Page 61
Story: Freckles
“You’re the one who wanted me here. It’s your behaviour that earned this wake-up call.”
“I didn’t do anything to you!”
“Yes, you did.” He pushes me against the wall, bending so his mouth is against my ear. “You filled my head until I can’t think straight. This is all down to you.”
He grabs my hand, pressing it against his bulging erection. Even through the thickness of his jeans, I can feel it pulsing.
“Until I can stand to have anyone else touch me, you’ll meet all my needs. Understand?”
“I’m not your sex toy.” I push against him, using all my strength, and can’t move him an inch. Tears spill down my cheeks. Tears of anger. Tears of utter frustration. “This isn’t some fifteenth century fantasy where you’re lord of the manor and I’m a starving peasant who has no choice but to do your bidding.”
He throws back his head and laughs. “That’sexactlywhat this is. You have nothing. Youarenothing. You could call the police right now and I guarantee they’d have more questions for you than they have for me.”
“Because your family’s as fucking psycho as you are!”
“Yes. And what are you going to do about it? Because those tears won’t get you anywhere, cry-baby.”
I throw back my head andscreamat him. No words. Absolutely tongue-tied with rage.
In response, he sits on the bed, throwing me across his knees, my bare arse high in the air, and spanks me.
The stinging shock of the first blow hasn’t fully registered before the next one comes, and the next.
“This is what happens when you misbehave,” he growls, the bulge of his erection pulsing against my hip. “Now tell me, what do you do when I send you an order?”
“Go to hell.”
Another stinging slap lands on my arse, the skin heating with pain but that’s not the worst.
The worst thing is the matching heat that ignites low in my belly. A jolt of arousal that pierces to my core until I feel the telltale wetness of my response. My face floods with colour until both sets of cheeks are bright red.
“Try again,” Kincaid orders and his gravelly tone tugs at my centre again, amplifying my reaction. “What do you do when I tell you to get on your knees?”
Embarrassed by my traitorous body, I spit out, “Tell you to fuck off and leave me alone.”
The next blow lands. The sting intensifies.
And so do the rest of my reactions.
Especially when Kincaid changes tactics, smoothing my fiery skin with his palm, caressing in a circular pattern until the pain eases. “Are you really so eager for punishment you want me to keep going?”
I shake my head, halfway broken already and not keen on taking it any farther. The repetitive motion of his hand is nice. Instead of stinging, my skin softens to a dull throb.
“If you’re don’t behave tonight, how can I expect you to do what I need next week? Or next month. Are you going to make me fight you every single time?”
My jaw locks, teeth so tightly clenched I wouldn’t be able to speak if I wanted to. But I force my head to shake, acquiescing to his demands, needing this lesson to be over. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” His laugh is harsher than sandpaper. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, sweetheart. I need to be able to rely on you. To know you’ll be where I tell you to be.”
The anger in his voice isn’t reflected in his posture. His hand shifts position, the soothing motions now moving back and forth instead of in circles.
“But I don’t want this.”
“It’s no longer a choice, Freckles. I already fixed it so you could stay in school and vouched for you with my uncle. It’s only fair you give me something in return.”
“I didn’taskfor your help.”
“But you accepted it, and for that kind of money, I expect you to be nicer to me. If you won’t be my actual girlfriend, store-bought is fine. Just offer me a first-class girlfriend experience.”
“I didn’t do anything to you!”
“Yes, you did.” He pushes me against the wall, bending so his mouth is against my ear. “You filled my head until I can’t think straight. This is all down to you.”
He grabs my hand, pressing it against his bulging erection. Even through the thickness of his jeans, I can feel it pulsing.
“Until I can stand to have anyone else touch me, you’ll meet all my needs. Understand?”
“I’m not your sex toy.” I push against him, using all my strength, and can’t move him an inch. Tears spill down my cheeks. Tears of anger. Tears of utter frustration. “This isn’t some fifteenth century fantasy where you’re lord of the manor and I’m a starving peasant who has no choice but to do your bidding.”
He throws back his head and laughs. “That’sexactlywhat this is. You have nothing. Youarenothing. You could call the police right now and I guarantee they’d have more questions for you than they have for me.”
“Because your family’s as fucking psycho as you are!”
“Yes. And what are you going to do about it? Because those tears won’t get you anywhere, cry-baby.”
I throw back my head andscreamat him. No words. Absolutely tongue-tied with rage.
In response, he sits on the bed, throwing me across his knees, my bare arse high in the air, and spanks me.
The stinging shock of the first blow hasn’t fully registered before the next one comes, and the next.
“This is what happens when you misbehave,” he growls, the bulge of his erection pulsing against my hip. “Now tell me, what do you do when I send you an order?”
“Go to hell.”
Another stinging slap lands on my arse, the skin heating with pain but that’s not the worst.
The worst thing is the matching heat that ignites low in my belly. A jolt of arousal that pierces to my core until I feel the telltale wetness of my response. My face floods with colour until both sets of cheeks are bright red.
“Try again,” Kincaid orders and his gravelly tone tugs at my centre again, amplifying my reaction. “What do you do when I tell you to get on your knees?”
Embarrassed by my traitorous body, I spit out, “Tell you to fuck off and leave me alone.”
The next blow lands. The sting intensifies.
And so do the rest of my reactions.
Especially when Kincaid changes tactics, smoothing my fiery skin with his palm, caressing in a circular pattern until the pain eases. “Are you really so eager for punishment you want me to keep going?”
I shake my head, halfway broken already and not keen on taking it any farther. The repetitive motion of his hand is nice. Instead of stinging, my skin softens to a dull throb.
“If you’re don’t behave tonight, how can I expect you to do what I need next week? Or next month. Are you going to make me fight you every single time?”
My jaw locks, teeth so tightly clenched I wouldn’t be able to speak if I wanted to. But I force my head to shake, acquiescing to his demands, needing this lesson to be over. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” His laugh is harsher than sandpaper. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, sweetheart. I need to be able to rely on you. To know you’ll be where I tell you to be.”
The anger in his voice isn’t reflected in his posture. His hand shifts position, the soothing motions now moving back and forth instead of in circles.
“But I don’t want this.”
“It’s no longer a choice, Freckles. I already fixed it so you could stay in school and vouched for you with my uncle. It’s only fair you give me something in return.”
“I didn’taskfor your help.”
“But you accepted it, and for that kind of money, I expect you to be nicer to me. If you won’t be my actual girlfriend, store-bought is fine. Just offer me a first-class girlfriend experience.”
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