He knew what he wanted to do first.
The dining table was empty. He put her down, and just as she started to pout, he spun her around and pressed a hand between her shoulder blades. He increased the pressure until she folded over the table, her breasts and face resting on the cool wood. She was up on her tiptoes, thighs spread for him.
Just having her in this position in front of him was doing terrible things to his blood pressure.
He kept one hand on her back and stared at those white panties as he loosened his belt.
She dragged in a shaky breath when the buckle jingled.
“Breathe, baby,” he ordered, yanking the belt through the loops with one quick pull. The end of the leather caught her on the back of the thigh as it shot free, and Remi let out a little gasp.
Dear God in heaven. She was pushing that sweet, round ass back against him as if she’d liked it. He couldn’t be that lucky. Brick Callan was not that lucky.
Carefully, he nudged one knee between her thighs and lowered his zipper. His cock, now only confined by his underwear, sprang free in relief. But he couldn’t afford to take it out yet. To grip his shaft and drag the tip of it over each ivory cheek. Not yet.
Giving in to the hypnotic taunting of her hips, he let himself grind against her. Once. Twice. Three times.
She was whimpering now, begging him for something she didn’t seem to know the words for.
Reverently, he traced his hand up the back of her knee, coasting up her thigh and over the curve of her behind.
“Remi,” he said, as he curled his fingers in the waistband of those virginal white briefs.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, please.”
He dragged her underwear down, baring her tight little ass.
He’d dreamed of this. Fantasized about it. Jerked off to it so many times it almost felt real. But the reality of Remi submitting to him, bent over a table, waiting for him to touch her was incomparable.
“Breathe, baby,” he said again. They both took a minute to catch their breath. The oxygen he sucked into his lungs was hot as his fingers gently trailed patterns over both her precious cheeks.
She was shaking hard.
“Are you scared? Should I stop?” he whispered, hinging over her to press a kiss to her neck.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” she said, her voice as shaky as her legs.
“Tell me if it’s…too much.”
He rested his palm on one smooth cheek and waited until she’d taken a breath. Then he pulled his hand back and let it fly. The slap rang out in the silence of the room, chased by Remi’s sharp gasp. His palm stung pleasantly, and his cock jerked as her flesh jiggled from the blow. Her skin was pinking up like a pretty little blush.
Fuck. How would he ever go back now?
“Tell me what that one was for,” she whispered.
“What it was for?”
“Tell me what the punishment is for.”
Oh, God. He was a dead man. A fucking dead man.
“That was for smiling at my brother like you should have been smiling at me.”
She pressed her hips back, begging for more.
Slap.
It was harder, louder. And this time, she cried out.
“Brick!”
He’d landed the slap on the opposite cheek and watched in twisted pride as a handprint slowly bloomed into being.
He was so fucked.
“That was for making me wait years before letting me do this,” he growled, fisting his cock through his underwear and rubbing it over the spot he’d assaulted.
She bucked against him.
Slap.
“Yes!” she breathed against the table.
“For those goddamn shorts when you were seventeen and I couldn’t touch you.”
Again, he soothed the spot by grinding his erection against her pink skin.
Slap.
Slap.
Slap.
“Brick!”
His palm burned now. His ears rang with the siren song of his hand connecting with her flesh. And his blood was thundering through his veins.
“Are you sorry you said yes?” he whispered, sliding his stinging palm over her pink ass. Hoping, praying for the right answer.
“Never,” she whispered defiantly.
“Let’s find out,” he said.
Swiftly, he pulled her underwear back into place, hiding those sinful handprints. He shouldn’t feel good about putting marks on a woman. Yet seeing his own handprints visible on Remi’s flesh made his dick throb. Witnessing his brand on her awakened something raw, possessive, that had him by the throat.
She made a little whimper of disappointment and frustration when he stood her up and placed her on the table. Her face was flushed, lips swollen from his kisses. There were teeth marks in her lower lip. Her hair was a tangled mess of fire. And those tits. They had a siren’s song of their own, begging for his hands, his mouth.
“Is that all you’ve got?” she taunted.
His erection rose to the challenge. “Not by a long shot, baby.”
“Then why did you stop?”
He forced her thighs wide and stared down between her legs. “To make sure you liked it.”
“I could have told you—”
Her annoyance cut off when his thumb slid over the inch-long wet spot he found on the front of her underwear. He felt like a goddamn caveman.
“Oh,” she breathed.
“Is that for me?”
“It’s always for you.”
“Always?” He didn’t trust himself to look her in the eyes.
“Every guy I’ve been with was you when I closed my eyes,” she whispered. Jealousy and pride ripped through him, laying waste to any remaining chivalry. He wanted to be the only one.
“God damn it, Remi. You can’t like it,” he swore, even as he shoved his hand into her panties. “You can’t fucking let me do that to you.” He thrust one finger into her and growled when she sobbed out his name.
Not just damp. Wet. Soaking. Drenched.
Not just tight. Clenched. A slick vice, closing around his middle finger.
She spread for him, leaning back on her hands. “But I do,” she whispered. Even as she said the words, her walls rippled around his digit, and he went a little insane.
He added a second finger and fucked her as he thrust his cock against the soft flesh of her thigh. Her breasts were too much of a temptation. He couldn’t ignore them, so he dipped his head to taste each pink bud. To draw each one into his mouth and suck and lick and tease.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathed. And just when he was sure he had the upper hand, she reached for the waistband of his underwear and freed his dick.
“Remi,” he gritted out her name when those small fingers finally closed around his shaft. He was pulsing in her grip, and if she moved that goddamn hand, he was going to come. To prevent that travesty, Brick closed a hand over hers and held her still while he sucked her nipples into diamond-tipped points.
She moaned when her thumb swept over the sensitive slit in his tip. He was leaking like a fucking colander, and she was spreading the moisture over the rest of his crown.