“You haven’t said yes, daddy. Does that mean you need some convincing?” He scrapes his teeth along my neck, and I groan again.
“No, shit, I mean yes…” I press my ass into him, feeling his hard length and wiggling until it settles between my asscheeks. “I mean yes, daddy. I’ll take whatever you give me.”
He chuckles, biting down on my earlobe. “That’s my good girl. Take off this robe and bend over the sink. I want you to watch me as I paddle your ass.”
My throat closes around a low sound trying to climb out.
“You’re still holding my hair,” I say catching his eyes in the mirror.
He lifts his brow. “Figure it out.”
I want to roll my eyes at the arrogance in his voice, but I don’t want to ruin this moment. Instead, I keep my gaze locked with his while I untie the robe and let the satin material glide over my shoulders and fall into a puddle at our feet.
Pride floods his eyes. “Good girl. Now bend over.”
I lean forward, pressing my forearms against the chilled bathroom counter. He moves with me, keeping his grip firm but not pulling on my hair.
Stepping to my side, he lowers his gaze to my ass. He wets his lips, a man starved.
“Your ass is so pretty. I fucking love your curves.” Holding the brush, he grabs a handful of my asscheek, squeezing. “When I heard you telling Kaz you were cutting out carbs because your ass was getting too big, it took everything in me not to step in right there.”
He pulls my hair, bringing my head back more and smiling at me.
“Thank god you love those vatruskas so much.” He smiles as he mentions the danishes I’ve been known to devour on occasion.
“Was that you always asking Kaz’s housekeeper to make them?”
He laughs. “I may have mentioned how much you enjoy them.”
“Breaking into my apartment and putting security cameras, stalking me the last year, and now this? Maybe I should be the one holding the hairbrush.” I lift an eyebrow.
He raises his hand and brings the brush down hard against my ass. The impact pushes me forward half an inch, and I grunt from the initial contact. The sting spreads a moment later, but it’s lost in a new burst of pain with the second smack.
“I was kidding!” I try to laugh, but he’s lost to his rhythm.
Heat spreads quickly across my skin, first my ass, then blossoming in my chest, then lower to between my thighs. Each thump of the brush ignites a new flame of arousal until I’m moaning.
His fingers tighten in my scalp, creating a new sensation. Hot tingles mix with the sting of the brush.
“Your ass is so pretty, Babygirl. Nice and red.” He rubs the back of the brush over my abused skin. Dropping the brush to the countertop, he opts to use his hand next, slapping and grabbing my ass as though I’m his plaything.
I’ve never been more wet for a man in my life. When I catch his reflection in the mirror, he’s biting his lip. There’s a large knot of muscle in his jaw, as though he’s fighting to remain in control.
I arch my back, lifting my ass up toward him, and he growls. It’s pure animal, the way he looks at me now.
“Fuck, Babygirl. I need you.” He strokes his hand over my ass, down my thighs.
I reach behind and hook my fingers into his towel, tugging until he brings his eyes to mine.
“I need you, too.” The words are heavy, hanging in the air for a long moment before they crash to the floor. His expression softens as he understands I’m not talking just about this, about his touch and his cock. I’m talking about him.
When I bring my gaze to meet his, my breath catches. Emotion, filled with everything we’ve never put into words for each other, fills his expression. It’s not something I hear him say, but something I feel. A warmth, new and more intimate than the heat of his hand, spreads through my chest.
He releases his grip on me and pulls me up to my full height, spinning me to face him. He pushes my hair away from my face and kisses me everywhere. He kisses my cheeks, my chin, my forehead, the tip of my nose, before he claims my mouth.
I slide my hands around his waist, shoving the towel away. He steps into me, deepening the kiss. We’re swimming in passion. I’m barely able to keep myself from drowning. And I’m not sure I want to.
His breath is hot against my skin when he finally breaks away and presses his forehead to mine. I lick my lips, the taste of him lingering. Reaching between us, I wrap my hand around his cock, drawing a pained groan from him. I stroke him, and his fingers curl, biting into me as he grips my face.
