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Sonia’s moan was a mix of pain and pleasure. Between slaps, Brendan took advantage of her position to run his palm over her gorgeous ass. Her frantic wriggles encouraged him.
“You seem to be enjoying this a little too much,” he taunted.
“No,” she panted. “No, I’m not.”
“You are. Say it.” He caressed her clit as he peppered her ass with smacks. Sonia twitched and bucked.
“I’m not!” Sharpness twinged in his biceps. She’d turned to bite him through his shirt.
Brendan retaliated with a slap. “Sunshine, you can’t hide it. You’re getting my pants so wet.”
Sonia managed to wrap her leg around his, rubbing her pussy against his slacks. “Good. I hope your dry-cleaning bill is sky high.”
Her hip pressed against his erection. Brendan groaned as he spanked her faster. “Say you hate me.”
“I fucking hate you!”
“Good. Now say you need me.”
“What?”
Slap!“Admit how much you need me. I want to hear it once and for all.”
“You’ll never hear me say that.” Sonia sounded sincere — and furious. “I don’t need you or anyone else.”
“Tell me the truth, Sonia. Tell me that you need me. You’ve needed me since the day we met.”
His hand hovered above her, and he felt her tense in anticipation of the smack that would come. Instead, very gently, he brushed his fingers along the cleft of her ass. Her pucker was slick with juices, and she gasped as he pressed the tip of one finger inside.
“Why are you doing this?” Her breath was fast and shallow, and he couldn’t tell if she was playing the game or not.
Whywashe doing this? Why did he fucking yearn to hear Sonia say she needed him?
“Because your body’s crying for me. Feel it?” Teasing her ass, he stroked his fingers over her cunt. “Your pussy’s weeping, because I haven’t screwed you yet.”
“I’m such a mess,” she gasped.
“You think this is a mess?” he murmured. “Wait until I’m finished with you.”
9
Monday
9:41 p.m.
Sonia raised her face from her comforter, trying to twist out of Brendan’s hold.
But she couldn’t escape the deep, overwhelming bliss that flooded her body. No matter how much she played at struggling, Brendan would take her.
It was strangely reassuring, to let go and give up responsibility. Crazy as it seemed, she felt trust blooming between them. Right now, in her dark, empty house, she actually trusted Brendan O’Brian.
“You’re fucked up,” she managed to spit.
“Mmm, yeah.” He gave her ass a final slap. “I’m going to show you just how fucked up I am.”
She kicked, trying to wriggle free, as he grabbed her waist and flipped her onto the bed. Her comforter cushioned the impact. As Brendan’s fingers dug into her hips, he nipped her breasts and belly in a steady downward path.
“Don’t, you asshole,” she groaned, scratching trails across his back with all her strength. His shirt, so crisp and clean when he’d arrived, was damp with sweat. When he blew softly over her pussy, protesting was the last thing she wanted to do.
