My eyes continue to linger between his legs. I want to know what his cock looks like. I want to know how it feels inside me.
What? Where did that come from? No I don’t.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” he tells me, drawing my gaze back to his face.
I frown, confused. “You’re not?”
He shakes his head. “That’ll be a reward for good behavior. You’ve been a very bad girl, you see. No fucking for you.”
He tosses his tie aside and slips off his jacket. Then he unbuttons his shirt. I can only watch, mesmerized. I stare at his tattooed, muscular chest. I’ve never seen someone so lean. He literally has a ten pack. A ten-fucking pack. Each muscle is so cut, hell, I could probably grate cheese on those abdominals of his.
Mmm. I so want to run my fingers across those hard abs, and to rub the creases between those striated pectorals.
No I don’t!
He’s so fucking cut. So fucking lean.
Mmm.
Okay, maybe I want him just a little bit.
I swallow eagerly, but when I glance at his eyes and see the contempt there as he basks in my admiring gaze, it’s kind of a turn off.
“You wish you could fuck me, don’t you?” he teases.
I sniff, and look away.
He grabs my wrist and pulls me toward him. I see something else in his eyes now. Sheer, unmitigated desire.
He sits on the bed next to me and pulls me onto his lap.
“Hey—”
Before I can finish he turns me over so that my butt is facing up .
“What—”
He reaches into the hem of my romper shorts and rips them off, leaving only my panties in place.
“Hey, those are expensive!” I tell him. It’s a lame excuse, considering I didn’t pay for them, but I can’t think of anything else.
He leaves the romper in place around my knees so that they’re pinned together.
I look over my shoulders at him.
“Don’t you touch me,” I warn him.
His eyes glint malevolently and he lifts a palm into the air, holding it there defiantly, poised to strike.
Don’t you dare!
He slaps me hard in the ass.
I shout in pain. I can’t believe this. He hit me! Fucking hit me!
He strikes again, and I cry out in pain.
“Don’t touch me!”
