Page 98 of Broken Brothers

She started to when I snapped my fingers, pausing her.

“You will acknowledge my commands,” I ordered. “Do I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Master,” she said, biting her lip.

“Good. Now, take off your shirt and bra.”

“Yes, Master.”

She did as ordered, standing as still as a statue when her bra fell to the floor. She looked absolutely fucking perfect. Now it was my turn to fight the feeling of wanting to break the atmosphere. Now I had to exert self-control not to just grab her and fuck her on the floor. I had to keep this game of power up.

I walked around her, admiring her every curve, her every feature, her every freckle and speck of beauty.Oh, Claire McLendon. You naughty little thing.

When I had completed one full circle, I grabbed her hand and led her to her room.

“Where—”

She shut her mouth before I had even turned around. I merely smiled at her—I didn’t need to say anything else. She was getting the rules; no need to make it redundant by repeating what I had already said.

I took her to the room and kissed her a little more aggressively this time, willingly biting her neck—although, I have to admit, I did not do this as much as I wanted to, given that she would have to show her face tomorrow. She could have always chosen to let her hair down, but I was a lion in heat, nota sociopath looking to fuck someone. I still had respect for my lady.

I grabbed her hand and let her grab my crotch. I was too hard. I was so hard that it was uncomfortable to keep wearing jeans. It was of little matter, though—the good stuff would come soon.

I lifted her up, drawing a surprise yip, and placed her on the bed. I looked around and found what I needed—clothes in her drawer.

“Don’t move,” I ordered.

I grabbed three long sleeve shirts and brought them to her. In an ideal world, I would have the actual material I wanted, but this would suffice for the time being. The improvisation of it all, after all, was half of what made this encounter so hot. If it didn’t technically work perfectly, who cared?

First, I grabbed her left wrist and tied it to the bed frame. Then, I took her right wrist and tied it to the other side of the bed frame. I grabbed the last shirt and paused.

“Tell me, my pretty,” I said. “What do you think is going to happen?”

Claire looked both so aroused and so nervous. I wanted desperately to know which one would win out. That, and I was honestly interested in knowing what she thought was going to happen.

“I don’t know, Master.”

“Hmm,” I said, followed by a throaty laugh. “Close your eyes.”

I waited until she did so and then wrapped the last shirt around her eyes, blindfolding her.

“From here on out, you are mine to play with,” I said. “You may squirm and move as need be, but you will not remove the blindfold or try to escape until we have both finished. Until thattime, you are mine and mine alone, Claire McLendon. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Excellent, you are a quick learner,” I said.

Honestly, I had no idea where this came from. I hadn’t acted like this around Claire ever before, and not even Layla had brought out this side of me. I’d gone down this road a couple of times before, but it had always been with girls I had known for some time. This was a different animal, a different time, a different feeling.

Whatever Claire did to me, I liked it. I couldn’t get enough of it.

I started by brushing my fingers gently over her stomach and across her chest. I knew how much she was anticipating me fucking her like a wild animal, and the sensation of soft touch, gentle, almost feather-like grazing, and the sensuality of anticipation drove her even more mad than before. The unpredictability of it all wrecked her, and I loved it.

I didn’t even have to touch her to get her to moan. I could just say her name, touch her, and then hover close, and she would start shaking nervously. Oh, Claire McLendon.You are something else.

After I had gently caressed her breasts and run my fingers through her pants, I took off her jeans, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. Here, I decided to pick up the pace. Instead of gentle touches, I went for the hard squeeze, the groping, and the aggressive fingering. But even this moved at a pace not quite akin to what we had done last time. When the touch came, it was rough—but it did not come as much as Claire’s body begged.

This was pretty damn fun.