Page 53 of Playing with Forever
Andrea huffed. “Why would I be jealous of an over the top diva who wants everyone to worship her?”
“Oh, you are. You’re jealous.” Thisdelightedme.
“I don’t appreciate being ignored while she’s fawning all over you,” Andrea gritted out. “I came here with you, as your guest, and that should be clear. She had the audacity to just come up to you and act like she had a claim to you.”
I stepped up to Andrea, and using my index finger beneath her chin, I tipped her head back, forcing her to look into my eyes. “Sounds to me like someone needs to be reminded that one of the most important parts of a dom-sub relationship istrust.”
Andrea cocked an eyebrow, clearly not impressed.
“You need to trust,” I purred, slowly dragging that same finger down her chest and along the deep plunging neckline of her dress, watching as her nipples tightened against the fabric, “that you’re the only woman I want, that you’re more than enough for me, and not even a woman in flashy tassels is going to change that fact. What if I’d gone off the handle about Brandon earlier?”
Her lips pursed, her spine still stiff. “That’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it? Some guy you work with comes along, posturing, trying to make me feel inferior so you’ll dump me and be with him. Sounds similar enough to me.” I let my hand fall away, but didn’t step back, asserting my dominance. “And I wasn’t jealous. I’m still not. Because I know there isn’t a chance in hell you’ll drop me for that guy. You should have the same trust and confidence in me, and in yourself.”
Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and I caught a quick glimpse of insecurity in her eyes, telling me what I needed to know. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust me, it was more that she didn’t think she could compete with someone like Naomi.
That was insane. When Andrea was in the room, nobody else existed for me. Not that I could go so far as to tell her that. It would reveal too much of what I felt and just convolute our temporary arrangement.
I figured there were two ways I could take this situation. Go for the painful punishment, or teach her a lesson that would completely unravel her in a different way entirely. Tonight, I opted for the latter, just to show her that discipline didn’t always have to be harsh, or hurt. That sometimes, pleasure could be just as effective.
Without another word, I retrieved a silk tie from the cupboard, then returned. Standing behind her, I pulled her hands behind her back, wrapping the material around her wrists as I bound them together. I felt her body going still, just breathing, waiting…maybe even a little confused that I hadn’t strapped her down to the nearest surface and grabbed a flogger or crop to spank her.
“I know what you need better than you do,” I said, circling around to stand in front of her again. “You don’t want to compete with Naomi. You want to be claimed so thoroughly you forget that there was ever another woman in the room.” I tipped her head back again, making her look into my eyes. “You want to be the only name I remember. The only taste I crave. And you are.”
Andrea made a soft sound, but I could see that she was still holding on to her fire.
“But I’m not letting you off easy,” I warned. “You’re going to pay for that little tantrum downstairs.”
Her chin jutted out stubbornly. “I’m not sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” I said, trying to remain stern when I wanted to chuckle at her defiance. “And I love that about you.”
I guided her back toward the couch in the room, then gently but firmly pushed her down to sit. She looked up at me with parted lips, her wrists still bound at her back, and for a second, everything else dropped away. The club, the bratty comments, Naomi, the whole goddamn world.
Just her. Andrea, looking at me like she wanted me to ruin her.
But underneath that, I saw something else. A flicker of need not just for control or release—but for reassurance. From me. And for tonight, at least, I could give her that much.
“You know what this is, don’t you?” I asked quietly, dropping to my knees in front of her and pushing the skirt of her dress all the way up to her hips. “It’s not just a punishment. It’s a reminder.”
“A reminder of what?” Her voice was low, shaky. Uncertain.
I eased her panties down her thighs, then removed them completely, my gaze holding hers. “That you’re mine.”
Andrea's breath caught—most likely from how much she wanted to believe it. From how deeply she already did.
“I want to touch you,” I murmured, my voice low, the raw vulnerability and desire on her face making me want to worship her like the queen she was. “But I want you to feel every caress. Every intention behind it. This isn’t just about control and punishment tonight, Andrea. It’s about claiming what’s mine in a way you don’t forget.”
She swallowed, then nodded once. “Then do it. Touch me.”
I pressed my hands to her knees and pushed them apart, exposing her damp pussy to my gaze. I lowered my head to kiss the inside of her thigh first—softly and reverently, things she deserved despite how foreign that tenderness was to me when I’d always opted for fast, hard, mindless sex. But I couldn’t deny that there was something about being soft with Andrea in a moment like this that felt so damn right.
My hands slid up, thumbs teasing circles against her bare skin. Her breathing hitched as I placed another wet, suctioning kiss higher this time, and dragged my tongue a bit closer to where I knew she wanted me the most.
“I love watching you fall apart,” I murmured, looking up at her, my senses drugged with the scent of her arousal. “But I love putting you back together even more.”
Her head tilted back slightly, her bound arms tightening as if she wanted to reach out and touch me, but couldn’t.
