“Are you still mad at me about the jeans?” she asked, her breathing coming quickly. The car began to hum as it pulled away from the hotel, vibrating gently as it rolled along the Strip in Sunday night traffic.
“Do I look mad?”
“A little.”
“Does it turn you on if I’m angry with you?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not mad. Because you have this,” he said, lowering his hand between her legs and fingering the hem of her pink skirt. “If you hadn’t brought it I wouldn’t do what I’m about to do. I’d send you home hot and bothered. Instead, I’m going to reward you.”
“How will you reward me?” she asked, as anticipation flared through her nervous system. This moment was the cusp—the tantalizing precipice before they ignited. The way he gazed at her like a predator sent her temperature rising. She wanted him so much. She wanted whatever he planned to give her.
“This,” he said, crushing her mouth in a kiss that scorched her body. He lowered himself onto her, and she moaned loudly, ready to offer a prayer of thanks to the universe for the delicious weight of his body. He was strong, and cut, and she hadn’t even seen him with a shred of clothing off, but she knew from the feel of his arms and the firmness of his ass that his body was going to be the most fuckable one she’d ever laid eyes on.
Not that she’d glimpsed many, but who cared? It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was hard everywhere, and it turned her on beyond all reason, past all normal levels of arousal. She’d dreamed about this kind of chemistry, about giving up control, and it was even better than she’d imagined. His commanding touch set her mind free.
His mouth was a hunter, taking her lips, marking her as his. He kissed her ferociously, and she could barely move underneath him, nor did she want to. He’d somehow immobilized her with his arms, with his weight, with his hard cock that rubbed against her.
She’d never felt like this with her ex. Never. Their kisses had been playful and fun. They’d been two puppies tussling. Being kissed by Ryan was a mad claiming. His hand slinked down her side, and she gasped in pleasure, and that sound was swallowed up by his insistent lips on hers once more.
When he reached her ass, he squeezed one cheek, so hard she yelped. Then, in a flash, he’d moved from hovering over her to sitting. He pulled her on top of him so she straddled his legs, facing him.
“Change of plans?” she asked in between breaths.
“No,” he said, pushing her skirt so it bunched up at her hips. “This is what I have planned.” He gazed at her panties. Candy pink with a delicate heart-shaped bow. He ran his tongue over his top lip as he stared at her legs.
“They match the skirt,” she offered, as if this detail were somehow vital.
“That they do,” he said, and then she cried out as his hand landed on her ass. The sting radiated throughout her cheek.
“Did it hurt?”
“A little.”
“But did you like it?”
She nodded. “A lot.”
“Good. Because I loved it, too.” He rubbed his hand gently across her rear, soothing out the sting. “God, your ass is fucking perfect,” he whispered, with a kind of reverence that she’d never heard before. It thrilled her.
She tensed in anticipation as he lifted his arm again, and then his palm landed hard on her rear once more. She yelped as the sharpness spread. “Did that feel good too?” he asked.
She nodded on a pant, as he smoothed his hand against her backside.
“Then let’s see how you like it when it’s flesh on flesh,” he said, as he gathered the edges of the pink lace and tugged it inward.
Her eyes widened in shock as it registered fully what he was doing. He’d turned her panties into a thong, wedging the material into a tight thread between her legs, so the front rubbed her clit, and the back exposed her cheeks.
She trembled as she waited for another smack. “Is this for not wearing a skirt at first?”
With his left hand, he gripped her chin roughly. The callous touch sent hot sparks down her belly on a mad dash to between her legs. “This is what you wanted, Sophie. You wanted to test me. To see what I’d do. And I’m doing it. Because you wanted to know how it feels to have this perfect fucking flesh owned by a man who loves taking charge of you, and who is consumed with spanking this gorgeous ass.”
She almost asked how did you know? Instead, she asked something she longed to hear to answer to: “Do you love it?”
“I am fucking obsessed with it,” he said, his voice hot and filled with lust—a lust she’d inspired in him. That knowledge lit her up. Somehow, she was this man’s desire. She seemed to drive him wild. She quivered, waiting for the next swat as he licked a path along her neck up to her ear, whispering with a dirty sort of awe, “I’m obsessed with your ass. And your tits. And your body. And your lips. And your face. And I want to mark this beautiful, round, sweet ass with my palm.”
He let go of her chin and looked in her eyes. He tugged her panties, the tight fabric hitting her clit, setting off a chain reaction as he cracked his hand so damn hard on her ass that she flinched.
And gushed.
Oh God. She was so fucking liquid. She was so immeasurably turned on from all these new feelings crashing into her, colliding inside her body in sweet, filthy bliss. Her eyes fluttered closed as the sharp sting rippled through her. He rubbed his palm against her rear to erase the pain, and she whimpered at the quick shift from harsh to gentle.
Then she moaned loudly, because his hand was inside her panties.
“I need to know if you love it like I do,” he said, and his fingers glided across the evidence. He groaned appreciatively.
“I do,” she said. “I do, I do, I do.”
“Yes, you fucking do,” he said, sliding his expert fingers over her, touching her bare flesh, feeling her heat. She shuddered as he slid his fingers through all that wetness, then once again as he landed a biting slap on her rear. Heat pooled between her legs from the hit, turning her into an inferno. Sophie was learning that all her fantasies, all her dreams, all her wild imaginings of pain and pleasure were not only coming true, but she liked it.
No, she loved the mix of hurt and heat, of a sharp sting and a hot kiss. The evidence was on his fingers.
He gripped her hips and lifted her off him, laying her flat on her back again on the plush leather seats of the limo. She vaguely wondered where they were on the Strip, but she didn’t care enough to sneak a peek out the window, not with her body vibrating with this intense need to be touched.
“Where’s your purse?” he asked, glancing around.
She furrowed her brow, thrown off by the odd question. “My purse? It’s over there,” she said, pointing to the other side of the long car and the bench where she’d left her bag.
He stretched out and grabbed it.
“Why do you need my bag?”
“Do you trust me?” he countered, running his thumb along the slim strap of her purse.
She hardly knew him. But she’d already let him spank her, so she supposed in the context of the situation, the answer was that she did. The car slowed in traffic as she gave him her one-word answer.
“Yes.”
His lips curved in a small smile, and he dropped a quick kiss on the hollow of her throat. Then he grabbed her wrists, held them together, and positioned them above her head, so she was stretched out. He wrapped the purse strap around her wrists. When she turned her head to the side she realized what he was doing. He was tying the strap on her wrists to the seat belt buckle. Next he reached for the hem of her skirt and gently adjusted it over her ass. She wasn’t sure why he was covering her backside, until he tugged her legs while ensuring her punished ass didn’t rub against the leather. He pulled her along the seat, making her arms go taut. She’d become a straight line under his control, bound to his choices, yet somehow safe in his arms.
The prospect electrified her. All the planning and decisions and choices she managed all day long disappeared with this kind of letting go.