“You need it,” I say, and it comes out soft and sultry. An invitation.
I need it too. I want him to chase away the dark thoughts that are threatening to overtake me. Ideserveto be punished.
Krampus licks his lips, wordless.
I slowly reach up to shrug off my coat. My back still stings from the first whipping, but… “I can handle more.”
It’s an understatement. I crave it, perhaps just as much as Krampus does. I welcome the pain.
But he holds out a hand. “No.”
I pause, my coat halfway off my shoulders. “No?”
He approaches me, step by slow step, his tail flicking behind me. “There are other methods of punishment.”
Instinct urges me to shrink back, but I hold my chin high instead, facing him head-on. “Like what?”
Instead of answering, he grabs me around the waist and lifts me up. I gasp as my feet leave the ground, wriggling helplessly in his grasp. One of his huge hands spans my waist, and he carries me with ease, past the bodies of Louis’s parents and back into the cabin. Away from where our final victim ran.
The warmth is a shock to my system.
“Where—What—” I can’t seem to form a complete sentence.
He sits in one of the armchairs, his huge form barely fitting between the armrests. Then he arranges me on his lap, face down, bent over his knees. My dress rides up around my thighs.
It’s so unexpected that it takes me a moment to realize his intent. My God. He’s going to spank me.
The thought sends a bolt of heat straight through me. I suck in a sharp breath, and his huge palm cracks against my ass with a resoundingslap.
“Oh,” I gasp. Like the first strike with the rod, I feel more surprise than pain at first, adrenaline flooding my body and making every nerve tingle. I squirm on his lap, but one of his huge hands presses on my back and holds me effortlessly in place. Stretched out and helpless.
He smacks my ass again, and I whimper. Wet warmth gathers at the corners of my eyes—and the apex of my thighs.
“Please,” I whisper.
He pauses. “Please what?” His voice is a low growl.
I reach back with one shaking hand and pull my dress up to my waist, exposing my lacy panties and the flesh of my ass to him. Krampus growls under his breath, the sound vibrating through his body. He shifts me on his lap, and through hisloincloth, I feel the press of his length against my stomach. Fuck, he’shuge, and hard as a rock.
Swallowing, I give in to temptation and reach for him, but he grabs my hand. His fingers easily encircle both of my wrists as he pins them behind my back and holds me in place.
“This is about punishment,” he says, “not pleasure.”
I lick my lips, daring. “I think we both know it can be both.”
He grabs my thong and yanks it down. I gasp at the feeling of cool air against my bare and aching core. There’s a pause, and I am certain he’s noticed the wet spot on my panties, the shameful need.
Then he spanks me again. The slap of his huge palm against my naked ass makes me cry out. Then he does it again, and again, and again, each strike slightly harder than the last. Soon, I am gasping and teary-eyed and writhing. Wetter than I have ever been in my life.
“More,” I sob out. “More, more.”
He obliges. Between each slap of flesh, I hear his breath coming in short, hard bursts that tell me he is as affected by this as I am. The sharp sting of his slaps becomes a throbbing ache, my raw skin becoming more and more sensitive. But even as my pain crescendos, so too does my pleasure. I am drowning in twined sensations, raw and whimpering, vision going white around the edges.
Then, without warning, he stops. There is only the sound of my frantic panting. My body teeters on the verge of some precipice, stuck there. It is almost a worse agony, to be denied what I so crave.
“Touch me,” I beg.
With incredible gentleness, he yanks my thong back up. Then he grabs my dress and smooths it over my ass, covering me. I hiss at the rub of fabric against raw skin—and whimper in disappointment as I realize that’s all he intends to do to me.
