Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
She shakes her head so vehemently her curls fly around her face.
“Will you still deny it if I find you wet?” I ask, sweeping my finger lower and finding exactly that.
She’s slick and warm between her legs, so damn inviting. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to sink my finger knuckle-deep into that heat.
Her cheeks turn scarlet when I shoot her a victorious smile.
Letting go of her dress, she reaches for my wrist. “This is—”
“Five more lashes,” I say.
She pauses, staring at me with those pretty eyes. “You said you wouldn’t.”
“I said I wouldn’t fuck you, and I won’t.” I press the heel of my palm on her clit that’s hidden beneath a thin layer of polka dot cotton. “But I’m going to be a gentleman and get you off before I continue with your punishment.”
“I don’t need you to get me off,” she says, spitting every word at me, but when I rub my heel in a circular motion over the button at the apex of her sex, she doesn’t push me away.
She balls the fabric of her dress in her fists and bows her back like a cat. “Saverio.”
“That’s right. You can say my name when you come. Now tell me again it doesn’t feel good.”
“If I tell you it doesn’t, will you stop?” she asks through sputters of breaths.
I will, but I don’t want to, so I rub her harder. Faster. Until she goes on tiptoes and lets go of her dress to grab the edges of the table. Taking aim, I heat that pretty ass with my palm, dealing the next two blows in quick succession as I bring her closer to the edge.
She trembles beneath me.
Ten.
Five left.
I’m going to make them count.
Just as a pure, high sound tumbles from her lips and her body tightens as if squeezed in a vise, I let lose. I swat her cheeks, left and right, wiggling them. She’s so wet her arousal coats my palm through the fabric of her panties. My zipper is open before she’s had time to process her orgasm. She’s still shivering with aftershocks when my cock is in my hand. Using her arousal to lubricate my length, I pump my fist as I tan her ass two more times, once on each side. I aim the fifth right between her legs.
A strangled cry escapes her lips. I keep my hand on that soft spot between her thighs, applying enough pressure to lift her off her feet. Her lower body pulls tight again. When she climaxes for a second time, I come so hard that my vision splinters. The pleasure is unlike anything I’ve felt. The relief all but cripples me as white-hot release spurts from the tip of my cock.
As the first jet of cum hits her thighs, she goes still. Every one of her muscles locks into place. She’s not moving an inch, but an animalistic instinct demands that I pin her to the table with my fingers curled around her nape while I paint her back and her ass, layering white ribbons of cum over the streaks of red on her skin.
Fuck.
I’m spent.
It takes a moment to find my balance. Catching my weight on my arms with a hand planted on either side of her hips, I hang my head and calm my erratic breathing. Breathe her in. She smells like summer and sex, and isn’t that the most intoxicating fragrance?
She lies motionless under my hold with her face turned to the side and her eyes pinched shut.
I release her neck and step back to tuck my cock into my pants. A moment passes after I zip up, but I can’t stop looking at her. Such a pretty portrait. So messy. So depraved.
I can look all day, but Giorgio is waiting. If I don’t leave soon, Luigi will start asking questions.
Bending over her, I pull up her panties and lower her dress. The kiss I plant on the shell of her ear is meant as a consolation not for the spanking but for defiling her body in such a dirty way and for loving every second.
My words are hushed. “All right?”
She turns her face the other way in a futile effort to shun me.
I brush her hair from her sweaty forehead before lifting her into my arms and carrying her to the bedroom.
“I can walk,” she says, pushing on my shoulders.
“I know.” I tighten my arms around her. “Shower?”
She averts her eyes. “No.”
I guess her motivation for declining has everything to do with not wanting to shower with me and nothing with wanting to soak in my cum, although I don’t mind the latter. On the contrary, I welcome the idea. I like to know I branded her with my handprint and my seed. Like a caveman, I want every other male to understand that this woman is mine. My property. My own little toy treasure. I’ll chop off hands and dicks to prove it.