Do you understand, Oriana?”

Though his tone remained low, calm, the faint inflection indicated that he wasn’t going to let up until she gave him a proper verbal response. Did he really care that much? Or was he just being an overbearing brute?

Jack’s image blurred behind the veil of gathering tears and she bit her lip, her pride not wanting to concede, but her heart begging her to make things better. His disapproval actually hurt her feelings.

Are you always this honest and compliant?

Honest, always, compliant, never—not anymore. But for you, I’ll be both.

Her vision cleared as the silent drops slipped down her cheeks. “Okay,” she whispered.

“Great, Jack. You made her cry,” Jordan grumbled.

Jack gaze didn’t waver from hers. “Oriana needs to realize that we would never allow anyone to hurt her or disrespect her. She must understand that we will do whatever is necessary to protect her. Even from herself, if we must.”

So he cared that much?

Overcome by the significance of his declaration, she bowed her head and closed her eyes tight, then placed her hand over her mouth, hoping to contain the rush of emotion. But other than to mute her wretched gasping, her hand had little effect. Tears rapidly leaked out while her shoulders shook and her chest squeezed painfully.

Moments later, she felt the air shift, felt the warm strength of his presence, felt the gentle brushing of his fingers as they carefully swept back her hair.

“Come here,” Jack murmured, gathering her close and tucking her head under his chin.

She melted into him, crying into his chest while he rubbed her back. She rarely broke into waterworks, and even rarer for her to do it in front of witnesses. But since meeting these men, everything felt so much more intense, and right now, she was feeling very distraught.

“I-I’m sorry,” she choked out. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Jack’s chest rose beneath her head and then fell as he expelled his breath into her hair. He nudged her back. With both his hands cupping her face, he stared at her thoughtfully, wiping the moisture on her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“I’m not as good at this emotional stuff as Jon is,” he said gruffly. “But I want you to know that this is not a game to us. We truly care about you. Too much for us to play with you or your emotions in that way. Do you believe me?”

Sniffling, she nodded, dislodging welled tears that he caught as they spilled over.

“Then you will believe me when I say that you didn’t betray me, Jon, or Jordan by engaging the other. There is no nothing you need to feel guilty about concerning us in that matter. There is no need for you to choose between us. If anything, we’d prefer you didn’t. Do you understand what I mean when I say this?”

Oriana nodded again, secretly hoping beyond hope that she understood exactly what he meant.

“Having clarified that,” he continued, “I now need you to assure me that you’re okay with this situation. I want you to be completely honest. If you’re not comfortable with this type of relationship, say so now. Your comfort is more important to us than anything that may or may not happen. We want you to want this, not participate because you feel obligated to or because you’re too scared to say no.”

She was going to nod her affirmative, but he held her head in place.

“Let me hear you say the words.”

“I’m okay with this,” she whispered. “I want this.”

“If at some point you come to realize you feel differently, we want you to tell us immediately. We will not hold it against you if you change your mind. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Now, let us discuss the self-depreciating comment. Is it safe to assume that you’ve been harboring this thought for a couple of days, and had the slip not occurred, you would still be feeling this way? You would have never brought it to our attention of your own accord, right?”

“Yes,” she said softly.

Jack’s lips thinned, Jonathan cleared his throat quietly, and Jordan glanced away.

“Did I say something wrong again?” Frustration watered her eyes. Damn her tongue.

“No, Oriana, you didn’t.” Jack said. “You are being honest, which is what we want. We only ask that, in the future, you will please share your thoughts and feelings, especially your concerns or fears, as they come to you, not three days later. Had you told to us how you felt earlier, we could have addressed your concern before it evolved into personal disparagement, which is something we find unacceptable.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s over and done with. But it’s not to happen again, Oriana. From now on, you’ll be your usual forthcoming, candid self in all things, and you will let us know if there is even a hint of self-doubt. We expect complete honesty and openness from you. Understand?”

“I understand.”

Jack leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Good.”

On that pronouncement, he walked away. She watched him leave, a little overwhelmed by everything he’d said. But before she could think more on it, Jordan came up, claiming her attention.

“I’m sorry we failed you,” he said, tugging a lock of her hair in some half-hearted gesture of affection. Then Jordan retreated, following the path Jack had taken.

She stared after him as well, confused all to hell. “Failed me?”

Hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her from the island. “I’m sorry too, Ori. I didn’t realize… Please tell us next time.”

Oriana looked up at Jonathan. “I have no frigging idea what the hell just happened. Why are you apologizing? I should be the one apologizing. I’m the one who was in the wrong. God, I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I’m sure it must have been like slap in your face. You gave me such wonderful…and then I ruin it.”

“Ultimately, it was our failure. We should have known how you felt before now. We could have at least asked.”

He smoothed the shirt over her shoulders. “And Jack doesn’t blame you. Had that been the case, you would have been spanked regardless of Jordan’s objections. I should have told you the house rules about honesty, made sure you understood how important it is that you alert us to these kinds of things, and…” A sad smile touched his lips. “And I should have been more reassuring.”

Dammit, she was going to cry again. “Jon—”

He laid a single finger over her lips. “Just know that you can come to me with anything. Always. No matter what you tell me, it will not change how I feel. I love you. Nothing can change that.”

Oriana folded her hand over his and pulled it from her mouth.

“Really? You love me?”

“I think I fell in love the moment I found you sleeping in my bed.”

Taking her chin and tilting it up, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss was slow, languid, deep, and filled with promises—both erotic and heartfelt. Everlasting. She categorized every sensation, impressing it to her memory so she’d never forget this magical moment. She inhaled his scent of sunshine and citrus, savored his taste and her essence, the way his tongue caressed hers, the warm texture of his mouth. It seemed the kiss would never end, and she didn’t want it to.

Finally, he drew back slightly. “Perhaps we should revisit the bed that introduced us,” he breathed against her lips.

Upon her dazed nod, he smiled and swept her up into his arms. “Close your eyes, my love.”

Doing as he bade, her other senses honed in on her surroundings to compensate for the loss of sight. She registered his warmth, his steady strength, and the flow of the air brushing against her exposed skin as he carried her. Her ears perked at the faint click of a door closing behind them. The sensation of being lowered followed and supple fabric met her bottom. He pulled her shirt up and off as he guided her to lay back. A faint tropical perfume enveloped her body as Jonathan tenderly released his hold and her weight relaxed into the cushioned softness.

She felt him move away.

Quiet moments passed, and she sensed something was changing around her. It grew heavy, still, a feeling of expectation descended—a muted whoosh marred the silence. Instantly, a warm, gentle breeze blew and the scent of coconut floated by, sharing the current with the hum of swaying palm trees and romantic music.

Oriana dwelled in her self-imposed darkness as long as she could, not wanting to break the romantic spell he wove around them, but curiosity finally got the best of her.

She slowly opened her eyes.

Instead of the sunshine-bright cheeriness she was accustomed to, she found Jonathan’s bedroom cast in shadow, illuminated only by the flickering flames of aromatic candles. Disoriented, she rose up on her elbows. The virtual window showcased a beautiful deserted beach absorbed in the dusky hues of sunset—a scene made even more realistic by the dancing curtains that moved to and fro in the sultry tropical breeze.

Paradise at twilight.

The visual in combination with the surrounding scents and sounds was a feast for the senses. If she didn’t know better, she would think his room was located inside a beachfront condo in Hawaii rather than a cabin-in-a-cave in Alaska.

“Naughty girl,” Jonathan murmured as joined her on the bed, his hard, naked body pressing its heat into hers. “Did I say you could open your eyes?”

She gazed up at him in awe. “How did you do this?”

He smiled as his finger meandered across her chest. “A magician never reveals his tricks.”

Lowering his head, his lips followed the path his finger had traced. Oriana’s breath grew ragged as he sucked and flicked an aching nipple with his tongue. His hand cupped her other breast, gently kneading it and plying the nipple with firm strokes from his thumb.

To her surprise, Jonathan’s sinful mouth and wicked fingers hadn’t completely emptied her during breakfast. Her core tingled and slick moisture coated her swollen folds, her body eagerly preparing her for the promise of carnal delights.

Tangling her fingers in his hair, she lifted his head and guided his lips to hers. She explored his mouth thoroughly, tasting all she could of him before breaking the kiss and dragging her lips over his jaw.

“Tell me, Ori,” he whispered. “Are you a good girl or a naughty girl? Where does your pleasure reside?”

“Both,” she replied, licking and nipping his neck. “I want it all. Gentle and slow, hard and fast… think you can satisfy both sides of me?”

He laughed quietly. “Of course.”

Positioning himself at her entrance, Jonathan pressed forth, eliciting a gasp from Oriana as his hard cock slid home. Slow and tender, he made love to her body, building a steady rhythm that stroked the fires of her searing core until she tightened her legs around his waist, panting his name and clawing his back as she strove to reach the pinnacle of her desire.

Just as she was about to tumble over the edge into orgasmic oblivion, he withdrew his cock from her channel, leaving her at the brink.

Striving to catch her breath, her pussy throbbing painfully in emptiness, Oriana stared at Jonathan, waiting for him to tell her what was wrong, explain why he’d stopped.

He smiled and winked.

Sonofabitch!

He was playing with her.

“What the hell, Jonathan? Stop fucking arou—”

He rose up and flipped her onto her stomach. “Don’t move,” he ordered before leaving the bed.

She looked over her shoulder to find him collecting a bottle of lubricant and some condoms from the nightstand drawer. He laid the items next to a burning candle on the bedside table.

“What are you doing?

He slammed the drawer shut. “Good girls get sweet words and orgasms. Naughty girls get candle wax and a dick in their ass.”

Her mouth fell open in shock, even though her pussy clenched in excitement.

“Well, what were you expecting?” he asked as he took hold of her upper arm and ankle, then abruptly spun her so she lay across the bed. “I don’t dare put my dick in that dirty mouth of yours.”

Oh. My. God!

He captured her calves and drew her toward him. When her knees reached the edge of the mattress, he grasped her hips and pulled up and back, forcing her lower body to rise.

“Good girls don’t use dirty words. Since you do, I can only assume you’re a naughty girl. A naughty girl with a dirty, dirty mouth.”

How freaking hot!

It was a completely unexpected turn of events. She had imagined Jonathan as a sweet, sensitive lover—which he was. She just never thought he would ever be so… adventurous. Commanding. Definitely a surprise—but a pleasant one.

When she tried to raise her upper body to line it with the lower half, he used a flat palm to press her back down, forcing her to keep her “bowing” position.

“And do you remember what naughty girls get?” he asked.

She nearly choked. “A dick in their ass?”

“Exactly.”

He spread her wide. Moments passed and he did nothing but continue to stare. Her body melted under his appraisal, her channel flooding as it throbbed with hot desire and expectation. Moaning, Oriana pressed her face into the sheets, trying to slow her breathing and regain control of herself.

It was of no use.

“Please, Jonathan,” she whispered. “I’m begging you.”

He tsked. “Naughty girl. Why should I do anything to bring you pleasure?” he murmured. “I should be punishing you for your bad language.”

She shivered. If he kept talking to her this way, she might be able to come just from his words alone.

“Can’t you just make me do chores? Like clean the house or something?”

Jonathan sighed heavily. “You’re not allowed to clean. It’s against the house rules.”

A soft laughed escaped her throat.

There was a faint click. Cold liquid gel met with her soft, nether hole.

“I’m being serious,” he said. “You might be a naughty girl, but you’re still our princess.”

She pressed against his hand as he spread the minty smelling lubricant around. “So if I get caught doing the dishes?”

“You might find yourself bent back over the island.” He slipped a finger in her ass, probing gently. “So do your best to refrain from such things. Jack is very strict.”

“And if I follow the rules like I’m supposed to?”

“Then you get rewarded instead of penalized.”

She gasped as hot drops of liquid spilled over her ass cheeks.

The wax was not hot enough to burn her skin, but in contrast to the coolness of the lubricating gel, it seemed scorching. Her body instantly reacted to the polar stimulation, becoming intensely sensitized—more so than she thought ever possible. Her nipples tightened painfully as they scraped against the fabric of the sheet. Her pussy gushed, her essence seeping out, warm and sticky against her thighs.

Jonathan inserted a second finger into her ass, then brushed her clit with his free hand. She cried out, moving against him, her orgasm so close. Which is why she nearly fell into tears when he pulled away yet again, leaving her hovering, but unfulfilled.

“Please, Jonathan. Please, please, please… Please don’t leave me like this.”

“Relax, Ori. Enjoy the buildup. I promise I will not leave you hanging.”

While not exactly what her body wanted to hear, Oriana took comfort in his words. She knew he wouldn’t lie to her. He would take care of her needs.

And so it went, he teased and cajoled her until she writhed in desperation, crying, begging and pleading for him to take her, sure she would die if she didn’t come immediately.

Finally, she heard the soft tearing sound of the condom package, followed by his thickness pressing at the entry of her nether hole.

She climax as he slid his hard cock deep in her ass.

It didn’t stop there.

Each penetrating thrust prolonged the experience, forcing her to ride wave after wave of pure erotic bliss, her body literally shaking with the intensity of the rush accompanying the multiple orgasms.

It seemed never ending.

Only when she was limp with exhaustion, unable to do more than whimper with the powerful aftershocks, did Jonathan find his own pleasure.