Chapter Thirty-Seven
They untie their bowties and unfasten the top buttons of their shirts, but the jackets stay on. Then they help me to my feet and strip the dress from me, leaving me in a bra and panties.
I guess the heels are staying on for now, too.
Declan has George drag in a hassock from the living room. When Declan sits on it, I instinctively try to draw away, already knowing where this is going, but Declan’s grip tightens on my wrist.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he says with an evil smile. “This is just the warm-up.”
He pulls me facedown over his lap. I can’t struggle, because Declan holds my right arm wrenched up behind me, and my left is pinned between my body and his. George grabs my legs and immobilizes them.
I’m helpless.
“Settle down,” Declan sternly says.
I start crying as Declan’s right hand caresses my ass. I don’t even know why I’m crying, but as I struggle harder they wait me out, holding me captive as Declan’s fingers trace along the edges of my panties.
I’m not going anywhere until they let me up, obviously.
In fact, the harder I struggle, the harder I cry…and the stupider I feel. He’s not even spanking me yet.
Maybe I can’t take as much as I thought I could. Maybe I’m a fake, a poser.
I don’t know how long we remain there like that, snot running out of my nose, I’m crying so hard.
“We’ll be here all night,” Declan sternly says. “If that’s what it takes for you tosettle.”
I’m fuckingtrembling. Old fear is pounding in my brain to fight harder, to scream for help.
To strike out and strike back.
But somewhere in the depths of all that wild, raw energy, I hear my girl’s quiet voice.
Trust them, Ma’am. You know you want this.
I freeze, breathing heavily, terror pulsing through me. My girl trusted George for all those years. Until the day she died, my girl’s faith and trust in him was never so much as bent, much less broken.
“Good girl,” Declan softly says. His fingers start kneading my ass and my upper thighs. George forces my legs apart and Declan’s fingers dip, still over my panties, caressing me through them.
When his finger finds and circles my clit, I gasp.
“That’s it, baby,” he says. “That’s our good girl. Tonight isn’t about me getting revenge on you. It’s about showing you all of me, the way you’re showing me all of you.”
I’m fighting the urge to squirm against him because what he’s doing is driving me fucking crazy with need. I’m sure my panties are soaked through.
Still, his fingers dance over the fabric, grazing my clit, over my pussy, back up to my ass, around again. Kneading my flesh, fingers digging in a little more with every repetition, until I realize he’s eased up on the grip he has on my arm and allowing me to rock against his hand when it’s between my legs.
The first smack of his hand against my ass, hard and stinging, shocks me but his fingers immediately return between my legs before my outrage can even register, much less be vocalized. He repeats this back and forth, adding more swats with his hand mixed with journeys between my legs, until he’s mostly spanking me and I’m grinding against him.
My ass is hot and stinging, but I’m not fighting them anymore. Something inside me, some switch has flipped.
“Thereshe is,” Declan says, and I don’t even mind the triumph in his tone.
He shifts gears, the spanking getting harder, my ass beginning to sting and feel hot. My squirming changes from trying to get more to trying to get away. He releases my arm and his hand tightly fists my hair.
“Holdstill,” he says. “Good girls take their spankings, and this one’s long overdue.”
I’m going to try to get up but George’s grip on my legs tightens again, levering me down and not allowing me enough purchase to escape.
