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“Don’t make me repeat myself. If you’re not interested, say so now.”
Oh, I wasdefinitelyinterested.
I scrambled onto his lap, putting myself at his mercy. His cock prodded me in the stomach, my breasts smashed against his thigh. I had no idea what he was going to do next, and that thrilled me. I loved surprises. I loved not knowing what to expect.
“Mm.” He smoothed his hand over my ass. “Good girl.”
I squeezed my thighs together, and he hummed with satisfaction.
“You like that, huh?” he asked.
I bit my lip and nodded. I liked everything about it. The tone of his voice. The feel of his hand on my skin. The words he used.
“You want my touch?” he asked, and I nodded again. “I need words, Elle.”
“I—” I swallowed. “Yes. I want more.”
“Good.” He seemed pleased, and my chest vibrated from the compliment. He lifted the hem of the dress, the cool air hitting my bare skin. “Love this ass. You have no idea the things I’ve imagined doing to it.”
I was dizzy. Delirious. Dreaming. I was positive of it. All the blood rushing to my head as I lay across his hip for him to do as he pleased.
He slid his hand beneath the strap of my thong, and it added pressure to my clit. If my panties hadn’t been wet before, they were soaked now. He gave it a little tug, and I inhaled through my nose and let it out slowly.
His hand disappeared, and then I felt a smack. I jolted, but his other hand was on my lower back, holding me firmly in place. Assuring me that I was safe. Cherished.
He smoothed the burn with his hand, but I wanted more. Again. Harder. I wiggled my ass on his lap, needing…friction.Something.
“Mm. Youdolike being spanked.” He gave my ass another slap. “Though I already suspected as much.” He soothed the skin with his palm. “God, how you torture me. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
When I didn’t answer, he spanked me again, this time a little harder, as if he were gently testing my limits. “When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”
“Ye-yes.” My nipples brushed against the material of the dress, my breasts heavy and aching for his touch. “And no. I didn’t know that.” But I’d hoped.
“Good. Should I reward you?”
I whimpered. And when I tried to glance back at him, he applied pressure to my upper back, holding me in place. “Yes, please.”
He spread my ass cheeks wide with his hands, tracing my thong with his finger. “You’re dripping for me.”
“Does that please you?” I dared to ask.
“Very much so,” he nearly growled, and it made me wetter still.
I was completely at his mercy, and I absolutely loved it. I loved the way he touched me—possessively yet tenderly. I loved the way he spoke to me, his own desire barely restrained. And I wondered what it would take to push him over the edge.
He continued smoothing his hand over my ass, and I was breathless with anticipation for what would come next. He was barely touching me, and already he’d worked me into a frenzy. I moaned when he slid his finger down my slit. Jolted when he pulled back my thong and then let it go, allowing it to flick against my sensitive skin.
Again, I squeezed my thighs together. Squirming. Aching.
And again, he applied pressure to my back so I was pinned in place. “Patience,” he chided. “If you’re patient, you’ll be rewarded. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I breathed, my thoughts hazy. As much as I wanted a reward, my patience was running low after being brought to the brink of orgasm twice now and having to wait.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he slid his hand down my ass. He teased my clit through my panties, my arousal perfuming the air. He took his time, building my pleasure until I thought I might burst. And then backing off again. Over and over, he brought me to the edge, until I was begging him for mercy.
“Please,” I moaned. “Oh god, Tristan.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Imagining his face. Imagining what we must look like, my body draped over his strong legs. His hand disappearing beneath my dress. The words indecent and erotic came to mind.
