Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline 1)

She stumbled along behind him, breasts bouncing, too horny to care if the other guys saw her like this. As possessive as Fox was, it was unlikely they were home anyway, unless he was just too wound up to worry about who saw her.

This was crazy. She’d just come hard twenty minutes ago, but he’d teased her the rest of the way home until she was just as eager for him as she’d been in the club. This anal thing was for Fox, but only because he wanted it, and because if she was going to give it up for someone it would be him. Maybe she was curious, but she wasn’t going to like it, no matter how good he tried to make it. She was more than a little scared—both that it would hurt like hell, or that he could convince her to like it. Maybe both.

They made it downstairs without seeing anyone, and she hoped that wasn’t just because the other guys were polite enough to stay out of the way.

He stripped her fast when they reached the bottom of the steps, leaving her clothes in a heap on the floor outside his bedroom.

“You really shouldn’t wear dresses around me, sweetness. Easy access is asking for trouble.” His voice was hard and mean, and it made her shiver with anticipation.

“Anything short of a chastity belt probably wouldn’t stop you.”

The attempt to lighten the mood was ignored.

Her clit was still sensitive from her orgasm and her renewed arousal, and when he shoved her to her knees, her slickness had dampened the insides of her thighs. There was a mirror across from her, and she wondered if that was why he’d put her in that spot, but the glimpses she got of her own reflection behind him was nowhere near as interesting as the wild man in front of her.

Another blow job? Was that what he wanted? She knelt as prettily as she could, back straight, tits out, and she loved the way he stared at her, like a starving animal. He was breathing hard.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He got his breathing under control, and smiled dangerously. “Nothing other than the fact that I want you and I’m impatient. But this needs to be dealt with first. You were messing with me earlier. You let me think you were fucking other people.”

It was hard not to smile, but she shrugged instead. “You jumped to that conclusion. Besides, if you wanted me to be all yours, you should have mentioned it at some point.”

“I implied it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not exactly. But did you honestly think I would even look at another guy when I could sleep with you? Have you met you?”

“I—” He broke off as if he wasn’t sure what to say. “What is it about you that makes me so crazy?”

“I’m pretty sure the crazy was there to begin with. You can’t blame that on me.” She felt her mouth twist in amusement, which made his brows lower. She wasn’t sure why she was poking the beast, but it was damn funny, and it was also making her heart race. What would he do? Punish her? He’d get rough, and she wanted it rough.

Wait—maybe she didn’t want anal rough.

Dammit.

Violence moved behind his blue eyes, and it made her insides turn to jelly.

He unbuckled his belt and slid it from the loops. The sound made her squirm. Slowly, he wound the buckle end around his big hand, and she watched the play of muscles in his forearms in breathless silence.

Oh . . . fuck . . . Was there such a thing as a visual orgasm?

“Have y

ou ever been punished with a belt before, Addison?” His voice was quiet and terrifying. This was like skydiving without a parachute.

“I’ve been hit with a belt for fun, but not really punished.” But for some reason the idea of him punishing her was making her even hornier.

“Put your forehead on the floor,” he commanded.

Hell. Hesitantly, she got into position, but she arched her back and presented for him.

“Between every smack I want you to say, ‘I’m sorry for making you jealous on purpose, Fox.’” He walked behind her and she watched his reflection in the mirror.

For a long moment he stared down at her ass in reverent silence. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

“Do you really want to make me all welty?” she asked, blinking at him innocently as their gazes met in the mirror.

“You need my marks on you, Addison,” he said roughly. “You’ve been a bad, bad girl.”