He keeps walking, even when my hands land on his strong back, sliding down, trying to reach his ass, but I can’t make it. I’m too short. I kick again, and he, yup, spanks me again.
“Dominic Caveman Diaz!” I shout, and he laughs again. “Stop smacking my ass!”
He snorts with laughter and keeps walking between two giant hay bales at the back of the barn, as far away from the main road as possible. I reach over, twisting my body in a way my Pilates teacher would be proud of so I’m lying around his neck and I can see his handsome face.
A face that has a smile painted on it.
He keeps his firm hands on my legs, securing me in place, allowing me to contort myself into this position. He handles me easily, as if I weigh nothing. I take his chin between my fingers, tilting his head my way.
“Put me down.”
Dom narrows his gorgeous eyes, but where they usually look kind of sad and full of sorrow or anger, they are filled with mischief now. And I like it.
“Or what?” he asks, teasing me.
“Look who’s being a brat now.”
He reaches his hands over his head, lifting me by my waist and placing me on the ground effortlessly.
This playful side is thrilling, and I want to see it more. Just like the painting day the other night, when he lets his guard down and enjoys whatever he’s doing in the movement, he turns into this sweetie marshmallow of a man, and I’m obsessed.
My back is against the hay as he cages me in—his favorite position to be in, it seems.
“Are you done?” he asks.
“Never,” I reply. I don’t even know what he means, but I’m never done. Not when it comes to his joy.
He narrows his eyes, smirking, growling on the back of his throat.Oh, shit.“You know what happens when you’re a brat, Firefly?”
“You gonna spank me again, daddy?”
He groans again, fixing his dick in his pants and reaching over to my ear. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you? Me throwing you over my shoulder and smacking your ass when you kept acting like you were the one in control?”
I shiver at his tone; there’s no other way to describe it. His voice is so thick and deep, rushing through me all the way to the bundle of nerves between my legs. I have to squeeze my thighs and search for pressure and relief after he’s gotten me so damn worked up with just a few words.
The back of his fingers caresses my cheek, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Answer me, did you?”
“Yes,” I moan.
He bites my earlobe, humming against it. “I bet. Too bad naughty girls don’t get more of what they want; they get what they deserve.”
He pulls my pants down in one swoop, surprising me and making me gasp. He drags a finger between my folds, easily sliding down to my entrance, where I fear he’s going to find me even wetter than he might think.
“You’re always so ready for me, huh?”
I hum.
“Words,” he commands.
“Yes.”
He slides his thick finger in, curling it and reaching that spot I like so much. “Yes,” I moan this time.
He slides it out, faster than it went in, and I’m the one grunting this time.
“Ah, you don’t like it when I’m the one teasing you then?”
He drags two fingers down this time, not moving his giant body from in front of me or his mouth from the shell of my ear.This alone is driving me crazy. He slides those fingers in, repeating the movement from before.
