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“Fuck, you’re hot when you dress like this.” He massaged my ass through my jeans.
I laughed and looked down at myself. I was wearing a completely non-descript blue t-shirt, jeans, and boots. “Like a ranch hand?”
“Like the sexiest fucking ranch hand I ever saw,” he said, before his mouth came down on mine.
I opened to him and the stress of the day fell away. Monster mothers of the bride, all the shit I still had to coordinate, all the emails waiting to be sent—poof. Gone in a wisp of smoke as I opened my legs to Jeremiah and he took every inch I gave.
He slid in between my legs and his hands dropped down between us, first working at my button and then his own. His fingers being anywhere near my sex had me tingling.
But it wasn’t until he pulled me away from the wall and manhandled me so that I was bent over a nearby sawhorse that my blood really got pumping.
He leaned over my back and whispered in my ear, breath hot against the wisps of hair escaping my ponytail, “You’ll want to hold on. I don’t know that I can take it easy on you. Your safeword is red. Tell me your safeword.”
“Red,” I gasped out, my eyes wide as saucers. I was glad I was faced away from him. I didn’t want him to see the excited shock on my face at the way he was— I’d never had any man be like this with me. And I’d had no clue that I’d respond like this. I was immediately wet. Drenched, in fact.
“Now don’t say it again unless you mean it,” he said, his voice low and growly.
I nodded.
“Out loud.”
“Yes. I mean I won’t. Not unless I mean it.”
“Good girl,” he growled, and the tone of his voice echoed throughout my body, like I could feel the vibrations of it in my sex.
I wiggled my ass against him and he laughed, low.
“Always pushing the boundaries, aren’t you, little brat?”
I looked over my shoulder at him. “Maybe I just want to get fucked and you’re stalling.”
He’d lifted back to standing and he kicked my feet to open wider as I stayed sprawled over the sawhorse. I had to grab onto the wooden legs for balance and that made him smile. I barely just bit back a curse, and that was because I saw him slowly, ever so slowly sliding his belt out of its straps.
“W-what are you going to do with that?” I asked. I couldn’t tell if I was scared or excited. I was suddenly feeling a thousand things at once. One thing was for damn sure—I felt alive. More alive than I’d felt in… well, a long time. I bit my bottom lip against the anticipation.
“Good girls wait and see. Bad girls are impatient.”
He dragged down my jeans in one motion, panties with them, exposing my bare bottom.
“Well, isn’t that a pretty little ass. But I can make it prettier.”
And he smacked me with his bare palm, upward from underneath my right ass cheek, so that it wobbled and jiggled obscenely. And then he did the same to the other cheek.
Oh my God. I felt mortified. I had never had my bits jiggled so remorselessly. Even more appalling?
How motherfucking amazing it felt.
I wanted him to do it again. And again.
I’d always thought of ass slapping as degrading. I didn’t realize it could actually feel… so damn erogenous.
But Jeremiah, damn him, he missed nothing. “You liked that, didn’t you?”
I kept my face down, hidden, trying to keep some of my dignity, but he just leaned over my back so he had access to my face. He nipped at my ear, then my jaw. “Tell the truth,” he breathed.
I squeezed my eyes shut but admitted, “Yes. Please. It felt so good.”
“Good girl.”
