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“Gonna get yourself fucked hard, little girl.” His growly warning makes my pussy squeeze and lift.
“What if I wanted to ride shotgun?” I ask, swinging a leg across his hips to straddle him.
His eyes grow dark, hands reach for my waist. “Is that what you want, little girl?”
“Is it an option?” My heart’s increased in speed, like I’m testing boundaries here. Does he only do spanky sex? Does he always have to be in charge?
I’m too afraid to ask the real question that’s been nagging me since we started this game—what does this all mean to him?
He drops his hand down over the side of the bed, like he’s feeling for something. “Pretty hard to deny you anything.” His hand returns with a condom.
My chest squeezes. This guy is too good to be true. I snag it from him and open it, rolling it over his thick member. I lift my hips up over him and lower myself onto his cock, taking him inch by inch. He’s so big, it takes me a moment to adjust, but then I start rocking my hips slowly. His gaze grows heavy-lidded, traveling over my body with hunger. He grips my hips and starts pulling me over his cock.
“Ah, I see,” I tease. “You let me lead for about fifteen seconds.”
He shakes his head. “Fire,” is the only word he says before he rolls and pins me beneath him.
I giggle as he wrestles my wrists down beside my head.
“Are you getting sassy with me, little girl?”
I buck my hips because he’s not moving and I need more.
He pulls back and shoves in hard, like it’s a punishment. “Hmm?”
“What are you going to do about it?” I dare, loving this game. My nipples are hard points, brushing against his chest, pussy pulses around his cock.
To my chagrin, he pulls out.
“Hey!” I sit up.
He pushes me back down and lifts my ankles in the air. I think he’s going for the plow position for sex, but instead he starts spanking me.
Oh God. It’s so delicious. The position pushes my lady parts out, so he slaps my pussy and my butt at the same time.
I buck, flexing my legs and reaching to cover, even though I love every minute of it.
“Are you gonna be good?” he rumbles.
I shake my head no.
A warm and affectionate smile creases his face. He kisses the inside of my ankle.
He grips the fronts of my thighs and slides me toward him, then shoves into me. Despite my caterwauling, I like it way better when he’s on top.
He pounds into me, making sure I feel every muscle in his mammoth frame, every inch of his punishing cock. The bed slams against the wall over and over again, eliciting yells from the neighboring apartment.
I giggle and surrender, letting the sensations wash over me—pleasure mostly, a little pain.
It’s great to let him lead. In this one small place in my life, I don’t have to be perfect or in control. I don’t have to prove myself. In fact, he likes me naughty.
He reaches down and pinches one nipple, hard.
I arch up with a cry.
He covers my mouth with his hand. He covers my nose for a second and I panic. He immediately releases my nose. “Hold your breath.”
There’s no question in his words. It’s not a suggestion, only deep command, and I obey.
