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Everyone in my life has always had an agenda. It’s always been about what they can get from me. A conversation with my father for a new business deal, or a meeting with my stepmother. There’s a hidden agenda behind every offer of friendship, but this doesn’t feel like that. This feels real. Like they actually care about me.
“No more trying to play detective.” Colt pats my ass, but even the gentleness is harsh against my sore flesh.
“I won’t,” I promise.
“All right then.” He lets my wrist go, and his other hand stills on my ass.
I push against the legs of the chair to get back to my feet, but he stops me.
“Where are you going?”
“You said all right.” I look over my shoulder at him to find a man full of hunger staring down at me.
“We’re not done here, sweetheart. We might have been, but then you locked yourself in that bathroom and wouldn’t open up. Every bit of disobedience gets punished.” He winks.
“But–” My words die when his hand slides between my ass cheeks and his fingers seek out the warmth between my thighs.
“Like I said: We’re not done.”
CHAPTER 8
Seraphina
Heat erupts across my face as his fingers easily glide through my wet folds. I clench my legs together, trapping his hand.
“Open up, sweetheart,” he coaxes me, wiggling his fingertips.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t mean to lock yourself in the bathroom?” Amusement dances in his voice.
I turn away again, gripping the legs of the chair and squeezing my eyes shut. Maybe I can just pretend he’s not here. I can get lost in my own mind and ignore him all together.
His finger brushes across my clit.
A shiver darts up my body.
“Open your legs for me.” He twists his hand. He could easily yank my thighs open and do whatever he wanted, but he’s requiring me to give myself to him. Hand myself over for the next punishment.
Clenching my teeth, I slowly maneuver my right leg off of his lap, which puts his knee too close to my clit.
Before I can readjust, he lifts his knee and digs his nails into the inside of my thigh. The burn of his nails and the sweetness of his knee pressing against my sex mingles together in the perfect dance.
I bite my lip. I shouldn’t be enjoying this.
Someone should tell my body.
The tip of his finger circles my clit as his knee moves up again. It’s just the right amount of pressure to make the heated pool in my stomach rise to a boil.
“You’re such a wet girl.” His voice drops to a low whisper. “Spanking you made your pussy all wet and ready.” Another finger, his thumb maybe, presses against my entrance.
I curl my toes into the carpeting. The pain of the spanking melts into this new sensation and it’s overwhelming and sinful, and perfect.
“Are you a virgin, Seraphina?” His finger dips past my entrance.
“No.” But it’s been a while—a long while—since I’ve been touched like this by anyone other than myself.
Another finger pushes inside me, and I raise my hips, seeking out the sensation as he begins to thrust them in and out.
