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Luke’s brows went up as he pondered me. “You think you deserve a slap?”
“Yes.”
“And how about my dick?”
“Yes. And your kiss, and your spit, and your cum.”
He tightened his fingers against the side of my face, and then drew his hand back and lightly smacked me. It wasn’t hard, not like he’d hit me in the past, but enough for a sting to light up my cheek. I smiled. “See? That wasn’t so bad, Sir.”
He made a blustery noise, and then smacked me a little harder. Ilaughed, a burble of happiness.
Luke slid his coat off, tossed it onto the bed next to me, and then slapped my other cheek experimentally. “Do you like that?”
“Love it, Sir.”
He did it again, harder. “Still like it?”
“Yes.”
And the game was on.
“Your safe word is poodle.” He pulled his sweater over his head, tossed it to the floor, and then kicked it aside. He toed off his shoes and stood in front of me in just his jeans and socks. I licked my lips, lifted my chin, and slid to the ground, kneeling between his toes. I tilted my head way back, gazing up at him. The green, glowing stars above the bed formed a halo behind his shaggy blond hair, and his eyes glinted.
Luke twined his hands in my hair, tugging lightly, and then he cupped his hands around my head and shoved my face into his crotch. I mouthed his jeans where his dick was pressing, kissing and lightly biting the tight material. He hissed.
“Fucking brat,” he muttered, clenching his fingers in my hair more tightly, and then releasing me to undo his jeans. “Hungry for my dick?”
“Yes, Sir,” I murmured, kneeling back and opening my mouth wide in invitation.
He huffed, cursing under his breath, as he wrenched his fly open and withdrew his cock. I waited as he tapped the tip against my bottom lip and then wiped the head over my tongue, letting me taste his pre-cum.
“Choke me with it, Sir,” I whispered. “Give your boy what he wants.”
“This is about what I want.” Luke’s lips twisted with a familiar sadistic smirk, and my heart rate picked up, thudding in my ears.
“Yes,” I hissed, and then yelped in pain as he grabbed hold ofone of my ears, hauled me to my feet, and pulled me toward the horse.
“Get naked, bitch. Get on it.”
I laughed again, and Luke slapped my face hard. I hiccupped with a wild, gleeful joy that was laced with hot tears as I pulled my crop top over my head and started to carefully fold it. Luke snatched it from my hands and threw it aside. “Don’t dawdle. Get your fucking ass on that horse, or I’ll make you see stars.”
I had to fight another grin, but I worked my skirt down and threw it to the side too. Climbing on the horse, I realized I was shaking. Was it with cold from the chill of winter seeping into the subterranean basement? Or was it with excitement that I was about to submit to intense sensations that I’d been too afraid to play with for the last few weeks? Both.
The braided rug dug into my dick as I got into position, ass up and straddling the bench. I placed my face in the donut head support as Luke latched my ankles and wrists, my head and waist, and then came around to run his hand into my hair. “Use your safe word if you need it.”
“Yes, Sir.” I giggled. I was giddy, and the rising hysteria in me was as much relief as it was anxiety.
“Something funny?” Luke growled.
“No, Sir.”
“Hmmph.”
I jolted as a wicked slap landed on my ass, exploding sensation through my hip and haunch. I grunted, my humor drying up instantly and my pulse thudding in my ears. Another rough smack came down, and I cried out. Luke slid his hand over my back as he walked toward my head and knelt down. His mouth tickled my ear as he whispered, “Doing all right?”
“Yes, Sir,” I answered. “Please. Treat me like your cock’s slave. Your slutty little bitch. Your cum-hungry boy.”
Luke hummed as he stood and moved behind me. He gripped my ass cheeks, spread me wide, and exposed my hole. “Gorgeous little cum dumpster.”
