3 - Punish Me
Summer
Holy shit.
My body trembled, his warm, firm hand finally holding me and spanking me like I wanted. I had been eyeing his veiny hands—sue me, I love masculine hands—and imagining them wrapping around my neck, sucking on his fingers, and moaning when he fucks me with them. I was at my limit, and finally he touched me.
I arched my back and looked over my shoulder with a small smirk. "Maybe this is what I wanted all along, Sir," I said, my voice soft and sultry. "Punish me."
A small gasp escaped my throat when he wrapped his hand around my hair, tugging it until I was forced to look in the mirror across from us. My hair fell in waves around us, and I shivered at the sight of him fully clothed in his suit and me naked. Light fell over his sharp, handsome face, creating shadows and making him look stern and intimidating. But my eyes were gleaming, seeing his tall and broad body pinning me to the bed, manhandling me.
Yes. This is what I have been craving all this time.
Not any fumbling hands from guys, asking to kiss me for the umpteenth time while we were in bed.
This. Him. The feel of his hard, muscular body pressing against my back, his harsh, warm breath fanning over my neck.
"Beg," his deep voice commanded. I bit my lip when he squeezed my ass and growled in my ear, "Use that dirty little mouth and beg me to spank you, kitten."
"Please," I breathed out, arching and pushing back against him. I wanted to touch him. Wanted him to touch me everywhere. "Please spank me, Daddy."
I bit my cheek and waited.
"Oh, you bratty little kitten," he whispered softly. "I'm going to teach you a lesson today, and you're going to thank me every time I spank you."
I smirked and looked over my shoulder when he pulled back. "What lesson are you going to teach me, Master?"
My stomach clenched with nerves seeing the impassive expression on his masked face. Instead of lowering his zipper and fucking me like I expected him to, he tilted his head.
"Remember this," he started, loosening his tie and keeping his eyes pinned on me. "When your ass hurts, that little tongue of yours is to blame. Now, be a good girl and keep your wrists together. Or I will, and you won't like it when I do."
My mouth dried up as I followed his instructions. There was something about his tone that made me feel on edge and that I should really heed his orders. My thighs squeezed together when he leaned over me and tied my wrists together with his tie. His hard body, even through the thin shirt, felt warm and inviting when it pressed against my back. I watched his long fingers expertly craft a tie, securing my wrists together. He tugged at it a few times, and when it didn't open, he pulled away. I instantly craved his warmth and the intoxicating smell of his cologne, but I shut up.
I jumped when he spanked my ass. "Nuh uh, keep your legs spread. I like seeing your pretty pussy," he said, his polished shoe tapping my ankle. "Wider, kitten. That's a good girl."
Fuck. Him. The pet name was already infuriating, but his praise made me want to be good.
"The lesson I'll be teaching you today is how to behave and be grateful," he said, his voice taunting me. I looked at the mirror and my eyes widened, watching him remove his belt. The sound of the metal buckle made me swallow, and I tightened my grip on the tie that was wrapped around my wrists.
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