Okay. Easy, Lia. He’s only trying to scare you. He’s going to have sex with you now.
“I’m going to spank you,” he breathes.
Oh... fuck.
My ass is still tender from all his ‘non-punishment’ spankings. I’m not so sure I want to find out what the real thing looks like.
The strangled noise that escapes my lips must sound a little too much like a nervous laugh, because I can feel him stiffen behind me.
“Think it’s funny, huh?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to tell him I don’t, but unable to say a word.
“Think I don’t have it in me to hurt you?”
I lick my dry lips helplessly as he strokes up and down my thigh with one finger.
“What do you think of me, hmm, Lia? Think I’m pathetic? Weak? A loser? Isn’t that what you used to call me?Loser?”
I shake my head furiously.
“Oh, really? You don’t remember calling me that?”
His finger now starts up the same stroking pattern on the other thigh, from my knee to the place where my ass meets my thigh, and back. It’s soft and feels good, and yet, it doesn’t relaxme. I sense all his threat, all his danger, in the feather-light touch.
“I do remember,” I whisper, as he continues his maddening torture. “I’m sorry, Logan.”
“Hmm. The problem, Lia, is that I don’t believe you. You’re naughty, and I’m going to punish you.”
“I’m not a kid,” I force out, unwilling to give in to the fear that’s beating down on my chest.
The deep chuckle that leaves his lips feels even more dangerous than his touch, but somehow, it has my stomach clenching.
“I’m not going to spank you like a kid. I’m going to spank you like a grown woman. And it’s going to hurt, Lia.”
I don’t doubt his words for a second. I try and fail to swallow, my throat as parched as my lips.
He lifts his hand up and I wince, bracing for contact. But then he pauses. “If it hurts too much,” he murmurs, his voice softer than before, “redstill counts. It always counts. I’ll stop.” Another beat, and then, “I can always find some other way to hurt you.”
He doesn’t give me time to brace again before his hand falls hard on my ass.
Fuck!
He wasn’t kidding when he said it would hurt. I try to keep my cry in my throat, but as his hand descends again and again, each blow a hot iron that makes my nerves explode, loud strangled yelps escape my lips. Any awareness of how obscene I must look in my stomach-down, ass up position, quickly fades and I squirm desperately under his hand, revealing every part of me, frantically trying to wriggle away.
In vain. He grabs my wrists and pins them to my back, sitting down on my knees, and the way he’s got me trapped is so much more embarrassing than before. My legs are parted, and Ijust know he sees the wetness that incomprehensibly gathers as his hand assaults my flesh.
By the time he pauses, tears are streaming down my cheeks, and my whole body aches from trying to escape him.
“Is itred, Lia?” he murmurs.
Yes, yes, yes!
“No!” I gasp.
“No?” he chuckles in disbelief.
What the hell is wrong with me?