My hand comes down on her ass in a sharp, stinging slap.
She cries out, her body lurching forward, a strangled gasp escaping her lips. It's not a cry of pain, not really. It's a cry of pure, unadulterated shock.
Chapter Nine
Erica
The sting of his hand on my ass is a white-hot flash of sensation. At first, it's just shock. Did he really just spank my ass? Heat fills the space where his hand made contact.
The sharp, intense pain brings tears to my eyes. He rubs the spot he just struck, the skin hot and tingling. His touch is a balm, a slow, soothing caress that only intensifies the strange, conflicting emotions raging through me.
"Every lie," he says, his hand coming down again, on my other cheek, "will earn you another."
I cry out again, the sound a choked sob. My body trembles, my hands fisting in the sheets. I want to fight, to struggle, to scream. But I don't. I stay there, on my knees, my head bowed, presenting my ass for my punishment.
It’s degrading. Humiliating.
And a dark, shameful part of me is arching into the touch, my body craving the next slap, the next sting of pain.
Another slap, this one harder than the last. A choked sob escapes my throat, a raw, broken sound that’s a mix of pain and something else, something I don't want to name.
In the wake of the pain is a heat that spreads through me, pooling in my core. My pussy clenches, a hot, wet ache of need.
He's rubbing my ass again, his hands slow, possessive. He's marking me, claiming me.
"You're so fucking responsive," he murmurs, his voice a low, dark purr of satisfaction. "You like this, don't you? You like being punished for being a bad girl."
I start to shake my head, but his hand comes down again, a pre-emptive strike.
"You liked being bought," he says, his voice blunt and hard. "You like being owned by me, don't you?"
I want to deny it. I want to tell him he's wrong, that I hate this, that I hate him.
But I can't.
Because it's a lie.
A soft, broken sob escapes my lips, a surrender I can't hold back. A tear tracks down my cheek, a silent, shameful admission of my own dark desire.
"That's what I thought," he says, his voice a low, triumphant murmur.
His hands continue their exploration of my ass, a slow, possessive caress that's both a punishment and a reward. I'm lost in a haze of sensation, a confusing mix of pain and pleasure, humiliation and desire.
My body is a traitor, responding to his touch with a hunger that nearly chokes me. I'm on my knees, my ass in the air, being punished for my lies, and all I can think about is how much I want him to fuck me again.
I've become exactly the kind of person I despise. Weak. Wanton. A slave to my own base desires.
He shifts behind me, and I feel the blunt, hot head of his cock nudging against my entrance. My breath hitches, my body tensing in anticipation.
"I'm going to fuck you now, Erica," he says, his voice a low, dark purr. "And you're going to take it."
"Yes, sir," I moan.
He pushes inside me, a slow, deliberate invasion that has me gasping, my body stretching to accommodate him. My body, already wet and ready for him, opens up, accepting him. The sting of my punishment is still fresh, a dull, throbbing ache that blends with the pleasure of him filling me.
The stretching, full sensation has me gasping, my head falling forward onto the bed.
He's right.
