Micah flips me back onto my stomach with the same ease I’d flip a pikelet ripe with bubbles on its uncooked side. He drops his voice an octave as he grabs hold of my ankles, so it seems to rumble up from the soles of my feet. “I’d like to see you try.”
And I intend to. Another day. When both sets of cheeks aren’t blazing red with shameful pleasure and my mind isn’t enjoying itself more than a vacation on some tropical beach.
“But you’re right,” he admits, far too easily for the words to be trustworthy. “I shouldn’t insult my little mafia princess when she gets in one of her moods.”
“Her moods?” I gasp in faux outrage. “I’ll give you moods.”
But he releases my ankles to deliver another pair of disarming slaps, leaving me collapsed and shaking on the bed. Then he thrusts his left hand between my legs, stroking me as he delivers another, lighter, reprimand.
“You remember your safe word?” he says while my body writhes before him on the bed, succumbing to his touch so readily I forget to be ashamed.
Eventually I squeak out, “I remember.”
His finger delves deeper, testing out the path his cock took the day before. Whatever soreness might have lingered is obliterated in a surge of lust, and I twist my hips to enable better access.
“You want to use it?”
“Fuck, no.”
I can hear the smile in Micah’s voice. “And now the vulgarity.” He sends another finger in to join the first and my body feels like it’s about to split open in welcome. “It’s like you’re begging to be punished.”
He eases his fingers out, changing position to grip me across the chest, pulling me up and back against him. One hand slides inside my top to palm my breast while the other returns to nestle between my legs, this time entering me from the front. The heel of his hand presses against my clit and I thrust against it eagerly.
“Please, sir,” I moan, lifting a hand above and behind my head so I can curl it around his neck. “Please. Otherwise, I’ll never learn.”
“It gives me no pleasure to punish you,” he growls, his erection pressing so hard against my tailbone that it belies every word he has to say. “This is solely for your benefit.”
“Mm-hm,” I say, temporarily lost for words as his finger rubs against an internal patch that sends far more stimulation than any I’ve felt previously. My changing gasp must let him know because with keen efficiency, Micah returns to the right spot. When I can think again, I complete my sentence, “And I’m so, so grateful.”
He pulls his hands free, and I mewl in distress. He tugs me to my feet, but it’s only to make it easier to divest me of my clothing. The dress bunches at my shoulder and it takes long enough to work it free that I’m gasping by the time my breasts feel the cool apartment air. Micah strips my underwear off me in one swift movement, then uses them as a hitch around my neck.
“On your knees.”
I scramble back on the bed to accommodate his instruction, the pull of lace around my throat sending a new onslaught of emotions tumbling through me.
“Shoulders down,” he instructs, and I bury my face into the mattress while leaving my butt stuck in the air. The fabric disappears from my neck as he strokes the hair back from my face, turning it sideways and bending over me to plant a trio of kisses along the back of my arm. “Let me know if it hurts and we’ll switch.”
As he guides his cock into me, taking his slow, delicious time about it, I feel a faint burn but its soon swept under a rug of so many other sensations that I’m barely aware of it. When he pauses, I press back against him, wanting more, wanting everything he can give me.
He fills me up, stretching me until I’m half delirious at the sensation. Then he slaps me on the right butt cheek, then the left, rubbing the marks he leaves with both hands before grabbing my hips and easing out of me, then gently surging forth to fill me again.
The languid rhythm takes my breath away. Each forward thrust is slow enough for me to anticipate how each inch of him will feel as it pushes inside, then his quicker withdrawal starts it over again until I’m panting with need.
Micah drops his right hand from my hip and curves it around my body, seeking my swollen clit. The extra sensation rolls me up to the top of the cliff, then he moves away, leaving me stranded.
I reach down to guide him or, failing that, hit the right spot myself but he laughs low in his throat and pushes my hand away, removing his own in the process so I’m left without any added friction.
“Please, can you do that again?”
“I don’t think so. This is still your punishment.” He stops, momentarily lost for words as I grip him with my muscles, trying to provide my own internal resistance since he won’t help me along. “Unless you apologised, and I just didn’t hear?”
I can’t even remember what I’m apologising for. My brain is overwhelmed with cravings to the point where it’s hard to keep track of anything else.
“I’m sorry.”
“Hm.” He draws back and holds just the tip of his cock inside me, the three count before he moves forward again teasing out a small scream of frustration. “That didn’t sound very specific to me. If you’re not more exact, I can’t be sure you know what behaviour I’m trying to correct.”
“I didn’t mean to belittle you.”
