His lips twist into a wicked smirk. “Oh no, baby.” He flips me over to my belly. “This is punishment. That means it’s my choice.”
Again, rockets of desire shoot through me. This is exactly what I wanted. The fodder of all my fantasies.
He unhooks my bra in the back and pulls it off me, then pulls my wrists behind my back and ties them with it. My panties come off next, and he pulls my hips up until I’m resting on my knees with my face and shoulders still mashed into the bedcovers. He runs a hand over my ass. “You look so good in my handprints.” He smacks my ass, then rubs. His fingers dip between my legs and he makes a rumble of satisfaction at what he finds there.
“Now tell me, baby.” He circles my clit. “What made you so wet? Your spanking? Or knowing you’re about to get fucked?” He slaps my pussy. “Or is being tied up and at my mercy?”
I don’t answer. I’m actually not sure I’m capable of speech. Plus, it seems like a rhetorical question.
It earns me a flurry of hard spanks. “I asked you a question, doll.”
“Ohh-oh,” I moan as he returns to rubbing my clit. He’s rougher this time and I’m already starting to get close to climax, just from a few spanks and rubs.
“Hmm?” He slaps me five times in the same exact spot and I yelp and list away.
“All of it,” I mumble into the covers.
“All of it,” he muses. “Let’s test that.” He starts spanking, hard and fast. Just spanking. No rubbing. No fondling. It gets intense and I start to twist and whimper a little.
He slaps between my legs.
I cry out.
He rubs over my slit. “Mmm. Yeah. Spanking definitely makes you wet, doesn’t it, doll?” He slaps my pussy again.
It feels so good-even though it startles me. Even though it stings and sends nervous flutters to my belly. I want more of it. Need more of it.
I spread my knees wider, sink into the position, offering it to him.
He curses in Italian and spanks me light and fast between the legs. Slap-slap-slap-slap.
I cry out.
He pinches my clit. “Don’t come, baby. This is punishment, remember?”
Best. Punishment. Ever.
I’m halfway to an orgasm already. Maybe even closer. My body’s feverish, desperate.
Junior grips my thighs and pulls my ass cheeks apart, licking me from clit to anus.
I shriek at the sensation. At the taboo of having my anus licked.
Junior chuckles at my reaction. “I should fuck your ass, shouldn’t I?” He pushes against the tight ring of muscles, massaging my back hole. I tighten against the intrusion, squeezing my eyes shut. “I think your disobedience merits a good ass fucking.”
I shake my head, rubbing my face in the bedspread. “No, please.” I don’t know if I’m damning myself further by letting him know I don’t want it, but I am a total anal virgin. And I’m dying to feel him between my legs. “My pussy. Please. I haven’t had sex in so long.” I know it sounds pathetic, and it hurts my pride to admit it, but maybe he’ll take mercy on me and give me what I need.
“Is that right?” Junior yanks the binding off my wrists and flips me over onto my back. “You need my cock in here?” He plunges his thumb into my pussy, grinding into my clit with his palm.
I arch, thrusting my hard nipples toward the ceiling. “Yes. Please, Junior.”
Still pumping his thumb in and out, he grips his cock with the other hand and pulls it from his boxer briefs.
I prop myself up on my elbows to see better.
His grin is feral. “You’re so fucking beautiful, doll.”
Beautiful.
Huh.
I haven’t felt beautiful in a long time. I’ve got this extra twenty pounds I can never get off, and I’m always stressed out of my mind with worry over finding Jasper. But Junior doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who says stuff just to be nice. And the way he’s looking at me, I actually think he means it.
“Do you have a condom?” I’m surprised at how shy I sound. It’s not like me at all.
His answer is soft, his gaze indulgent. “Yeah.” He keeps stroking his cock and me at the same time. “I’ll find one.” He pulls his thumb out of me like it kills him and pads to the en suite bathroom. He returns with a fistful of condoms. I guess he really does plan on pounding me until I’m good and sorry.
He tosses them on the bed and rips one open with his teeth. I watch, fascinated, as he peels his shirt off over his head. He’s all burly man-hairy chest, a tattoo covering his right pectoral and shoulder. He shoves his briefs off, too, and rolls the condom over his impressive manhood.
“Spread those legs for me, baby. Spread ’em wide and hold them there.”
I open my legs spread-eagle, feet pointed toward the ceiling.
“That’s it.” He lines the head of his sheathed cock up with my entrance. “You hold them there until I say. Capiche?”
I rack my brain to remember the right answer. “Capito!” I blurt and his eyes light up, a shadow of a smile appears on his face. He collects my wrists and pins them above my head again, then pushes into me.
I groan at the sensation of him filling me, shoving inside. It’s been way too long since I’ve had sex, and I don’t remember it feeling this good. I rock my hips up to meet his thrusts, careful to hold the spread-eagle position. It’s sort of ridiculous and I feel like some kind of sex doll, but that’s exactly what works for me. I love the degradation of it, the suggestion that this might be arduous, rather than pleasurable for me.
I start making all kinds of sounds. I’ve never understood how people can have sex and not shout at the top of their lungs. I can’t help all the noise that comes out of my throat-the cries, the moans, the unintelligible words. I beg, plead, coax. I show my appreciation with every honest sound.
“Fanculo,” Junior mutters, pounding harder, sweat beading at his hairline.
True to his promise, he fucks hard. Each thrust rams deeper. If he didn’t keep yanking me back, my head would smash into the headboard.
His hand flashes out and slaps my right breast.
I squeal in offended surprise, but he squeezes it, leans over and flicks his tongue over my nipple, all the while riding me like we’re in a horse race.
“Junior,” I gasp.
The strain of holding back shows on his face, but he still manages to cock a brow. “You feeling good and sorry?”
I let out a hysterical laugh. “So sorry. So damn sorry. Please, Junior.”
Instead of bringing us to a finish, he pulls out.
“No!” I protest.
He rolls me to my belly. “Spread, baby.”
I spread my legs. He grips the back of my neck, like he’s holding me down, and enters me from behind.
It’s so good, I swear I nearly pass out. Every stroke is heaven on wheels.
I turn my face to keep from suffocating in the blankets, and he rides me hard from behind, his loins against my ass, as he thrusts in so deep.
“Junior!”
“Fuck, yeah, baby. Come all over my dick now. Squeeze me tight, doll.”
I clench my muscles around his cock and he shouts something in Italian, slams in with enough force to bang the bed against the wall once, twice, three times. On the fourth, he stays deep inside me and comes.
My internal muscles flutter around his cock, squeezing and releasing as I come, too. I’m lightheaded. I’m lost.
And then, for some unknown reason, I’m crying.