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He peppered my butt with hard cracks of his hand, the sound exacerbated to the point my ears were ringing. Or maybe that was from the constant crackling of electricity shooting through me like a live wire. Either way, it didn’t matter. I couldn’t want this. Not ever. Harsh discipline had never been a part of my life. I abhorred the thought.
And I hated him.
Then why was I so turned on, my nipples aching to the point of pain as they brushed against the lace material roughly? I had no answers. I keep going back to the possibility I wasn’t in a right state of mind.
“Let me give you a hint, sweetheart. When a man saves your life, it’s best not to make him angry.”
“I’m not your sweetheart!” God, the man was infuriating.
“You’re going to be exactly what I tell you to be right now.”
Holy shit. That man thought he could be in charge of me? Not a chance. “Never.”
“Then you’ll learn the hard way.”
He brought his hand down at least six more times, developing a rhythm. I tried to kick my legs but couldn’t budge even a little bit. I closed my eyes, doing what I could to control my breathing and my nerves. Another vision of his naked body swept into my mind and my pussy clenched and released so many times I was certain I’d have a climax.
Oh, God. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?
“I’ll give you a hint,” I said breathlessly. “Don’t have an ax when you take a stranger inside a hotel room.”
“Duly noted.”
I heard the amusement in his voice and squirmed again, gasping several times when I realized how wet I was. Jesus. Was I dripping juice on his legs? I cinched my eyes shut, trying to block out the moment.
Then my pussy muscles betrayed me more than my body had. Clench. Release. Clench. Release.
No. No. No!
As an orgasm suddenly rolled through me, I lifted my head, doing everything in my power to keep from allowing him to know. When a series of moans rushed up from my throat, he stopped spanking me. Suddenly, he was caressing my heated skin, rolling the rough pads of his fingers in circles from one side to the other.
He eased his leg from mine, adjusting my knees so they were spaced further apart. Then I heard his heavy breathing.
“Are you wet for me, Wren?”
When he said my name, the strangest sensations of swooning swept through me, his tone entirely different than before. He was as aroused as before, maybe more. I was so turned on by the sound of his voice I couldn’t answer him.
But thoughts jetted into my mind that were wild and crazy, exciting and terrifying.
He was going to touch me.
Lick me.
Fuck me.
Oh, sweet Jesus, I couldn’t believe this was happening.
Bad girl. Bad girl. Bad girl.
No, I was worse than that. I was a terrible woman for allowing a stranger to touch me in an inappropriate manner. I was about to share that with him when he slid his hand between my legs, rolling his thumb around my clit.
I dragged my tongue across my lips, my heart racing as he slipped his other fingers past my swollen folds. Then I pushed up from the bed, tossing back my head. There were so many things I should say, but in that moment, there was nothing more I wanted than to feel alive again, to experience the kind of passion that had eluded me for years.
No, for my entire life.
I didn’t need to know anything about him, and he couldn’t care less to learn about me.
I wouldn’t see him again, the state was too big, and that would be just fine.
