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“You like it,” he says, not sounding surprised at all. “And now you will learn the extent of my tolerance.”
“Okay, I get it, you spanked me, you’re big and scary, can you just—”
Another spank. Another, and this time, my back’s arching as these whimpers escape my lips.
“Good girl,” he whispers. “Oh, very good girl.” Another spank. Another. And when I think I can’t take more, he spanks me one last time—
Then buries his hand between my legs, cupping my soaking wet, burning hot pussy.
It’s too much. I melt in his lap. I moan, writhing my hips. My brain’s on autopilot, my body’s on lockdown. I can’t do anything but give myself over to this beast of a man.
This is not what I expected when I renovated our house.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan. “Oh my god, Liam.”
“You’re dripping down my fingers, my beautiful wife,” he says, sounding truly delighted. “You’re so wet it’s obscene.”
“Fuck you,” I gasp as his fingers tease me. “This is your fault. I try to do something nice—”
“Don’t pretend like the decorations are for any other reason than to piss me off.” His fingers slowly sink inside of me and I gasp. “You feel stifled and trapped. You blame me for that. This is your way of lashing out.”
“Maybe,” I say, sucking in short, quick breaths between moans as his fingers fuck me, the pleasure mixing with the pain of my spanking, still hot on my cheeks. “But you also—fuck, god damn it—you also deserve it.”
“Just like you deserve this.” His fingers sink deeper, curling to tease my G-spot, and it throws me right against the edge of orgasm.
I push back against him, wanting more. I’m a mess of need and pleasure, and my brain’s barely working. “You’re a monster. You’re a beast.”
“Tell me to stop then. Ask me to stop fucking your lovely, tight, beautiful, wet pussy with my big fingers. Tell me to stop.”
“Keep going,” I moan, losing my mind. “I’m so fucking close.”
“Come for me then, princess,” he coaxes, fingers going faster. “Come for me and call me your husband. Say it, princess.”
“Husband,” I gasp, back arching, hips working. “You’re my husband, you bastard.”
And I come, a blinding explosion of pleasure. My muscles tense and spasm as sweat rolls down my spine, and god, it feels so perfect. I moan, saying it over and over, husband, husband, which only makes him work my pussy faster, until I can’t take anymore.
I roll off him, onto the purple bed. He watches as I curl into a ball, twitching as the orgasm aftereffects slowly fade away.
“Good girl,” he whispers, patting my bare, raw ass. “Now, come into the bathroom and let me soothe you. Hot water helps.”
“You’re insane.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “You’re truly insane.” And I think I like it.
Will I get punished like this every time I act out?
He has to realize he’s only encouraging more bad behavior.
“Maybe, but it felt good, didn’t it?”
I nod, still not looking at him.
He doesn’t speak. I feel him get up off the bed, then I hear the bath water run. When I open my eyes, he’s standing and staring down at me with a strangely loving expression in his eyes.
“I’m not changing the colors,” I say, meeting his gaze.
“Good.” His smile is wicked. “It’ll give me more excuses to spank you. Soak in the tub. I promise it will help with the pain.” With that, he turns and leaves.
Chapter 15
Alisa
After the bath, I crawl into my purple bed and fall asleep. If he gets in with me, I don’t notice, and in the morning his side is already cold and empty, though his pillow’s been used.
I pull on some new sweats and head downstairs.
“Good morning.” I jump, yelping again. Orin’s standing in the kitchen at the island cutting fruit. “I wasn’t sure what you like for breakfast so I went all out.” He gestures at some eggs, a little yogurt, the fruit, a bagel, and toast.
“You have to stop doing that.” I clutch my chest. “Your boss is going to be pissed if you give me a heart attack.”
“Doing what?” He looks genuinely confused. “Liam told me to get you something to eat. He said you’d be hungry.”
If there’s an implication in that statement, it doesn’t reach his tone. I refuse to let myself blush. “I’m fine with coffee and fruit, thanks.”
Orin nods and brings me over something to eat as I sit at the table. He lingers for a moment but says nothing. I sip my coffee, trying to act like he’s not there, unsure of how to process this strange turn of events.
I’m not used to having an assistant around the house, and I’m sure as hell not used to getting spanked until climax by my bossy new husband.
“I’m sorry,” Orin says, breaking the silence. “There’s one more thing.”
