Page 20 of An Angel’s Share (The Greystone Family: Greystone Brothers #1)

Jonno

I sit and wait in the old stable block. It’s quiet, calm, the sunlight streaming in through the old round windows high up in the apex of the building.

The warmth comes through, but it’s still nice and cool, built to be a place to house animals in the summer heat.

The stalls, with their old peeling paint and rusty lattice ironwork, show a level of decoration that was not meant for the horses, but more for the owner’s vanity. A show of wealth to others.

I’m at the far end of the building, currently being used for storing hay bales and unused, clean horse rugs waiting for the weather to turn so they’re back in business.

The fabric of the old chair I’m sat on has seen better days.

It looks like someone has tried to stuff the cushion with hay.

A workbench is at my elbow, and a highly polished, incredibly well-used wooden saddle rack at my feet.

My fingers tap on the workbench next to my soft leather belt. An old crop, the leather keeper at the end rough and unoiled, sits beside it. I’ve also brought a few items which I’ve placed into an old tin. I sit and wait. I know she’ll come. I just don’t know when.

I smile to myself when I hear the old wooden door open and close. It’s nearly an hour later.

Her flip-flops slapping on the floor, her summer dress swishes around her shapely legs.

“You’re late.” My voice is so low, my heart rate so high. I sit lounging in my chair, my posture oozing relaxed and calm vibes, but deceit is in every limb. I’m waiting to strike, and I know she knows it.

She stops dead. I fucking love that she knows it. And from the look on her face, she loves it too.

She glances at the belt and crop laid out on the bench as I move my hand to the belt and stroke it, the leather so soft under my fingertips. I pat it twice and her eyes dilate.

Fuck me. Never has a conversation been so loud without saying a word.

I stroke the plaited leatherwork on the stem of the crop slowly, so slowly, and I watch the blush run up her delectable body.

“Is that for me?” she croaks out eventually, vocalising the thoughts she’s been sending my way for the past five minutes. Even though she’s not loud, the space around us magnifies the sound.

“All for you, my love. Everything I do is for you.”

“I’ll take it, I’ll take it all.”

This woman, no messing around. Ask and you shall receive. And she is asking.

I love it.

I stand in a fluid movement, stalking towards her. Her breathing picks up with every step nearer I take.

In flat shoes, she still stands tall, her face level with my chin.

Her bright red hair sparks off the light flecks coming in through the windows high above us, creating a fiery halo around her head.

Someone other than me may only see heaven.

But I see hell too. A fire to consume us.

And I’ll grin through every minute of it.

As I circle her, she can hardly breathe, and she seems cemented to the floor. She dips her head down slightly, watching me from under her eyelashes. My smile is licentious.

Stopped behind her, I step inwards so I’m a whisker away from her arse cheeks. “Have you done as you were told?”

She blows out a breath, but doesn’t answer. I smirk at that, knowing exactly what she wants without a single word.

“You want me to find out for myself? I’ll have to strip you for that.”

Her eyelashes flutter and she bites her lip. Fuck, this woman is a siren. I can hardly contain myself.

“Stay here, just like this. I need to make sure the door’s locked. Wouldn’t want any interruptions.”

I’m intrigued to see if she can actually do as she’s told.

She’s not a submissive person by nature.

In fact quite the opposite. But here, maybe it’s different.

She knows what it feels like, how amazing it feels to do as I say.

She actually likes it. Someone else to be in charge for a short while anyway.

Someone else to make the decisions for you. It’s freeing.

I turn and walk away towards the door she came through. It’s the only working entrance. The big barn doors are locked and not in use. I made sure to choose somewhere we can’t be found. That we’re far enough away from the house she won’t be heard however loud she is, however the sound magnifies.

I turn back and notice she’s not moved. “Well, it seems you can, on occasion, do as you’re told. Pity it won’t save you from the punishment. But I’ll halve it, for good behaviour.”

Walking past her, I smirk and stroke the belt on the workbench.

My eyes lock on hers as I do. She has no brown left, her eyes fully dilated.

Oh, my baby mamma likes to play. Good luck for her that I am a master in that department.

And I know what she likes. I remember California well, her body singing under my hands.

The need to touch her skin is intense, so I prowl over and stand directly in front of her, undoing the buttons on her dress with precision. It drops back, exposing her to me. Protruding tummy, skin glowing rose in the sunlight, she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

She’s removed her bra, and her tits are full, nipples standing to attention, just waiting for the inspection. But oh dear, the knickers are still in situ. My smile is obscene at that wilful spirit. She’s playing with fucking fire. And she knows it. I love that about her.

Picking up the crop and using the leather end—the keeper, and she certainly is auditioning to be that today—I sweep the dress open and away from her body.

I shutter my eyes. I don’t want to scare her off by being too intense.

The crop is already having an effect. Her breathing has picked up again, excitement pulsing out of her, pumping her pheromones at me.

I breathe it all in. She thinks she can take it all.

Well, I fucking want it. Her, everything.

I start at the top of her magnificent tits.

Gently gliding the crop over them, she gasps when I apply pressure.

The old leather keeper has a rough edge, and I drag it over her sensitive breasts.

My movements are consistently slow, designed to build up her anticipation.

She looks like she is going to grab the crop and hit me with it, she’s that desperate .

Running it down the centre of her stomach, I stop just below her navel as I hit knickers. I tap the crop on the extensive fabric and quirk my brow at her. Her grin is pure mischief. She wants the punishment she knows is coming. She knows this will make it even better. The little minx.

“Well, Houston, we seem to have a problem.” I smirk. “Disobeyed a direct order.”

I’m shaking my head as I walk around her. Lifting the dress up from the bottom with the crop, checking out her arse in the robust pants, I tap her arse cheeks with the crop. “You have been a very bad girl.” I hear her gasp. “And you will need to try to redeem yourself.”

She huffs out a laugh. “I’m nearly six months pregnant. Knickers are an essential piece of kit.” She hooks her fingers into the lace at the top. “And they’re pretty.”

“Even lace can’t make them pretty. Functional, comfortable, but not pretty.”

She watches as I step back in front of her and lean over into a box at the back of the table, producing a pair of scissors. “I thought it might come to this. And even though I’m strong, I knew I wouldn’t be able to rend these ironclad knickers in two. So I brought in reinforcements.”

I snip at her with the scissors. Her mouth is gaping open as I drop to my knees in a swift movement, pull the knickers away from her skin and cut them off her. The fabric drops to the floor in three sections.

I grin lubriciously. “Now we can begin again. With no interruptions. But you’re going to pay for those knickers. What do you want first, Rua? Crop?” I hold up the crop and then bring it down on my hand. “Or belt?” I spin around and pick up the belt, swishing it also onto my palm.

Her eyes are like saucers. Her mouth is moving, but she says nothing. Her breathing, a hard pant, is the only sound .

“You want me to decide?” She nods, her body motionless. “Good girl,” I croon, picking back up the crop, ready to start all over again.

I glide the harder edge of the leather across her skin, and she groans out as it touches her nipples.

Side to side, around and around, I constantly tease her.

A sharp tap on the side of her breast has her crying out in shock.

But the pleasure notes underneath the shock are music to my ears.

I repeat on the other side, a few more flicks, and she can’t stand still.

She’s shifting from foot to foot. I can see her muscles contracting on her stomach.

Clenching her thighs together. She can hardly wait.

“Wait Rua, it will be worth it.”

I lean forward and kiss her, my tongue luxuriating in her soft, willing mouth. The noises she makes drive my brain into overdrive. Fuck, I want to taste her. I nearly throw my usual MO to the wind and take her now, but I promised her punishment. And I’m all about her.

“I have this lovely belt for you. Soft leather, to caress you, love you, give you what you need.” Her panting would rival any of the horses that may have lived here at one time.

Her eyes are wild, the most untame female this stable has ever seen.

She’s licking at her top lip, desire coursing through her.

“Tell me, do you agree you need to be punished? You know you’ve been disobedient?” She nods her head frantically. “Words, Rua. I need them.”

“Yes,” she croaks out. “Fucking yes, Jonno. Please, I need you.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “In that case, who am I to say no. If at any time you don’t like it, say stop. And I will.”

“Don’t we need a safe word?” Her thighs are clamping together, she will not last at this rate .

“No, not between us. Not here. It’s just you and me. If it gets too much, say stop, and I will.”

I run my hand over her tits, following the trail of the crop down her body. My hand slips between her legs, and I groan out when I feel the slick skin. “I brought lube, but you are sopping already. Open your legs wider, baby.” She does as I ask and I slide my fingers into her folds.

I kiss her all the while my fingers are moving inside her, my tongue mimicking my fingers, in, out, hard and soft. Bites and nuzzles. Long and slow. I remove my fingers and she moves as if she’s going to grab my hand and put it back. Her eyelids are half closed, desire making them heavy.

I remove her dress completely, and she’s stood fully naked in front of me. The sight I don’t think I’ll ever get over. Her glorious pregnant body on full show. Her luminous skin shining out in the muted sunlight.

“Bend over here, baby, and hold onto this bench. You are not to wear any knickers from now on. If I want to finger fuck you at breakfast, I will. If I want to taste your tits for lunch, I will. And if I want to eat your pussy for dinner, I fucking will. This is for not doing as you’re told. Feel how soft it is.”

I’ve picked up the belt from the workbench and I place it in her hands. Her thumb skims the soft leather and her body erupts in goosebumps. “Are you cold?” I smirk, knowing damn well she isn’t.

“No,” she breathes out. “I’m burning up. Please, Jonno.” She’s not bothering to play hard to get. She’s like a rose-golden offering.

“Widen those legs, baby.”

I pick her hand up and run it along the length of the belt. I can see she wishes it was my cock, and I shoot her a knowing smile as she runs her tongue along her lips .

“I’ll give you my cock later. If you behave.”

She practically comes on the spot.

I move behind her, her delectable arse pushed out at me. “This is going to feel so good,” I tell her as I swing the belt.

Gently at first, my strikes get harder and harder as she moans louder and louder. I swing it underneath her and hit her pussy, watching it contract with pleasure. Her voice is low and husky as she moans my name. Her head down, her body sways with the swing of the belt.

I swing and smooth out each hit with my hand. Kiss her arse cheeks as they glow a luscious pink. I run my hands up the sides of her body, teasing her whilst she waits for the next onslaught. Squeeze her tits, plucking at the hugely extended nipples.

Her head is shaking now, her body swaying with the desire to come. It’s like all my fantasies have been brought to life in this woman.

I continue my steady torture—swing, hit, caress.

When she growls at me, pure desperation in her tone, I drop the belt and push my face into her pussy from behind.

The cry of pleasure that escapes her lips lights me up like a St. Patrick’s Day fireworks display.

I suck, lick, and nip at her. Pushing my fingers into her pussy to hit her front wall, I drive that pleasure up a notch.

She’s screaming for me to suck her harder as she hits her peak with a boom, juices flowing from her. She can hardly stand it, and keens with a sound I have never heard from anyone before.

She coasts down the other side, with me gentling my fingers, but not fully stopping.

I only pull them out to grab hold of her as her legs buckle. I stand and pull her towards me, cradling her body to me and drawing her down onto my lap in the old chair. I swipe up her dress from the floor and cover her with it.

Tears are leaking from her eyes, and I’m starting to panic. Was it too much in her current condition? Did I read her incorrectly? Did I hurt her?

I’m babbling at her, asking if she’s okay, telling her how beautiful she is when she comes, how amazing her body is, and how good she makes me feel. Kissing and nuzzling, I’m constantly rubbing my scent onto her. I want her covered in me. And I want to be drenched in her.