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“Gosh, Alex. No killing.”
He chuckles, pushing a strand of hair back from my face and kissing my forehead. “Those are my suggestions. What are yours?”
“Well, what if…” I’m chewing on my lower lip while I think. “What if we get Ottilie to call it off?”
Alexander quirks an eyebrow. “Go on.”
“If we make Ottilie not want to marry you, then your father will have to find another plan to get her father’s money. Which will give us time to figure out how to deal with this for good.”
By then, we’ll be back on campus, away from all this drama. It’ll be safer to tell him about the baby then.
“And how do you suggest we go about doing that?” Alexander asks. “I think any woman in their right mind would want to marry me, so—”
I hold up a hand, cutting him off. “Get a hold of yourself and your huge ego, please. This is actually serious.”
He laughs, nuzzling his face in the side of my neck. The vibrations send a pulse of warmth through me that gathers in my core. I trail my hand along his jaw, feeling the rough stubble against my fingertips. There’s a coppery tang in addition to his usual cedarwood smell.
"How about,” I say, pulling away from him to look him in the eye. “We go upstairs. I’ll strip you out of these soiled clothes and give you a bath, then we can discuss what we’ll do?”
Alexander clicks his tongue. “I don’t want to talk about Ottilie while I’m fucking you, unless you’re into that.”
“I didn’t say that, I—”
“We both know how this is going to end, sweetheart.”
* * *
The soundof Alexander’s palm hitting my ass echoes in the cavernous bathroom.
My hands are tied behind my back with his belt, and he’s got me bent over his knee, one of his hands securely on my shoulder instead of my neck. I managed to convince him that my throat was sore from what happened on the plane so he would forgo the breath play this time around—I’m certain that’s not good for the baby, but I can’t tell him why just yet. I don’t miss it much, especially when each slap sends a jolt of searing white-hot pain ricocheting through my body.
I feel it in my fingertips and toes, the sting of his touch creating a heady sense of overstimulation. My whole world has collapsed, leaving just the two of us in this moment—nothing matters but the delicious pain he’s inflicting on me, and the promise of an earth-shattering reprieve at the end of it.
My core is pulsing with heat, my slightly spread thighs already slick with anticipation of what’s to come. Alexander rubs the hot skin of my ass after each slap, the only warning I get before another wave of pain slams into me.
“Did you think I’d let your little stunt today go unpunished?” His voice is low, otherworldly, creeping over my skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake.
Only the floors in the bathroom are heated, meaning there’s a slight chill in the air. It dances over my hard nipples and cools my face from the heat swimming beneath my skin. My tongue darts out to moisten my dry lips.
His hand connects with my ass again, this time falling lower than before, ghosting his fingers along the seam of my ass, where my hot, needy core is screaming for attention. I’m a mess. That singular touch has me arching in his lap, hiking my ass up for just a little more contact.
A low, gravelly chuckle fills the room. “You’re such a filthy little slut,” Alexander says, even as his hands slip lower again. Close, but not quite where I want them. Teasing me. “Look at the mess you’ve made.” He clicks his tongue. “Your cunt’s wetter than I’ve ever seen it.”
I let out an anguished mewl as he swipes his fingers along my thighs. “Please, just…”
“No,” Alexander snaps back. “You should’ve thought about this before you disobeyed me, sweetheart.” He strikes my ass again. “Good girls get orgasms, and you’ve been averybad one.”
Alexander shifts my weight on his lap, and I feel his erection against my torso. As unaffected as he wants to make me think he is—it’s clear this is just as hard for him. He’s shirtless, save for his boxers, his skin glistening with water droplets from the bath we just took.
He pounced on me before I was even able to get my clothes on.
“The last time I punished you, you still enjoyed it,” he says, his hand lingering on my ass. “But what’s the point of punishing you if you’re satisfied at the end?”
My chest starts to rattle, my heart beating so hard that I can feel it all over, but especially between my legs. I absolutelyhatewhat he’s saying to me, and I don’t like where it’s going.
He can’t seriously be thinking about denying my orgasm, can he?
“I’m sorry, okay?” I say, trying to infuse my voice with contrition. “I’m sorry that I left when you told me not to. I won’t do it again.”
