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“And you haven’t seen how persistent I can be,” I responded with equal parts warning and promise.
With zero hesitation, and most certainly without asking for permission, I took hold of her pants, yanked her toward me, and reached for the button.
Ari reacted with a sharp intake of breath, her body momentarily stiffening before melting into the force of my pull. Her eyes, alight with a fiery mix of surprise and excitement, never left mine as I undid the button and slowly dragged down the zipper. The sound seemed to reverberate through the room like a prelude to the storm that was about to ensue.
I slipped my hands beneath her pants’ waistband, pushing them down just enough to reveal the smooth skin underneath. “Have you ever cried for a man before?”
Her eyes darkened. “Cry? For a man?” she scoffed. Her voice carried the echo of past scorn but with an undercurrent of intrigue. “I don’t cry.”
Heat emanated from her skin beneath my fingertips. “You’re about to.”
A flicker of something undefinable crossed Ari’s face—trepidation or the thrill of the unknown? She took a deliberate step backward, her pants slipping further down but catching on the curve of her hips. The motion was a silent acknowledgment of the power I wielded in that moment.
“You’re awfully confident,” she said, deliberately teasing, clearly trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation.
But her body betrayed her; the involuntary shiver that coursed through her when I traced her exposed skin with my fingers spoke volumes.
My response was a low chuckle, a sound that seemed to fan the flames of her internal conflict. “I’m going to spank that ass of yours until your tears streak that beautiful face.” I dropped my voice to a husky timbre as I closed the gap between us once more. “It’s going to hurt. And you’re going to plead for me to stop as you try to fight me off. But I also know that deep inside, you’re also going to secretly hope I don’t.”
Ari’s jaw tightened, and her breathing quickened—telltale signs that I had struck a chord. “You think you know so much,” she shot back, but this time the defiance that usually colored her words was tinged with an edge of curiosity.
I allowed myself a small, self-assured smile. “I know enough.”
The air around us crackled with an electric energy that could power a city for hours. This was no longer merely a game of pushing boundaries; it was an intricate dance on a tightrope of desire and control.
With my hands still resting on her hips, I felt the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her underwear. She made no move to fix her pants. Instead, she waited, watched, and wondered what my next move would be.
I traced patterns across her hips, moving my fingers slowly toward the small of her back, applying pressure in just the right spots to make her lean into my touch.
“Bend over your desk like a good girl,” I commanded as I lowered her panties to bare her perfect pussy.
Ari’s hesitation was fleeting, a brief dance of uncertainty in her eyes before it was replaced by the resolute glint of a woman who was no stranger to challenges. She pivoted gracefully, the half-fallen pants now an afterthought as they pooled around her ankles, and she approached the desk with an air of defiance that made her every movement a taunt.
With a fluid motion, she bent over the desk, her hands splayed across the smooth surface for support. The vulnerability of her position was a stark contrast to the fierce independence that oozed from her persona, yet there she was, presenting herself to me.
I took a moment to appreciate the view—the curve of her back arching down to the fullness of her behind, presented as though it were an offering to the gods of desire.
I hovered my hand above her skin, an unspoken threat that sent shivers through her frame. Then, without warning, I brought it down sharply. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed off the walls, and a rosy hue bloomed across her skin where my hand had made contact.
Ari let out a gasp, a sound caught between pain and pleasure, and I could sense the battle raging within her—to maintain composure or to surrender to the sensations overtaking her body.
I struck again, harder this time, and watched as she gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles whitening with the effort to remain silent.
I wasn’t going light on her, and I had no intentions of doing so.
Over and over, I brought my hand down on her upturned ass, knowing she wouldn’t let down her wall easily.
Her breathing became ragged as I continued, each slap a wordless communication that tested and broke down barriers. With every strike, Ari’s resistance frayed at the edges until soft whimpers began to spill from her lips.
