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deft, agonizing
strokes. And those were just the ones at the bottom of her feet. She was
gasping and writhing and pleading before he even reached her ankle.
    “I love watching you squirm,” he said, bringing the brush up
her leg to the back of her knee—that made her snarl and hiss invectives at him,
but he just chuckled and continued.
    When he came to her pussy—her sopping, aching, hungry
pussy—he swept over it with a light caress. She screamed and thrust toward it
but the brush danced away, up her belly and over her ribs to her nipples.
    Ah. He remembered her nipples then. He set down the brush
and peeled the tape back. Bella hissed as the adhesive tugged at her. He played
with it, pulling it up and settling it back again and again, his attention
fixed on her expression. As he worked her nipples, he toyed with her slit,
sending rivulets of rapture sluicing through her.
    She arched her hips toward him in a silent plea.
    Naturally, he stopped.
    As she lay there gasping and glowering, he bent his head and
gave her a big, wet kiss. “I’ll be back,” he said. “You be good.”
    And he left her again.
    * * * * *
    This time she was even more miserable because he had taken
her horniness and nudged it from arousal to pure lust. She lay there on the bed
with her nipples pulsing, her clit thrumming, her pussy aching for release.
    Again, she heard him puttering around in the kitchen,
stomping down to the basement, moving things around in the garage. And she lay
there, legs wide, weeping.
    She managed to flip over—even though in this position the
tape around her wrists really pinched—and was in the process of bringing
herself to orgasm by rubbing her clit hard against the harsh twill fabric of
the bedspread when he came into the room again.
    And oh, was he annoyed.
    He gave her several swift swats on her bottom until he
realized she liked them, that they pressed her clit even harder and with more
force against a delicious landscape. He huffed a frustrated breath, lifted her
up and shoved a fat pillow under her belly.
    He took great care to make sure she couldn’t reach the
pillow with her pussy, couldn’t rub against it in a lustful frenzy. And it
lifted her high enough off the bed so she couldn’t return to her delightful
pursuit.
    Damn it. She’d been so close.
    Once he was satisfied with this new position, he smacked her
ass again, several times in succession. He leaned closer and whispered into her
ear, “No coming, Bella.”
    “Tae. I can’t stand it,” she growled. “Please. Let me go.”
    “Sorry, darling. Can’t do that. I need to prepare you for
tonight.”
    She froze. “Tonight?”
    “Mmm hmm.” He was rustling around at the bottom of the bed
again. Now that she was on her belly, she couldn’t see what he was doing but
she was sure she wouldn’t like it.
    “What’s tonight?”
    He didn’t answer right away. He was focused on something
and… Holy hell. She felt it. Prodding between her legs. She wiggled her
ass, trying to avoid it—whatever it was.
    He smacked her again. “Hold still, sweetheart.”
    The thing , whatever it was, entered her s lowly,
gently, easing up, easing in. She shuddered as she realized what it was. What
it had to be. The handle of the hammer. Sliding into her pussy.
    Hard. Thick. In. She undulated against it and he
chuckled and slipped it out. When he put it in again, it was only a bit. Only
an inch or two. Just enough to make her crazy.
    “Don’t wiggle too much, honey. Or it will fall out.”
    Bella groaned. What she wanted more than anything was to
fuck herself on that fat rod. But if she moved, if she tried to push it deeper,
she’d lose it. She was forced to lie there, on her belly, with a nice thick
stick in her pussy— and not move .
    She was going to lose her mind.
    Tae stood up and the bed bobbled with the movement. Her
dildo bobbled too. Slipped a tad.
    She clenched it and cried out, “Fuck me. Please, Tae, fuck
me.”
    He hunkered by the head of the bed