Page 61 of Savage Vows

“You made me…” She shifts, and I take advantage of her movement to press hard against her clit, making her whimper. “And then you left.”

“Let me understand… Because I turned you on, you decided to take matters into your own hands?” I shake my head as I tut. “That’s not how this works, little rebel. Was I not clear that your pleasure belongs to me? That your orgasms are mine to give or deny?”

“I didn’t agree.”

“Not the point.”

But…” Her voice is hardly above a whisper.

“But?”

“You can’t put me in that kind of state and then leave.” Her eyes flash with a mix of defiance and desire. “I needed release so I could concentrate.”

Just like me at work.

“Did it help?”

Miserably she looks away. “No.”

It hadn’t for me either. “And how many times did you give yourself that release?” I ask, continuing in my low, demanding way.

She hesitates for a moment before confessing, “Twice.”

Once more than I’d allowed myself. “I see.” Still, her admission sends a surge of satisfaction through me. And I appreciate her honesty. Now I’m even more crazed than I was earlier as images of her pleasuring herself dart through mymind. I have to see for myself, watch her bring herself off. “I want the details. Tell me where you were in the house.”

Color staining her cheeks, she glances away, but I capture her chin and hold it, forcing her to meet my gaze. I refuse to let her hide.

“In my studio,” she admits.

I watched her on video. Had she been plotting her disobedience while she made her way across the backyard? “Be more specific.”

She hesitates.

“Where?” I reiterate.

With a sigh, she admits, “In front of the window.”

“With the blinds open?” The thought of her pleasuring herself where anyone could potentially see her sends a pulse of arousal through me. “You are a bit of an exhibitionist.”

Refusing to acknowledge how turned on she’s made me, I grip the hem of her sweater. “Lift your arms.” I’ll do it myself if she doesn’t comply.

Even though her breaths are ragged, she does as I say.

I finish removing the garment.

As I suspected, she’s not wearing a bra. Her breasts are perfect, and her nipples are begging for my touch. “No wonder you were a bad girl,” I murmur, circling one tight peak with my finger. “This material must have been keeping you aroused all day.”

She doesn’t deny it.

I lean down and suck one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the hard bud, then grazing it lightly with my teeth. At the same time, I pinch and roll the other nipple between my fingers.

She squirms and lets out tiny mewls of need.

Abruptly I release her nipple, then straighten up. “Let’s return to the scene of the crime, shall we?”

“What?”

I capture her wrist.