Page 21 of Resisting the Temptation (Broken Shelves #3)

Emma

I ’m running late, and Ben’s not going to be happy when I finally make it to the club.

I hope he spanks me as my punishment.

God, I’m so mad at him though. How dare he break his own rule by talking about our arrangement at work? I was so shocked I couldn’t think of a single witty thing to say back.

The rest of the day he acted like nothing ever happened, reverting to his grumpy self. I don’t understand why he’s so sweet and talkative with me at the club but barely says a word at work.

I guess it’s the same reason I’m bubbly and talkative at work but submit to him. Two sides of our personalities. I want to see more of the club side of him. I want to know why he’s so grumpy all the time.

That’s girlfriend territory, Emma. Stop it.

When I finally get to the club, I rush to our room and unlock the door with my card .

Ben is sitting in the armchair, and his head whips up towards me when I step inside.

He looks extra mad. His shoulders are tight and his jaw clenched. He stands abruptly and crosses his arms over his broad chest, showcasing the muscles I don’t get to drool over daily.

“You’re late,” he barks.

I slowly walk towards him. “I’m sorry. Traffic was bad, and Jordan needed to—”

“I don’t care what Jordan needs. When we set a time, I expect you to show up. Or at least let me know if you’re going to be late.”

“I texted you twenty minutes ago.”

“I was already here, so I didn’t get it.”

Right.

“I’ll be on time next time.”

“You better, or today’s punishment will seem like a piece of cake.” His tone turns dark with dirty promise, and I suppress a shiver. “Take off your clothes and shoes, Dulzura. No more talking unless I ask you a direct question. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” I answer as I slip off my dress, underwear, and shoes then place them neatly on the cabinet while I wait for my next instructions. The urge to keep apologizing is strong, but I already know I’m in for a punishment, so I keep my mouth shut as I stand there, unsure where to even look.

Ben circles me slowly, trailing a single finger up my right arm, across my shoulders, and down my left before tugging me back into him by my hips. He’s already hard, and I feel a bit proud my naked body does this to him. I make him hard. With all my jiggly bits and stretch marks .

His hot breath tickles my ear as he whispers, “I’ve been dying to touch you for the last two weeks.

” He trails his hands up my sides to cup my breasts and tease my nipples with his thumbs.

I lay my head back against his chest and nearly sigh with relief at having his hands on me.

“Do you know how difficult it is to watch you strut around the office in your pretty little outfits and not be able to put my hands on you?”

He pinches my nipple, and I gasp. My body is on fire. I’m so pent up from the last two weeks one strong breeze across my clit would have me coming.

“I asked you a question, Dulzura. ”

Huh? Oh, right.

“I can imagine it was hard, Sir.”

Ben gives a mocking chuckle. “I don’t think you can imagine how hard it was.” He grinds his erect cock into my back, and my pulse picks up speed.

I can imagine, actually. The number of times I’ve had to avert my gaze from this god-like man so I wouldn’t soak my panties is actually embarrassing. The urge to touch him, kneel at his feet and beg for him to touch me was so strong, I almost gave in.

He didn’t ask me a direct question, so I don’t respond. He releases my breasts to slide his hands down my belly and slips one finger between my legs, teasing my entrance. I arch into his touch, needing more.

“Such a needy little slut for me,” he growls. “Tell me the truth , Dulzura . Did you play with my pussy while we were apart?”

I tried to. I laid in bed replaying every delicious memory of our first two times and got so turned on I had to slip my fingers underneath my pajamas.

When I couldn’t with my fingers, I tried my trusty bullet vibrator.

I can usually make myself come pretty fast, so when ten minutes passed and I still hadn’t found relief, I gave up and cursed Ben.

I swallow harshly, not wanting to admit to my failed attempt at self-pleasure, but I don’t want to lie to him about it either. “I—I tried to, Sir.”

Ben removes himself completely from my body, and I let out an embarrassingly needy whimper at the loss. He walks around me, coming to stand right in front of me, tipping my chin up so I’m forced to stare into his coffee-colored eyes.

“What do you mean you tried ?”

“I didn’t successfully… ya know… finish, Sir.”

“But you touched yourself?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Ben tsks and cups the side of my face, his tone deceptively sweet for the words that come out. “Poor Dulzura couldn’t make herself come. Desperate and needy, writhing around in her bed with no relief. What will I do to punish you for being defiant?”

“I think me not coming on my own is punishment enough, Sir.” I know it won’t work. He’ll never let me off the hook for disobeying.

Ben tips his head back and gives a husky laugh. A real one, loud and guttural. It sounds a bit rusty, like he hasn’t laughed in a really long time, and it sends goosebumps skittering across my body.

“Oh, honey. Nice try. You didn’t follow the rules, so now I get to punish you. On the bed. Prop yourself up against the headboard.”

I scurry over to the bed, earning a spank on the ass from Ben as I pass him.

I get into position and watch as he slowly strips down to just his black boxer briefs.

I allow my eyes to greedily take in everything I haven’t been able to see at work.

The dark hair on his chest, the thickness of his thighs, the hard planes of his chiseled stomach.

He really is a god among men.

Ben walks over to a cabinet and retrieves some things I can’t see, then comes and stands at the end of the bed.

“Since you were so impatient you broke my rule, I want you to spread your legs and show me how you touched yourself.”

When I don’t immediately follow his command, he sighs. “I’m giving you permission to touch yourself, Dulzura. So be a good girl, spread your legs, and show me your pussy. Show me how you rode your fingers.”

“I—” I clamp my mouth shut since I wasn’t asked a question.

“You… what?” he prompts.

“I didn’t use my fingers, Sir.” Embarrassment makes my whole body heat up. How pathetic is it that I couldn’t even get off on a toy?

Ben shakes his head. “You mean to tell me you used a toy, and you couldn’t get yourself off? Were you so desperate for my cock your pathetic little toy didn’t do the job?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Well, there’s no toy here tonight. If you’re a good girl and show me what a desperate slut you are, maybe I’ll give you my cock. But you have to earn it. Now, spread them. ”

I gulp but slowly spread my legs. I’ve never touched myself in front of someone before. Sometimes the religious guilt still creeps in when I’m masturbating and ruins the mood, which is why I usually seek out partners.

Touching myself in front of Ben feels too intimate, too embarrassing. But I guess that’s why this is a punishment. I already know I won’t get myself to an orgasm, even though I’m so pent up. I want his hands. His mouth. His cock. I want him to bring me pleasure.

Another reason this is a punishment. He’s depriving me of his touch because I broke the rules.

Bringing my hand down to my clit, I start rubbing in harsh circles, wanting to orgasm before he tells me to stop.

I don’t get very far before he barks, “Stop.”