Page 32 of Marked

I pressed my legs together, discovering that my wetness had dripped down onto my inner thighs.

I slid them against each other, feeling my arousal heighten with every small movement.

He stared back at me, inspecting my naked form, and I could feel myself blushing even as my desire for him grew stronger.

He trailed his fingers across my waist, dipping along my hipbone until they brushed against the top of my pussy. I shuddered, his touch like a lightning bolt of pleasure straight to the very depths of the growing need in my core.

“So beautiful and so very wet for me,” he murmured, before sliding two fingers along my soaked folds. I knew what he’d find.

I hummed quietly with anxious desire until he took my hand and led me over his thighs.

Once I was settled over his lap, he began to run his hands over the backs of my legs and up across my bare bottom.

The longer I lay over his lap, the more comfortable I became, and I sighed with appreciation at how very good it felt.

Every brush of his roughened palms against my skin was like a conduit that channeled my passion into a single point that threatened to tear me to pieces once he allowed me to come.

I realized then that I already wanted to come for him. I craved it.

I found myself arching into his touch, lifting my bottom for him so that he might continue his soft massaging of my skin. I spread my thighs for him in hopes that he might place those heavenly fingers against the place I needed it most.

But he didn’t. Not yet.

He squeezed my right cheek hard, digging his fingers into my flesh, and I whimpered. It had been quite a long time since I’d been put over his knee like this, and I had forgotten just how large his hand was as it spanned my naked backside.

Then he smacked my ass hard, and I remembered exactly how much just his hand hurt.

I squealed with surprise, and his other arm wound around my hip, pressing me down against his thighs.

His grip ensured that I wasn’t going to be able to escape the cruel bite of his palm for the remainder of this session over his knee. I was trapped.

The spanking began in earnest, and I found myself moaning softly as each spank burned hotly against my skin.

It hurt at first, but as he found his tempo, I began to surrender to it.

He thrashed my bottom all over and down my thighs relentlessly.

I soon found myself lifting my ass to meet each strike, embracing the fiery sting of the initial impact because soon after, it sank deeper and transformed into something else entirely.

It turned into pleasure, a blazing desire that settled deep in my core and demanded to be set free. With more pain came even more pleasure, and I soon found myself drowning in the sensations of both. I bit my lip when I realized that I could feel the hardness of his cock against my belly.

He was hard for me. Punishing me like this turned him on, and I liked that.

He spanked me harder, faster, and I could feel myself growing wetter. Inadvertently, I spread my legs a little, and his fingers caught the edges of my inner thighs.

“Open yourself wider for me. Show me just how wet your little pussy is after you’ve been properly punished, little mate,” he demanded, and I purred quietly with desire.

I obeyed. I spread myself for him, and his palm settled against my wet pussy.

“You know what’s going to happen now, don’t you, baby doll,” he said firmly, patting my sensitive folds with his hand several times before he stilled on top of it.

“I’m not sure, sir,” I whispered.

“This wet little pussy is going to get punished next to remind you that every single inch of you is mine to do with as I please. Mine to touch. Mine to pleasure. And mine to hurt,” he replied, and I couldn’t help myself as my thighs quivered with anxious desire.

“Please, sir,” I begged even though I knew it wouldn’t help me.

He didn’t respond with words. He responded with the cruel bite of his palm against my little pussy.

The sharpness of the slap against my tender wet folds was both loud and intensely painful. The sting spread across my skin, and I couldn’t help but cry out with the initial shock of just how much it hurt.

He did it again and again, until I was sure that the place between my legs was just as red as my ass.

My sore pussy burned with sensation, an intoxicating, hazy mixture of pleasure and pain that left me breathless with want.

His palm was brutal, and I soon found myself unable to press my pussy against his thigh because it hurt too much to do so.

“Tell me. Whose little pussy is this?” he asked firmly.

“Yours, sir. Please. It hurts,” I whimpered just before the wet sound of his palm smacking me there again echoed around us. The noise it made was shameful, clear evidence of just how turned on I was even as I was crying for him to stop.

He knew something about me though. He knew that I liked it when it hurt, and there was no way I was ever going to be able to hide that from him again. I was his. Completely.

He stopped spanking my pussy and instead dragged his fingers up and down the sopping wetness in between my thighs.

His inspection of my arousal was thorough, slow, and deliberate, almost as though he wanted me to understand that he knew just how very wet he made me when he took me in hand like this.

I wanted him. Badly.

“Please, I need to come,” I begged.

“Do you get to decide that, little Lupenii?” he asked softly, still dragging his fingers up and down the folds of my pussy.

“Please?” I pleaded.

He slapped my pussy several times in a row then, and I writhed over his knee.

“Answer the question, baby doll. Do you get to decide when you will come?” he demanded, more firmly this time, and my pussy tightened with need.

“No, sir. You get to decide when I come,” I finally whispered, feeling a hot blush come over my cheeks. He resumed his gentle caresses between my legs, teasing me incessantly as I begged for him. I wanted to come so badly that I was almost in tears.

When I thought I could take not a second more, he lifted me from his lap and placed me on my back on the bed.

“Spread your legs. Show me what is mine to take,” he commanded.

I obeyed and I felt myself blush harder. I knew what he would see. He’d see my wetness dripping onto my thighs. The pinkness of my freshly spanked pussy. He’d be able to see everything.

My legs trembled as I watched him slip his black shirt over his head.

With a knowing smirk, he unbuttoned his pants and kicked off his boots.

In moments, he was naked, too, delightfully so.

I couldn’t take my eyes off his massive erection.

Its size was as intimidating as it was arousing, and now that I wasn’t in heat any longer, I was a little nervous to take it.

But I knew better. I was going to take it because he wanted me to.

He climbed on top of me and placed his hands on either side of my head.

“You are so beautiful when you’re like this.

Soaking wet and desperately needy for my cock,” he mused, and I shivered as I could feel the heat of his shaft pressing up against the folds of my pussy.

Carefully, he shifted his hips and slid his length up and down against my very sensitive clit, and I moaned as a jolt of desire raced straight to my core.

“Please,” I begged as I shifted my hips just a little bit beneath him, trying to urge him to take me hard right then and there.

I wasn’t disappointed.

His cock slammed into my pussy with a brutal vigor that made my body go rigid with pain, as well as mind-blowing pleasure. He wasn’t gentle, but I hadn’t expected him to be. He fucked me hard because he knew that was exactly what I needed.

There were no bonds holding my wrists together this time. No heat for him to break. Just him and me completely bare, coming together as one. Just as we were fated to be.

Alaric claimed that he’d found me, but in reality, we’d found each other.

And nothing was ever going to break us apart.