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I could feel him stiffen, and then he began to move his dick in and out of my mouth, taking control like he always did.
I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. “Where do you think you’re going?” His eyes told me there was only one correct answer to that question. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”
Part of me wanted to rebel, but I was too turned on to care that he was getting exactly what he wanted…again. I was wet as soon as I had walked through the door and found him pleasuring himself.
He didn’t have to say a word. He didn’t have to even acknowledge my presence. Just the thought of him, the smell of him and the thought of his touch was intoxicating enough.
So, I obeyed his rules. He was in charge again. Maybe I should admit to myself that his taking control was what I liked best about him.
His breathing now was shallow and fast. I could taste him in my mouth, he stiffened, ready to come, and I thought that maybe I would get the upper hand at last.
But no. He pulled away from me, stood up, and grabbed me by my arms, forcing me from my kneeling position. Without a word, he shoved me down on the bed.
He was on top of me then, pinning me down with his body, and pinning my hands above my head. I was completely at his mercy, just the way he liked it.
Just the way I liked it, too.
As he held me down, he forcefully pushed my thighs apart and shoved a finger into my wetness. I gasped and then moaned as he pushed into me, wanting and needing more from him.
Again, I wasn’t going to get what I wanted. I realized that as he roughly flipped me over, dragged me to the edge of the bed, and used the extra silk that bound my hands to bind me to the headboard.
I was naked, bound, and fully vulnerable to him.
I couldn’t see him, but I knew by now what happened next. I expected him to get behind me, to spread my legs, and thrust into me, but to my surprise, he didn’t.
Instead, I heard a drawer open. I guessed it was the nightstand. I couldn’t quite see what he was doing since I was turned away from him, my ass in the air, my elbows holding my weight against the bed.
“Hold still,” was all he said.
He covered my mouth then with his hand. I tensed. And that’s when I felt something cold rub up against my behind. I jumped, startled. Then my brain made sense of it.
What I felt was the unmistakable texture of a wooden paddle as he smacked me with it hard against the ass.
I cried out, not expecting the pain, and attempted to wiggle away. He grabbed me with one hand around my waist and pulled me back to him until his crotch was nestled between my cheeks.
He then did something even more unexpected—I couldn’t see him, but I could feel his lips as he leaned down and placed a softkiss on the middle of my back. The soft gentleness of it made me want to cry.
“Hold still,” he whispered against my skin.
This time, I was ready, and when he hit me again, I felt equal amounts of pain and pleasure. I held my breath in anticipation of each hit, gasping for breath, biting his hand that muffled my screams of pleasure mixed with pain…
“That’s for disobeying me, for fighting with me,” he said softly.
I heard him put the paddle down on the nightstand.
“Say you’re sorry,” he said to me, dropping kisses down my spine.
“You first,” I managed to moan out, my pussy throbbing with need.
He made a grumbling noise. I thought he would pick up the paddle and spank me again, but then he said so quietly that I wasn’t sure I had heard it at first, “I’m sorry.”
“What?” I said, shocked.
“I said that I’m sorry. For all of it. For so many things,” he said, his breath fanning over my back as he spoke. He hadn’t lifted back away from my body.
“I’m sorry too,” I heard myself say.
I felt empty. I needed him. God, how I wanted him.