Page 11

I pushed my hands against the cushion beneath me.

My muscles felt wobbly, but they did what they were supposed to do, at least partially.

When Ryker saw me struggling a little bit, his arms wrapped around my waist and helped lift me up.

As soon as my feet touched the floor, he was up and standing beside me.

His hand circled my upper arm. Gently, he steered me around the couch.

He slid his other hand up my back and pushed down between my shoulders a bit.

I bent over the low back of the couch without him needing to say a word.

If I had felt on display before, this moment was something else entirely. His fingers flittered up the ridges of my spine and I gasped, biting my lip to keep the soft moan that wanted to escape inside me.

He used his foot to nudge my legs apart further, then further still, spreading me obscenely. I could feel the cool air whispering against my tender vulva, and I whimpered softly as his hand wrapped around the back of my neck, pressing my head further down, making me rise onto my toes.

“You’re absolutely drenched, naughty girl. It seems I haven’t been firm enough with you, have I?”

My clit pulsed.

“No, sir,” I whispered.

I turned my head, watching as he leaned over the couch and his hand closed around the belt. Time seemed to slow as he lifted it off the couch. I watched it swing back and forth, the promise of pain and pleasure emanating from its well-conditioned surface.

“I should tell you, this next part is going to hurt,” he warned.

My entire body practically convulsed at his words. My hips rocked back and forth as much as the couch would allow, which wasn’t very much.

“Ryker,” I breathed.

“Is that what you should be calling me before I belt your bottom?”

“Sir,” I moaned. His fingers slipped in between my legs, quickly finding my clit, and swirling over it with just enough pressure to make an electric surge of desire arc up and down my spine.

“I bet you’ll come hardest for me once your ass is properly welted from my belt,” he murmured, and I shuddered hard. I rubbed myself as much as possible on his fingers before he pulled them away. I whined a bit in disappointment.

“Please don’t stop…” I blurted out, pouting at the disappearance of his fingers.

He slapped between my legs again repeatedly, using the flats of his fingers to spank my pussy hard enough to cause a series of stinging waves to roll through me.

I cried out, but I stayed in position because I thought that he might expect it of me.

With a start, I realized how much I wanted to please him.

“Do you think you’re in a position to tell me what to do right now, little girl?”

“No, sir,” I breathed, biting my lip, and trying to ignore the way my pussy was spasming with more desire than I thought I could handle. He drew his arm up, dragging the soft leather against my legs and then between them. The moment it brushed against my sensitive folds, I flinched.

“Try to tell me what to do again, and your soaking wet little pussy will also find out what the belt feels like,” he warned.

My clit throbbed, seemingly developing its own heartbeat in syncopation with every syllable that fell from his lips.

I had no doubt that it would sting much more than his hand had.

“Yes, sir,” I whimpered.

“Now present your bottom more for me,” he demanded softly.

Without thinking, my body obeyed his instructions, instinctively arching my back to present my buttocks to him more prominently. It was as if his voice had a direct, deep connection to me, like it was controlling me, and I wasn’t in charge of myself anymore.

I didn’t know why, but it felt like freedom in the purest sense. My blood was surging through my veins, the heat from two orgasms still burning through me. The tips of my toes and the ends of my fingers prickled with sensation and anticipation of much more still to come.

“That’s a good girl,” he purred.

I was so caught up with what he’d said that I didn’t register the swish of the belt until it was too late. It cut into the fullest part of my bottom by the time I realized it was coming.

Caught by surprise, I wasn’t prepared for the harsh sound of leather hitting flesh. It was louder than I thought it would be, far more so than just his hand spanking my bare skin. In the seconds that followed, I quickly realized that the noise it made wasn’t the worst part.

The stinging line of fire that came with it was.

It cut across both bottom cheeks, harsh and terrible for several long moments, until the consuming burn sank deeper and settled in the twisting desire in my core. I let out a soft whine, but it was drowned out by the next vicious strike of the belt.

He didn’t rush this. He took his time, making each lash hard enough to send me straight up onto my toes before I obediently settled back down again.

With every strike, the burning pain rolled through me as if it was a wave cresting over a beach. My back arched through the pain, the air rushing from my lungs along with it. I didn’t try to keep quiet this time, mainly because I didn’t think that I could.

He thrashed from the tops of my cheeks to the middle of my thighs. I moaned and screamed through the ones that kissed the backs of my legs, quickly realizing that those stung most of all. My backside already felt like it was about to catch fire, and he showed no signs of slowing down.

That only seemed to make the need between my legs grow stronger.

When I started to squirm a bit, his hand slid along my lower back, pressing down and holding me to the back of the couch. A particularly harsh strike caught right underneath my left cheek and was quickly matched on the right.

I cried out and his hand dipped in between my legs.

He didn’t even have to say it. We both knew I was much wetter than before, literally dripping.

I clenched my jaw and clamped my lips shut, grappling with the confusing feelings ricocheting through me.

Both the spanking over his knee and the belting hurt, a lot, but there was nothing about it that made me feel unsafe or angry.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted it.

Sizzling pleasure burned through me, intensifying with every cruel lash from the belt.

The belt whipped me again and again, finding the same places it had already marked, and I arched into each one, enjoying the way the burn scalded my already sore flesh and then sank deeper, becoming a constant ache.

My inner walls fluttered greedily, and his hand returned to tease my clit once more.

“Oh, please,” I begged, pressing against his roughened fingertips.

He took his hand away and swung the belt back. I turned my head just enough to catch a glimpse of him. He looked so strong, so confident, and so in control with that belt swinging in his hand that another volley of desire hurtled through me, not just for the sensations, but for him.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he directed. I whimpered quietly but obeyed him immediately, only to have him pin my wrists at the small of my back.

He groaned and my clit pulsed to hear his audible expression of arousal.

“I’m going to enjoy this next part very much,” his voice rang with something I couldn’t identify, and I sucked in an anxious breath.

This time, I heard the swish of the belt as it cut through the air.

Time seemed to slow to a standstill as everything in me focused on the lash that was coming.

When it finally whipped against my burning cheeks, I gasped.

He had been holding back before; that much was clear from that moment on.

It was louder, the sting much fiercer. I rose up on my toes and cried out, pressing my hands down to try to cover myself, offering my first real resistance.

But he was ready for that. He kept my wrists firmly in place and swung the belt back again, hitting me for the second time with just as much ferocious intensity.

There was nothing I could do except lie over the back of my couch and take what he gave me.

A consuming submissiveness radiated through me, and I melted into the couch as I arched my bottom higher. The belt whipped the fullest part of my bottom, and I lost myself in the deeply painful ache that soon followed.

I lost count of how many times he thrashed me with that belt.

It didn’t really matter. Instead, I focused on the burning pain and the inevitable wave of arousal that followed.

With each strike, I felt the sting build as a welt immediately rose on my skin.

The pain intensified, cresting so high that I cried out.

He whipped me harder and faster, which made the pain seem endless. I blinked several times, wanting to cry but also wanting to come so badly that it hurt in a different way. When he started focusing solely on my thighs, I wailed even as my pussy clenched tight with wanton need.

“Oh, please. Ooohh, Ryker, please. I’ll be your good girl, I promise,” I pleaded, my desperation nearly choking me.

“Will you?” he asked pointedly, whipping me across the backs of my legs more severely than he had yet.

“Yes, sir! Yeeeesssss,” I wailed.

“Good. We’re almost done then,” he replied.

I thought I couldn’t take anymore, but he proved me wrong. He belted me several more times, starting at the tops of my cheeks and working all the way down to the middle of my thighs one last time. I squirmed as much as I was able, but his aim was true.

The last strike was directed between my legs, landing on top of my clit and I screamed at the wet sound of it.

The sting was far more overwhelming than I feared, cascading over my sensitive flesh in one wave after another.

I writhed over the couch, waiting for the burn to crest. It took longer than I thought it would.

By the time he tossed the belt beside me on the couch, my entire body felt like it was on fire.