The Brat Tamer

I find you in the kitchen, standing at the sink rinsing dishes. Sneaking up behind you, I grab those hips that speak so loudly to the basest regions of my brain.

You put down a plate, turn off the water, then twist around in my hands, head down, eyes turned up to meet mine.

“Sir?”

“Hm.” It comes out almost as a low growl. “I suppose you think I've forgotten the last time I found you here?”

“S-sir?”

You stammer, but I see the corner of your lips turn up, just for a split second, just before you catch yourself. Baby. I see you. I see all. And so the hand that had been gently rubbing your back suddenly moves up, grabbing a handful of that gorgeous hair, pulling gently but firmly to make you look up at me.

“Oh, girl. Don't you dare pretend.”

But now you're not even trying to hide it anymore as one corner of your mouth curls up in the smirk that you know boils my blood.

My eyes narrow as I take my hand from your hair and use it to lift your chin, making you face me even more directly.

“Hm.” another growl.

The smirk fades and is replaced by a gasp as I turn you back around and push you into the counter.

I press into you so you feel me exactly where I want you to as I lean in, gently brushing your hair behind your ear before whispering into it, my lips brushing lightly against your skin “I believe I am owed an apology. Girl.”

“Sir? An apology? For what?” I can still hear the smirk in your voice.

Oh. This is how it's going to go, is it?

In a flash, my belt is off, and before you even know what's hit you I've got your hands behind your back, belt lashed around them. Another gasp as I step closer, pressing even harder against you as some of your hair comes loose from its bun and drapes over the faucet.

“S-Sorry.”

Ah. That's better. But not quite enough.

“Hm.”

“I'm sorry, Sir.”

“Good. Now you've owned it. Now it's time for you to pay for it.”

One hand pushes you gently further over the sink as I step back and the other hand rises…

My eyes narrow at the sound that escapes your lips as my hand comes down. But I raise it again. You shift your hips. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were giving me an even more enticing target. Whatever. My hand comes down.

That gasp sounded better.

I let my hand linger where it landed, fingers splayed, pressing into the heat blooming beneath my palm.

“Hm.” More of a hum this time. I drag my fingertips lightly along the perfect curve of you. “I almost believed that one.”

Your breath hitches. Almost. You know better than to protest, but I can feel the words on your lips. I can feel them in the way you shift again, pushing yourself further into my grasping hand. I see the way your fingers flex within the restraint I've given you.

Leaning in again, bringing my mouth beside your ear so you feel the heat of my breath… “You're not trying to test me, are you?” My voice is soft. So soft. Almost tender.

Almost.

Not waiting for an answer, I straighten, pulling away, hand rising again.

The next sound that escapes your lips is somewhere between a moan and a whimper.

Ah. That was the one I was waiting for.

But I’m not finished yet.

I trace my hand up your side, across the back of your shoulder, and to the base of your neck, where it lingers, just enough pressure to remind you of what I expect. Just enough to make you melt for me.

“Do you want to tell me what you've learned, Miss?” You tremble at the sound of that word from my lips.

You swallow. “That I shouldn't be such a relentless tease, Sir.”

My thumb brushes over your pulse, feeling the way it flutters. “Now, that's a good start.”

I turn you carefully back to face me, leaving you just enough space so your bound hands aren't pinned into the counter. I study your expression, see that wanting look that tells me I've got you exactly where you need to be.

I exhale. Slowly. Softly. Dragging my gaze over you.

“Hm.” A little softer this time. “I suppose you've taken your punishment well enough.”

You blink up at me, that look of sweet innocence you pull off so well… but I see how wide your pupils are. You know there's a ‘but’ coming.

And there is.

“But I don’t think we’re quite finished yet.”

I slide my fingers into your hair again, tilting your head back to meet my eyes. Then I lower my mouth to yours, so close, so achingly close…

“You still have one more thing to prove to me, don’t you?” my lips brush ever so lightly against your own as the words come out.

And I watch as you press forward, just enough to almost close the distance. Almost.

I smirk.

“Good girl.”