“I should make you wear my cum all night,” he answered.
That was it.
“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t wear designer labels.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched.
His smile widened and he chuckled. He didn’t get angry. He didn’t get offended. Instead, he just looked… delighted.
“Oh,malyshka,” he purred, his voice dripping with dark promise. “You’re going to regret that.”
Before I could react, before I could even process the shift in his expression, he moved, shifting his body off mine as though he was dismounting from a saddle. He didn’t waste a second. He didn’t give me a chance to retreat. With a rough, impatient tug, he flipped me over as easily as if I weighed nothing. My world spun, my face suddenly buried in the soft, clean-smelling pillows of the bed, smearing his release all over my face. My hips were yanked up, and then suddenly, my ass was presented to him like a prize. My stomach clenched with a mixture of fear and a decidedly naughty thrill.
“I was going to be nice,” he said, kneeling beside me as his hand coming down to rest on the curve of my bottom. The touch was light, almost gentle, but it was the calm before the storm. “I was going to take my time with you. To make you beg for it…”
His other hand came down on my right cheek with a loud, stinging slap. The sound was a whip-crack that echoed in the room, a stark, shocking counterpoint to the quiet intimacy of the previous moment. A cry was torn from my throat before I could stop it.
A white-hot flare of pain radiated through me and my entire body jerked in shock and pain.
“Ah!” I gasped.
“But you,” he continued, as if he hadn’t just set my ass on fire, “are a brat. And brats,” he punctuated the word with another hard slap, this one on the other cheek, “get their little asses spanked until they are bright red and hot.”
Another quick, stinging slap. And another.
He wasn’t holding back. Not even in the slightest.
Now he was spanking me with a relentless, brutal rhythm, the sounds loud, an obscene percussion that echoed throughout the room and I’m sure down the hall.Each spank burned with a deep fiery sting, and I couldn’t help but gasp at the white-hot jolts of pleasure that shot straight to my clit.In no time at all, my ass wasablaze, a throbbing, scalded inferno that made my eyes water.
“You’re enjoying this,” he observed, his tone amused.
“No,” I lied.
“You’re getting a spanking,naughtymalyshka,” he purred. “And you’re so wet you’re soaking the sheets.”
He paused, and I felt the heat of his gaze. His fingers delved between my legs, not to enter me, but to confirm exactly what he said. His thick digits slid through my slick folds in a wickedly thorough exploration that made my breath hitch in my throat. He found my clit, already swollen and sensitive, and circled it once with a light, teasing touch that sent a surge of pure electricity straight to my core.
He leaned over and brought his glistening fingers up to my face, pressing them against my lips. “Taste,” he commanded.
I opened my mouth, the scent of my own arousal a potent, dizzying aphrodisiac. Hesitantly, I tasted myself on his fingers,a flavor that was intimately familiar. My clit throbbed with an ache so intense that I nearly cried out.
“You see?” he taunted. “You want this. You need this.”
He started to spank me again then. Even harder. Then much faster. His palm was so large that it covered nearly my entire ass cheek with every spank. He set a merciless, punishing rhythm that was designed to break me, but I didn’t break. I took every spank. On my left cheek. On my right. On the left, again and again and again in the same spot. Then the right, three times in the exact same place. My world narrowed to the sting of his hand, the building heat of my own arousal, and the firm, commanding rhythm of his voice. He didn’t even slow down.
The pain was a white-hot blade, but beneath it, a different kind of heat was spreading through my veins. It was a heat that made my blood sing, a liquid ache that pooled in my stomach and settled between my thighs. My hips were bucking now, not to escape the blows, but to meet them. It was humiliating. It was degrading. And it was the most intensely erotic thing I had ever experienced in my life.
Then, just when I thought I couldn’t take another second of the palm of his big hand, the punishment changed.
His other hand, the one not delivering the searing smacks, slid between my legs. His fingers found my entrance, my body so slick and ready for him that I was almost ashamed.
Almost.
“Ah,” he breathed out. “You’re dripping. Such a responsive girl you are when I am giving you what you need.”
With that, he drove two fingers inside me in a rough, possessive thrust that made me cry out, the sound muffled by the pillow. He didn’t give me a moment to adjust. He immediately found that spot inside me, the one that made my vision go white, and he began to stroke it with a merciless, knowing precision.
My back arched, a muffled scream tearing from my lips. His other hand came down on my ass again, and it sent a jolt of pure fire straight to my core.
