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Once her feet are on my leg and securely out of the way, I quickly close the truck door.
No escaping now. Not that there ever was, not since that first look of fear she sent me through the windshield.
I point at the edge of the cab bench, where a small space between my thigh and the door is big enough for her dainty feet to rest.
Charlotte does as told but gives a little huff to show her displeasure.
She’s not the only one uncomfortable. My cock is beyond painful. Tucked into the leg of my jeans, it fights to get out. The material of my pants is pulled as tight as it goes, and the heat of her ass on my thigh is like the target of a heat-seeking missile. With every wiggle and movement she makes, the harder it tries to get at her.
And it’s obvious the minute she feels it below her. Her whole body freezes, and her big, innocent eyes find mine.
I don’t try to hide my thoughts or my wants. Why bother? She can feel it underneath her now, and she will feel it inside of her later tonight anyway.
And because I have never been like this before, never wanted this before, I cannot stop myself. My hips surge up, pushing into her hard, before dropping back onto the bench.
I need to get a grip. I have always judged others for their baser needs. It makes you weak. Something Michael and I often take advantage of on our Halloween hunts.
It makes it so much easier to sneak into a house at night when people are sleeping—everyone knows that—but it is even easier to get in unnoticed when they’re fucking. Too lost in each other to notice or even care what else is happening.
I never saw the appeal until now and look forward to learning about it.
But there is a time and place.Right now, I have a bad girl in need of a lesson.
Words have never been my thing. I’m rough as I shove her right knee into the steering wheel, and her left into my stomach before delivering a solid slap to her jeans-covered thigh.
The resulting crack echoes inside the truck. It sounds hard, but I know it lands even harder. I need her to feel it.
Charlotte barely gets her shocked cry out before I deliver another smack to the same spot. I want her thighs burning when I crawl between them later.
I deliver the hits quickly and succinctly.
By the third slap, her senses return, and self-preservation kicks in. Her knees knock as she clamps them closed. My hand is now stuck between them.
She needs to learn not only that she will take all punishments I choose to give but also that fighting me will only make them much worse.
Pinching the sensitive skin at the top of her thigh, I twist until she screams, pushing up on the balls of her feet, her ass lifting off my thigh. And then I twist some more.
“Down!” I bark.
And like the good submissive she is, Charlotte drops her ass back down roughly.
“Please! It hurts!” she begs, shoving at my forearm.
It seems she needs another lesson. Letting go, I watch as relief visibly passes over her face, but it doesn’t last long as my fingers latch onto the skin of her other leg, giving it the same treatment.
A growl is all she needs this time when she attempts to push up again.
As she cries, her tears drop down her flushed cheeks.
Her body shakes with the force of her weeping.
I release her skin. “We’ll start again,” I tell her.
We all sit in silence, minutes passing with Charlotte hunched forward hugging her knees, before heaving a big breath. Her eyelashes still hold tears when she peers up at me through them.
“Please.” She tries one last time.
When I give no response, a sob escapes her. And then another. They don’t stop coming, not even as she opens her legs, positioning them back to how I had placed them before.
