I can't deny that, even if I don't like the consequences. Or maybe, the worst part is admitting that I do. I do like the fucking consequences.
As he places his hands on my waist, his fingers digging into my flesh, I prepare myself.
And I’m not even mad anymore at him. I’m just so happy to be close to his body again.
Chapter 25. Liam
His voice drops to a low, dangerous tone. "You know what happens to boys who can't follow simple rules, don't you? They get reminded. Every. Single. Time. Until the lesson finally sticks," he says, pushing my sweatpants down, revealing my white briefs. Then he pulls them down too and runs his hand over my ass. He gets off on scolding me. Good thing I do too. It's my favorite part. I take a deep breath and grip the armrests of the chair, bracing myself, and I'm so, so hard.
Ethan's hand comes down hard on my left cheek, and I yelp.
"Oh, fuck!" It hurts much more than I expect for a slap, and the burning is exquisite.
My face keeps reddening as he continues, harder each time. I feel each slap, but the burning is constant. I struggle to stay still, but Ethan holds me firmly. I squirm and wriggle, making pathetic little noises.
"This is for putting your future at risk," he says, voice low and firm, and fuuuuuuuck, I'm dripping onto his thigh, trying to stay still but failing. He holds me firmer each time I move, and I love the grip of his hands. "What were you thinking? Do you understand how bad that was? You could have been sent away!" I moan and cry out, my body betraying me as my arousal grows with every spank. Ethan's hand is tireless, and he isn't done. Not even close.
The worst part, which is actually the best, is that I've neverfelt more vulnerable in my life. I can't make him stop. I can't run. All I can do is stay here and take it. I squirm and cry out again, but he holds me tight, no signs of stopping, and then he pins my legs with his, trapping me.
"Ow, ow, ow, fuck," I say, and the tears start. My ass is on fire. And I'm just tired. In pain, but especially tired. I haven't felt this tired in ages. Like all the exhaustion of all those years on my own catches up at once, and I just cry. Raw and ugly. But not bad. Blissful, the relief, the release, finally feeling him with me again. Finally not being alone.
He spanks me, over, and over, I cry and moan, squirm, and beg, and it doesn’t help, he keeps going, relentlessly, again and again.
After what feels like an eternity, he stops. I'm panting, my ass stinging with every breath. I'm desperate for it to be over, for him to let me up. But at the same time, I never want to leave his touch. I'm trapped in time, and everything that matters is my body on his body. He stays there, rubbing my back, soothing me. I stop crying, but I feel completely drained. Like he's emptied me out.
"It's okay. It's okay. Good boy. I'm so proud of you," he says.
It breaks me completely.
"I missed you," I whisper into his thigh. My voice is wrecked. "I missed you so much. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you. I'm sorry for the weed. I'm sorry for everything."
His hand pauses on my back. Then resumes, slower.
"I missed you too," he says, quietly. "And I'm sorry I hurt you. I just... I was scared of losing you."
"You won't lose me, you idiot. You're stuck with me."
"Good," he says, and his voice cracks just slightly. "Don't do that to me again."
"Don't ignore me again, ever."
"Deal."
I press my face harder into his thigh. We're okay. We're going to be okay.
"You can get up now," he says after a minute, "but it doesn't seem like you want to. You're rubbing yourself on my leg."
I don't even realize I'm doing it. But he's right. I'm grinding against his thigh like a pathetic little animal. I don't feel shocked. I don't think I can feel any more embarrassed. Like I've hit peak embarrassment. So, I look up at him, still draped over his knees, still feeling his heavy hands on my back.
Ethan doesn't move for a moment. Just lets me rut against him, his palm sliding up under my shirt, dragging along my spine. He laughs, and the sound shoots electricity straight to my cock.
"You really like getting punished, hmm?" he says. "Or maybe you just like me bossing you around. Or both."
The only sound I make is a whimper. My face goes hotter. My brain is static. I try to push myself up, but he grabs me, flips my body so fast I'm almost airborne, and then I'm sitting across his lap, legs straddling his thigh. He laces his fingers in my hair, tugging my head back.
"You want to cum, don't you, pet?" he says, and when he calls me that, I go feral. His smirk grows. "Answer me."
"Fuck you," I say, but I'm laughing. He's still smirking when he grabs my face, fingers digging into my cheeks, forcing me to look at him.
