Belle tried to wiggle away, but Victor straddled her, using his thick, tree-trunk sized thighs to hold her in place.
“Hold still,” he demanded.
She did.
Belle had never been with a dominant lover before Victor, so she hadn’t realized she possessed this innate submissiveness that longed to please. When she read romance books, she tended to go for the spicy ones with possessive, touch-her-and-die vibes, but she hadn’t realized just how deeply those resonated with her. She’d read them as a way to get her motor revving pre-masturbation, thinking the fantasy of them were hot, but never truly seeing herself in the role of the heroine.
Victor was bringing the fantasies to life, and they were revealing a side of her she’d never let herself acknowledge or even recognize.
He spanked her again. This time, the smack was a little lighter, lower down, more on her upper thigh than ass.
Belle’s initial self-preservation reaction had been driven by the sharp, sudden, unexpected pain, but now that she was anticipating the blows, the sensations were different.
Victor smacked her yet again. This time, his hand lingered, squeezing the heated skin he’d just reddened. His grip drew out the sting, but not in a bad way.
Belle shuddered, feeling the fresh round of juices wetting her thighs.
Victor never asked her if she was okay. He’d said he trusted her to tell him if anything hurt, and he’d held firm to that. Which she loved. Because nothing pulled her out of her head quicker than a guy asking for permission or constantly wanting validation that she liked what he was doing. Trevor was the worst about that, always asking, “Does that feel good?” or, “Do you like that?” It had driven her crazy. Was yet another reason why she’d broken things off with him.
After a brief pause, Victor must have taken her silence as assent, because when he lifted his hand next, he placed half a dozen quick smacks to her ass and thighs, the burn spreading throughout her body.
“God!” she gasped, her hips lifting of their own accord, chasing more of his delicious spanking.
Victor gave her what she wanted. He spanked one cheek, then the other. Then he ran his fingers along her slit before thrusting three in deeply.
One thrust.
Three fingers.
That was all it took as lightning struck and Belle jerked around like a rag doll in a hurricane, the unexpected orgasm a million times more powerful than the first one. And that one had already felt like a nuclear explosion.
Victor held still within her, his fingers no longer moving but filling her just right.
Once she recovered—ha ha—he slipped them free, bending forward to place a kiss on her butt cheeks. “I’ve been wanting to paint this pretty ass red for weeks.”
She struggled to pull in air, but still managed to gasp, “What took you so long?”
Victor laughed, and her heart squeezed at the sound because it wasn’t one of his low chuckles. This was a true laugh, one filled with joy.
She glanced over her shoulder, drinking in his light expression. Victor caught her looking and smirked.
“Panty-dropping kryptonite?” he asked.
“Every fucking time.”
“Language,” he said, mimicking her. “I should probably move the swear jar up here because something tells me this is where therealmoney will be made.”
This time, they laughed together as Victor gripped her shoulder, twisting her to her back. His laughter grew when she winced at the pressure on her now-sore ass.
She narrowed her eyes at his obvious delight in her discomfort.
“Crawl up to the middle of the bed,” he commanded.
Belle managed to get there, sluggishly, weak after two brutally beautiful orgasms. It was crazy to recall there was a time when she actually considered herself a one-and-done girl. She was no longer satisfied with just one, greedy for as much as he would give her.
Victor started to climb over her, but it was her turn to hold him back. She placed her hand flat against his chest and shoved. Her resistance caught him off guard, and he frowned.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, when she sat up—gingerly—then twisted until she was his mirror image, the two of them facing each other in the kneeling position.