“Lie over my lap.”
My eyebrows rise. A spanking? But what is the towel for? Actually, I don’t care. Out of all the horrendous things I was starting to imagine, a spanking seems like an incredibly good deal. Granted, I’ve never been spanked, but how bad can it be?
I hold my head up high, walk proudly over to him, and then drape myself over his lap with as much dignity as I can muster.
Most of me is lying face down on the couch, with only my ass on his lap. It is strangely comfortable. Toocomfortable. Feeling the touch of another person’s body is like a drink of water after being lost in the desert.
“So youcando as you are told,” Tristan remarks dryly.
I grind my teeth and say nothing. I’ve got myself into enough trouble for one day.
His hands lightly skim up my legs and it takes me a moment to realise that he is sliding my robes up. He pushes them up to my hips and a slight breeze dances over my now naked ass.
One hot hand caresses softly over my flesh and I shudder with sensation. He cups one cheek and then the other. Then he gives both a little jiggle. Such a pervert. But I’m so overwhelmed by the unfamiliar feeling of being touched, that I’m not sure I mind all that much. I’ve had more physical touch since Tristan took me prisoner than I’ve ever had in my entire life combined.
The sound of a stopper being pulled out of a bottle makes me jump. I really need to get a grip, but just as I am thinking that, something thick and viscous pours on to my crack. Oil? Is he pouring oil on me? It smells musky, like sandalwood. And oh my gosh. It is warm. Warm enough to be nearly hot.
I bite my bottom lip in an effort not to make a hideous noise as the thick, hot oil slides down my crack and finds its way to my hole. It seems to pool there, setting off all sorts of delightful tingles and strange sensations.
Oh lord. I’m starting to doubt that this is going to be a spanking. I think he has other things in mind.
Tristan’s finger follows the oil’s path, gliding between my cheeks and down to my hole. Confirming my suspicion about his intentions.
Suddenly I’m yelling and my back is bowed. Oh my god. He just shoved a finger right inside me. Deep. All the way to the knuckle. And…stars…it feels amazing.
Tristan chuckles deeply. “Weren’t expecting that? The oil loosens you nicely, so there is no need to wait.”
His finger moves around inside me. Rummaging. It brushes against something that makes me see stars. A filthy moan echoes around the room. I really hope it wasn’t mine.
“Just as I thought,” Tristan says conversationally. “Your sweet spot is very engorged.”
I have no idea why he is talking to me. I’m really not capable of processing words right now. Nevertheless, he rabbits on.
“You are fey, and need to release regularly and frequently. Which you haven’t been doing. You are also a vessel, which also hasn’t been taken care of. All this pent up sexual energy and magic, it is a wonder that you are not even more uptight and grouchy.”
Grouchy? The…a loud carnal moan of unmistakable delight spills out of my mouth. The bastard added a second finger, and it feels like I’ve died and gone to heaven.
“What…is…vessel,” I manage to pant. If he is going to insult me, I at least want to be able to understand it.
“Someone who can’t wield their magic, so they need to give it to others through sex.”
What the actual hell? I have never heard anything so ridiculous in all my days. I snort derisively but ruin it by disintegrating into a whimper as he slides his fingers in and out again. Friction and fullness. It feels so good.
Somehow I pull myself together enough to spit out, “Convenient!”
“What is?” Tristan asks, and he sounds so fucking jovial and pleased again. I should hate it. I should prefer it when he is stressed and anxious and exasperated.
“That you have to fuck magic out of me!” I gasp.
He chuckles. A warm, tender sound. “Convenient for both of us, I think.”
His fingers burrow deep inside me again and I don’t have breath to argue.
“I’m going to make you cum, Little Nisny. Because you need it. I’m going to make you cum and cum again. Until you are begging me to stop. Until it hurts. And then I am going to make you cum again. Because you also need to be punished. You are going to cry and scream and sob and shake and there is going to be no mercy until you pass out.”
My entire body shudders. I feel his words in every cell of my body. The thing is, I can’t tell if they make me terrified or excited. I think it is quite possibly both.
Oh stars. I’m so screwed.
