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He spanked my pussy hard several more times and the sting only continued to build. It folded in on itself, over and over until I keened with rising panic. In a moment, he’d taken control and torn it away from me. I struggled to keep my feet on the floor and my cries escalated with my struggle until at long last the spanks stopped.
The throbbing that followed was mortifyingly intense. My clit pulsed harder than ever, and I closed my eyes, unable to look at him as a single drop of arousal slid down my inner thigh. My heart pounded in my chest, and I struggled to normalize the panting breaths that sounded hoarse even to me.
Without pause, he cupped my pussy once more and I openly flinched, unable to stop the way I cried out with nervous anticipation of a harder spanking on my already very tender flesh. Instead, his fingers slipped inside my folds, and he found my aching clit, circling it and pressing firmly against it with intention. I mewled quietly in surprise as he teased me.
The dichotomy between his gentleness and his roughness was vast, but for some strange reason I found it oddly compelling. I didn’t know what he would do next and that made my pussy far wetter than it had ever been before.
He teased and taunted me with those masterful fingers, building and coaxing even more arousal forth than I thought possible. He slid over my clit lightly and a soft breathy moan echoed around me, pitifully needy and terribly wanting.
“Your little pussy is so very wet after I spanked it bright pink, little girl,” he observed, and that single finger continued to torture my clit with agonizingly perfect intention. For several long moments, he held me on the cusp of orgasm, and I shook against him, digging my nails into my palm as his fingers squeezed tight around my wrist. I didn’t know if I wanted to come, but I was sure ready to fall apart on his fingertips right now. I almost needed to.
His hand pulled away and I cried out in despair. The painful jolt of denial cut quickly to my core, and I couldn’t stop myself from pouting a bit in disappointment, but he didn’t allow me to wallow in it for long.
He dragged his wet fingers across my face.
My lips opened in a small circle, and I couldn’t hide my blatant surprise. He continued, spreading my own wetness across my cheek. He did that until his fingers were dry. He kept his eyes level with mine as he reached back down, gathering more of my arousal before dragging it across the other side of my face.
He covered both my cheeks, my chin, the tip of my nose as well as my lips. There was so much of it that I shivered with shame, feeling a heated flush rise over my cheeks. There was no hiding how embarrassed I was, nor how aroused this was making me either. By the time he was finished, my entire face felt slick with my own arousal. It cooled as it started to dry, but I could feel its stickiness on my skin.
I nervously licked my lips, tasting my musky sweetness as I did so. I whimpered softly and his grin widened even further.
My chest rose and fell as I forced in one long breath after the next. I tried to grapple with my shame all on my own, but he didn’t let me.
“I will give you another chance to shower later, my disobedient little bride,” he murmured, and a nervous cry hitched in the back of my throat.
“Please,” I began, but I clamped my lips shut as he shook his head. Gently, he pulled me forward, guiding me away from the wall. He adjusted my skirt, guiding it down so that it covered my bare wet pussy as well as my ass. I chewed on my lower lip, feeling unsteady, embarrassed and so out of
my depth that I couldn’t think of a single thing to do.
“Come. It’s time for you to choose your wedding dress,” he responded curtly. He left no room for argument as he led me forward, but I didn’t have anything to say anyway. He guided me out of his bedroom and with every step, my pussy pulsed with need and a sharp stinging ache. I was horrified at the thought that I was actually grateful not to be wearing any panties, because my pussy was that sore. I stared at the back of his head.
This man was downright diabolical.
I couldn’t stop thinking about how I was wet enough that he could coat my whole face with it. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I hardly noticed as he led me through the suite back into his office where there was a prim-looking woman waiting by a clothing rack with her hands folded in front of her. I looked from her to Grayson, and I swallowed hard.
I hoped my face wasn’t glistening.
I could feel the blush rising as I thought about what she might be able to discern from the haphazard way my skirt was pulled down my waist. I tried to school my expression as much as humanly possible, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that she probably had already figured out what had happened in his bedroom.
Would she have heard him spanking my pussy?
She turned around and I was left to wallow in the unknown while she started unzipping the fabric encasing the clothing rack. She uncovered what looked like three dozen wedding dresses and I gasped, taking in the varying colors of lace and embroidered fabric.
It was like he’d had a bridal shop brought here for me.
“Every dress has been ordered in your size. I bought all of them. You just need to pick out your favorite,” he explained, and I just looked at him.
“You bought them?” I echoed.
“Yes,” he answered simply. “You will pick one and that will be that.”
I scoffed and shook my head. He still thought I was just going to marry him.
“I refuse to be your bride. Find someone else,” I spat.
“There is no one else,” he answered, and I glared in his direction.
“I’m not going to choose any of them. You can’t make me,” I growled. The moment the words fell off my lips, I wished I could take them back. His eyes dropped precariously fast to my pussy, and I was instantly reminded of how harsh his palm had felt when he’d punished me there. I swallowed hard and turned away, hating the way my face only heated further and gave away my shame.
