Shadow Fire (Shadow Riders 7)

She moistened her lips. “Yes, Elie, but—”

“Don’t make excuses. You disrespected him for no other reason than your ego, isn’t that the truth?”

She was silent a moment and then she slowly nodded. “Yes.”

He barely caught the admission. “Did you consider even once that he interrupted his day, risked his life and his brothers’ lives to aid us?”

She blinked rapidly and shook her head. “No.”

“Nor did you consider how you would make me look when you were so ungrateful, did you?” His hand slid up her thigh, and then between her legs once more, testing to make certain she had answered truthfully on her questionnaire. She widened her legs to give him better access, her breath coming in a ragged gasp as he slid his finger into her hot channel. She was tight and his cock jerked in anticipation.

“No, Elie,” she whispered. “I didn’t.”

He pulled his hand away again. “There are consequences for your actions, aren’t there? We both agreed on that, didn’t we?”

A full-body shiver greeted his words. “Yes.”

“Go to the window and place your palms flat on the last lower pane. Press against the glass tight and push your ass out toward me. Keep your legs spread wide.”

Brielle looked at the bank of windows and then back at him. With seeming reluctance, she made her way to the windows and then slowly bent down until she pressed her breasts flat against the glass with her palms on either side of her shoulders, down low, near the bottom half of the pane. At the same time, she widened her stance and pushed her bottom out.

Elie stayed very still just observing her. She liked what she was doing. Her pussy was swollen with need and so wet, it was nearly dripping. He’d been right to keep her wanting him. To drive her cravings up with all the touches, with stepping in and out of her shadow. He’d made certain to lie tight against her all night, to rub his thumbs over her nipples to keep them inflamed.

Her body bucked against his often during the night, and several times her hand had crept down, fingers moving in her body to try to relieve the ache in her sleep. He’d watched her for a few minutes, letting the tension in her build, before he’d firmly removed her fingers, sucking on them, tasting her spice and telling himself to wait, they would be better for it.

He had to have control in order for them to work as a couple. She needed certain things in their relationship. He’d read her answers over and over, read between the lines, and he’d been determined to make them work as a couple. Now that his wife was Brielle, more than ever, he was going to make their relationship work. She might think this was about sex, but he knew better. This was about giving her everything she needed or wanted. That meant staying in control even when he felt desperate—like now.

He padded across the room silently, making certain she didn’t hear him coming up behind her. There was nothing more beautiful than the sight of his woman waiting for him, spread open, her pussy glistening, her rounded cheeks shuddering visibly, but the endorphins so jacked, the goose bumps had taken over her silky skin.

Deliberately, he pulled the leather belt from his trousers, sliding it from the loops so it slithered like a snake, the sound overly loud in the stillness of the house. “You deserve the belt, mon petit jouet très sale. Or the cane. Your infraction is that serious, but since it is your first time, I will go easy on you.”

For a moment, he thought she would protest and he hid his smile. His woman liked her little punishments. She liked him being in charge. She’d made that abundantly clear in her answers, which was one of the reasons she wasn’t happy when she found out she was marrying Elie Archambault. A stranger could know those very personal quirks about her, but not him.

He curved his hand over her left cheek. Satin. He loved the way she felt. She squirmed for the first time, embarrassed that she wasn’t perfectly firm the way she thought she should be. She’d put that down in her papers when she’d written about the things on her body she didn’t necessarily like. He’d asked for that information. It wasn’t something his partner had to answer, but she had and she’d been honest. He’d been surprised that she’d disclosed so much.

Brielle had written she worked out and watched what she ate and hoped he’d help her with that. Now, as he palmed her cheeks, he didn’t want her to worry so much about how she looked to him or anyone else. He could see her worries if she was riding the shadows and had to be in the best physical condition to survive, but he didn’t want her confidence to be about her looks.

He rubbed her cheeks to warm her up. She was shaking in anticipation. Every now and then he dipped his fingers into her entrance and brought them to his mouth. When he took his first few slaps, it was easy, just enough to watch his hand bounce and spread a soft pink across both cheeks.

“You have a perfect ass, Brielle. You were made for this.” He added strength to the next few strikes, listening for the sound of her breathing to change. She wasn’t there yet. Not even close. If he was honest, neither was he.

He stood to one side and began to pepper her bottom for real, enjoying the bright red handprints he spread across her cheeks and down the curves to the seams where her thighs met. Her legs began to shake and she started to rise on her toes. Her breath began to come in a series of ragged gasps as if she couldn’t catch her breath.

He increased the strength of his strikes and she cried out, tears starting, but she pushed out her bottom to meet his strokes. He landed a few on the backs of her thighs and then stopped, using his fingers to circle her clit and then test her very slick entrance.

“I think you liked that just a little too much, Brielle. Stand up straight.” He stepped back to give her room.

She straightened slowly. He noticed she did so facing the window so anyone who happened to be on the lake in a boat would see a woman completely naked framed fully in the glass. She turned to face him, tears running down her face. “I’m really sorry, Elie. I shouldn’t have talked to Stefano like that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. Go into the bedroom. I haven’t decided whether or not your punishment is over. I think you liked it far too much. You did, didn’t you?” He dared her to lie to him.

She pressed her lips together, her eyes avoiding his.

“Brielle.” He poured a warning into his voice.

“Yes. I did,” she admitted.

“Go into the bedroom and wait for me and don’t you dare touch yourself. Don’t forget your clothes. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Deliberately, he hardened his tone, although, as always, he kept his voice very low.