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I opened them the tiniest bit.
“Wider,” he said darkly. His eyes turned stormy, bordering on black when I didn’t obey right away.
“Do you need another lesson over my knee, little girl?”
“No, sir,” I whispered, blushing even harder. I opened my legs as widely as I dared. His gaze held mine.
Until it didn’t.
A moan of shame escaped me the moment he glanced down. I couldn’t look away from him, needing to know what he thought.
Would he think something was wrong with me, that I was broken for getting aroused from a spanking like that?
I tried to read his face, but it was a mask of mystery. I squirmed a little and his hands settled on my hips, holding me in place for his sordid perusal.
I hated it. An even more shameful part of me enjoyed it.
It made my core spiral tighter and my pussy clench hard.
His hands drew downward, pressing against the tops of my thighs as he stood before me.
“I am going to brew myself another cup of coffee. You will remain just like that unless you want to find out what my belt feels like on that sore little bottom,” he warned.
I shivered hotly.
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
I watched him as he returned to the coffeemaker. I studied the wide breadth of his shoulders, his strong arms hidden from view by the thick fabric of his suit, but I knew their power. I could feel it burning across my ass as I sat there on the bed. He glanced back at me a few times, but I didn’t move. My gaze drew down, staring at the conditioned black leather of his belt.
I shifted involuntarily as I imagined the stinging fire it would bring. How would he do it? Would he put me over his knee, or would he hold me down on the bed?
I swallowed hard, embarrassed of my seemingly shameless curiosity and of how much the thought of it turned me on.
He didn’t take very long to brew another cup, but it was enough for my entire body to set aflame with need. I could feel my heart pounding, the surge of blood through every limb and it was only growing more powerful by the second.
I desperately wanted to reach between my thighs and make myself come.
I wanted to hide. I didn’t know if I could bear him seeing me break apart like that. I chewed my lip. Would it be so bad though, to make myself come while he watched?
When he was done, he turned around and leaned against the counter, taking his time to just look at me.
With my sleepshirt hiked up around my waist, I felt on shameful display. I shivered with arousal.
“You’re soaking wet, little girl,” he observed.
He sipped his coffee slowly, taking his time to look me over from head to toe. His gaze returned to my pussy, making me shift needily. My thighs tensed, wanting to close and hide, but I stopped myself.
I remembered the threat of his belt.
There was no doubt in my mind that would hurt much more than his hand.
I searched his face again, needing to know if he thought me disgusting or broken for reacting this way, but I saw none of that.
In fact, I saw the same raw arousal in his eyes staring back at me. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him right now.
Why was he waiting then? Was it to torture me? Did he enjoy that?
I fidgeted on the bed and my thighs closed just the slightest bit. He raised an eyebrow and I instantly corrected myself. With a hard swallow, I realized that I was growing even wetter. My need was overwhelming. I wanted more than anything to run to him and jump into his arms.
