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But at the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to think about all the ways he had already betrayed his oldest and best friend tonight, because he wasn’t done yet. He had made Erika a promise.
And Dorian did not break his promises.
She couldn’t possibly know the picture she made, Dorian thought as he gazed at her now, or how badly he wanted her.
He had spanked her hard and she’d pinkened beautifully, so that high, round ass of hers was bright and getting redder by the second. He could see the pouting lips of her pussy when she bent forward slightly, still holding up that skirt to give him a better view. Her blond hair was a tousled mess from all that thrashing around on the couch, her face was tearstained, and her eyes were wide and glazed.
But best of all, bratty little Erika Vanderburg was looking at him as if she’d seen God. And better still, wanted some hard, wild communion.
He was so hard it hurt.
He’d never intended to do more than spank her. Teach her a lesson.
Liar, something in him laughed.
But she was looking at him with awe and greed and he felt the same thing return—and then some. And he couldn’t think about all the reasons why he shouldn’t do exactly what she’d asked him to do.
“Hands and knees,” he ordered her in a growl. “Right there.”
She rushed to obey him, and he almost laughed at the sight. She was so wound up, it hadn’t yet occurred to her how much she’d changed between the hallway at the club and here. How eager she was to obey him, with her pupils dilated and her pulse wild.
Erika liked a hard hand, he’d discovered. She bloomed under discipline. He made a note of that as if he planned to expand on that discovery—
But this wasn’t the time to second-guess himself.
Dorian reached into the drawer in his side table and pulled out a condom. He knelt behind her, freed his aching cock from his trousers and sheathed himself. Then he gripped her lush hips, making sure his hands pressed into her reddened flesh. She made a whimpering sound, but pushed back to get closer to him.
It made him smile.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he told her, wanting to sound cool but coming out gravelly instead. But that worked, too. “You may come whenever you like, but if you do not, you’re out of luck. You can’t touch your clit. You can’t rub yourself against me. I want you to submit, take it and see what happens. Do you understand me?”
Her head fell forward, as if she could no longer hold it up. As if the idea of submission on that scale made her weak.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered.
Dorian lined himself up with the entrance to her pussy, pressing his fingers into the curves of her ass because he knew it would sting. And remind her what she’d already taken. She shuddered, and he could smell how wet she was. How ready.
God help him, but she was a wonder.
He took a split second to admire her, there on her hands and knees, her ass red from his hand and her pretty pussy on display and ready to be split wide-open by him.
It was almost perfect.
“Put your face on the floor,” he told her. “Hands behind your back, please.”
She blew out a breath, then obeyed with a certain graceless alacrity that pleased him more than studied grace would have—because it meant she was too excited to contain herself. And better still, his grip on her meant he kept her pussy right there, pressed against his wide cockhead. As she shifted, he coated himself in her and had to hold himself back, hard.
When her hands were behind her back and her forehead was nestled against the oversoft, cushy rug beneath them, he wrapped one hand around her wrists and held them there. Maybe a little higher than she would have naturally, to make it fun.
“Thank me,” he commanded her. “For showing you this consideration and allowing for the possibility of your pleasure in the midst of this punishment.”
He felt the shudder work its way through her, and he loved the way goose bumps prickled all over her skin. She was so responsive. He was already thinking of all the wicked things he could do to make her shudder like that, over and over again.
Dorian hadn’t been this pleased and impressed by a submissive in a long, long while.
“Thank you, sir,” Erika moaned. “Thank you, thank you.”
And with absolutely no warning, he slammed himself home.
