I don’t know what he’s going to do. Look? Touch? Let me go?
His hand smacks into my buttock, hard enough to drive my upper body forward—and on thewrong damn side. That one, I felt through my spine. For a moment, I can’t even take a breath. My legs are trembling, my ass is burning, and I can’t hold my position.
“No,” he admonishes. “Keep it up.”
What a goddamn sadist.
I force myself to lift my ass up, holding it for him. Offering myself, the way he wanted me to, ready for the next spank.
How the hell long is he going to keep this up? Is he even going to balance it?
Why does that bug me so much?
“You look so beautiful like that,” he says, tone almost reverent.
In that moment, I’m conscious he hasn’t spoken in anger since we started this. He’s punishing me, not because he’s angry, but because hewantsto. It’s not out of uncontrolled passion, it’sdeliberate.
His touch returns, fingertips running lightly over my cheeks. Dipping in between, brushing along my crack. It’s sensitive, and I can’t help but squirm. A noise slips out past the thong, but I fight to keep my ass up, not giving him an excuse to punish me more.
His fingers find their way lower, between my legs. And why wouldn’t they? He’s making me present myself to him like this.
“Do you know how fucking wet you are?”
I didn’t, not really. Not until he touched me. Suspected, yes. But I didn’t know.
Now I do, because his fingers don’t rub through my folds, theyglide.
And it feels so goddamn good.
He chuckles again. It’s only when I hear that mocking, masculine sound that I realize I whimpered. Or was it a moan? I don’t know, I’m past caring. Hisfingers flick across my opening, dip lower still, teasing me, then draw back up.
One slides inside me.
I can’t help it. I clench, my body tensing, his single digit stroking within. The moan that escapes is the deepest yet, and it’s totally out of my control.
He doesn’t say anything, he merely draws his finger back, then pushes in again. Penetrating me. Rubbing me. His finger’s so deep, his knuckle finds my g-spot. I writhe, my hips doing whatever the hell they want. And the worst bit? It’s even easier to keep my ass raised, because Iwanthim there. Iwanthis finger inside me.
So of course, it slips away.
I whimper at its loss, long and high, the sound as involuntary as any of the rest of them. My ass twitches in the air, like it’s searching for that penetration again.
“You don’t think we’ve finished do you?” He asks, voice low. “Vicky, we’ve only just begun.”
His touch returns, fingertips dancing through my folds, rubbing my wetness around. My thighs are slick, my pussy aches for something to fill it, my bottom still hurts. And his hand on the back of my neck hasn’t let up once. He’s still keeping me pinned.
Then he finds my clit, and my hips jerk. I can’t help it. I’msoaroused, so helpless, and he’s been tormenting me for so long. A fingertip rubs across it, and I clench my eyes tight. He already knows my body. He already knows what works, and he clearly hasn’t forgotten, despite it being so long. A few lightstrokes from side to side. A flick or two up and down. Then he circles it, the pressure not quite firm enough, his touch teasing.
I moan my need, ass lifting higher in silent plea for more. It’s not a choice, it’s a reaction.
A second fingertip joins the first, circling in sync, flicking around and around. My hips are doing whatever the hell they like, my thighs are weak, and I’msoturned on. The sounds I’m making are nonstop, and my hands claw at his sheets.
Then he takes my clit between finger and thumb, and pinches hard.
And I explode.
My orgasm rips through me, and I cry out. Body shuddering, muscles tensing, one leg quivering so hard I half-fall to the bed. His hand stays with me, fingers deftly rubbing and flicking, prolonging the ecstasy.
“There we are,” he says, the words barely a breath. “That’s my Vicky. That’s where you’ve been hiding, all this time. Now I know.”
