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“Jeremy.”
Three brutal slaps come down on my cheeks, one after the other in a rapid flurry. His hand comes around my front and wraps around my neck.
“What would he say if he saw you bent over my lap, moaning for me like a good girl?” He tightens his hold on my throat. “Should I have him come up and see for himself?” He demands.
“No.” I whimper. “Please.”
His answering tone is triumphant. “That’s right. Just for me.” His hand feels possessive around my throat as he issues a warning in my ear. “He doesn’t see you like this, Bellamy.”
I nod wordlessly. I’d do and say anything to end the torment he’s inflicting on my body.
His hand comes down again on my right cheek. “Not so mouthy now are you?”
“Rogue,” I moan.
He turns my face so he can look into my eyes. “You’re enjoying this.” It’s an observation, not a question. “If I run my finger through your slit, is your pussy going to be wet for me?”
Another slap falls and I cry out. The combination of his words and his hands is too much. My body and my mind are swirling with too many feelings, physical and emotional and I can’t make sense of anything.
I feel something building in my body, going from nothing to feeling like I’m about to go over a cliff in seconds. Moisture tinges the corner of my eyes.
“I can smell your arousal from here, Bellamy.” He says and, fuck, the way he says my name alone might make me come. It’s possessive and self-satisfied and completely cocky.
All of a sudden, the spanking is over. But that means so is the building orgasm within me. He flips me up so that I’m straddling him, with the skirt of my dress bunched around my waist.
Looking into my eyes, his tongue reaches out and licks a tear cresting past my eyelashes.
“Stop your theatrics, I know you loved it. I can feel your hot cunt from here.” He says, before cupping my center.
He keeps his eyes on mine and never looks down at where he touches me. My eyes roll into the back of my head at the sensation and his eyes track my every reaction; every twitch and flutter in my face.
Instead of arching out of his touch like a sane person, I tilt my hips into his hand, scrambling to hold on to the cliff of my rapidly receding orgasm.
He hisses and removes his hand.
Dejectedly, I rub myself against the zipper of his jeans. My eyes pop open when I feel his hardness press against my core, the only separation between us the material of his jeans and my thong.
He’s huge. Thick and pulsing, his cock is pressed tight against his jeans as I rock back and forth, tracing his length. I’m getting closer to release when he grabs my ponytail from the back and tugs on it. He’s holding me at an awkward angle, my bottom half rubbing against his while my torso is bent backwards to follow his hold.
He growls menacingly. “Watch what you’re doing or I’ll fuck you right here.”
His words have an immediate sobering effect on me and I fall out of his grasp and to the floor, scrambling to stand up. Once on my feet, I turn back to him and see he hasn’t moved. He’s still sitting in his chair with a smug, victorious look on his face.
I’m mortified. How did I let that happen? How did I ride him, dry humping him wantonly until I nearly came after he spanked me repeatedly?I have the door open and am ready to run out when he calls my name.
“Bellamy.”
I turn around.
“You’re gagging for my cock, you can’t deny it. I don’t blame you, who wouldn’t.” Smug bastard. “Difference is, there’s absolutely nothing about you that I want.” he sneers.
I run out before he can say another hateful thing.
???
I wake up the next morning with a throbbing headache. On my way back downstairs, I’d run into Thayer who’d been looking for me.
I didn’t tell her anything at the time. This one would take a sleepless night to process.
