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Smack!
The sound of his huge hand slapping my bottom cracked through the room, registering just before the shocking sting. I sucked in a gasp, and he spanked me again before I had a chance to release it on a sharp cry. I squirmed over his lap, seeking to move away from the impact of his palm.
“Mateo!” I protested, tugging against his iron hold.
Judging by his body’s reaction, he liked when I cried out his name. His cock was a hard rod beneath my belly, straining against the confines of his jeans. His grip firmed around my wrists, keeping me pinned as he continued to pepper stinging blows all over my tender flesh.
My skin was on fire, and he made sure to evenly distribute the heat all over my bottom and upper thighs, leaving no sensitive spot unpunished.
Something strange was happening to me. Although the spanking stung fiercely, the heat of his unrelenting, punitive hand sank beneath the surface of my skin. It permeated my body in my most vulnerable places, joining with the warmth between my legs and stoking it to a conflagration. My labia became swollen and achy, and my clit pulsed.
My struggles to get away slowly shifted into needy writhing, and I tried to seek relief by stimulating myself on his thigh.
A harder blow crashed down on my bottom, a shocking rebuke.
“Naughty girl.” His chastisement was gravelly with his own desire. He delivered another stinging slap. “You can have your reward if you ask nicely when we’re done.”
“Please,” I whimpered. I wasn’t sure if I was begging for the spanking to stop or for more delicious, hot contact.
He released my wrists, and his fingers sank into my hair, tugging my head back. The position forced me to arch into his hand, rendering me helpless to do anything but accept his discipline.
“Tell me what you did wrong,” he commanded. His tone was deep and rough, but not with anger.
“I tried to leave,” I squeaked, quivering in his immobilizing hold.
He switched tactics, stroking my enflamed skin with his fingertips. I shuddered at the sudden contrasting sensation. My nerve endings jumped beneath his touch, more sensitive than I ever could have imagined. The slickness between my legs slipped down my inner thighs, and I barely had the presence of mind to keep them pressed together.
Another hard smack. “Are you sorry for disobeying me?”
“Yes.” I’d already been sorry before he’d started the spanking, but somehow, this scenario eased the guilt I’d been feeling. He wasn’t punishing me with emotional pain. He was exacting his discipline on my flesh, and I found that I much preferred this tactile method of correction.
He resumed stroking me, and I trembled under his hands. The tender touch alternating with the punitive slaps pulled me deeper into his thrall. Despite the fact that this was a punishment, it felt like a form of affection. Like he cared enough to see the lesson through rather than leaving me alone to simmer in guilt and anguish.
Suddenly, his short fingernails raked over my abused flesh, drawing a strangled cry from my chest.
“Promise me you won’t do it again.”
“I promise!” I swore, the last of my guilt leaving me in a rush, seared away by the heat of his hands. “I promise I won’t try to leave.”
I didn’t want to go anywhere. I wanted Mateo to keep touching me, and I didn’t care how. The intensity of his attention was so gratifying that it was almost overwhelming. I was greedy for more.
He rested his palm against my heated skin, his grip on my hair easing. He no longer tugged on the curled strands, but he didn’t release me from his hold. My cheek rested on his knee, and warmth leaked from my eyes to wet his jeans.
Was I crying? I wasn’t sad, and I wasn’t in pain.
He started petting me again, trailing his fingers all over the area he’d spanked. “Good girl.”
A shuddering sigh left my chest on a long exhale, and my eyes drifted closed as more tears fell. I floated in blissful peace, basking in Mateo’s praise and affection.
As he continued to touch my hypersensitive skin, I sank deeper, losing myself to the sweet sensation. All I could think about was how good it felt to have his hands on me. I became keenly aware of the pulsing between my legs, the throb so powerful that it caused desperate discomfort.
“I promised I wouldn’t hurt you. That didn’t hurt you, did it?” he asked, his voice rich and deep. He sounded as though he was at peace, too. Although I could still feel his insistent erection pressing into my belly, he wasn’t tense or frustrated.
“No, but…” I bit my lip, uncertain how to express what I was feeling. “I ache.”
I pushed back against his hand, seeking more.
His touch shifted, his fingers teasing between my closed legs. My clit was a hard, aching bud, my lower lips swollen and puffy. My thighs parted slightly, welcoming more without conscious thought.
