Page 7 of Resisting the Temptation (Broken Shelves #3)

Emma

I stand and pull my dress over my head and gently lay it over the arm of the chaise. Sir’s eyes greedily roam over every inch of exposed flesh—which is pretty much all of it. All I have on underneath is a matching pink thong, which is now wet and sticking to the lips of my pussy.

He stares for so long I start feeling self-conscious.

I’m not a small girl. I’m a size twenty on a good day, with a round belly, thick thighs, and big, saggy breasts.

I will say, my ass is popping though. I’ve done a lot of work to get over the internalized fat phobia ingrained into me by my family and society, so I appreciate my body for what it is.

Even though I’ve done the work, sometimes I still get insecure. Especially when the people looking at every stretch mark and imperfection look like B does. Holy moly .

Even in my four-inch heels, I barely reach his chin. He’s got jet black, curly hair that’s been perfectly styled without a strand out of place. My hands itch to mess it up. His dark beard is perfectly trimmed over his sharp jaw. Olive skin, brown eyes, and muscles for days.

Huh, he kind of looks like that one FBI agent from that crime show. The one in the newer seasons.

Maybe we can role play sometime; he can be the FBI agent, and I’ll play the technical analyst.

Finally, he ends his perusal at my eyes and licks his thick, dusky pink lips. “I can’t wait to take a bite out of you, Dulzura. ”

God, I don’t know what that means, but it sounds so good coming from his mouth. I think I like it more than “honey.”

“Sit on the chaise, spread your legs, and pull your pretty little thong to the side. Let me see what you’re hiding under there.”

I do as he says, spreading my legs and pulling my panties to the side to reveal my bare pussy. His chest rumbles with an appreciative groan sending a pulse of arousal straight to my already throbbing clit.

“Such an eager little slut for me.” My pussy pulses at the degrading praise. “What’s your color, honey?”

“Green, Sir.” God, I’m so fucking needy right now. He hasn’t even touched me, and I’m ready to combust.

“What would your color be if I got on my knees and put my face in your pussy?”

“Green,” I sigh. B arches an eyebrow at me, and I realize my mistake. “Green, Sir. ”

He hums, standing from the chair, revealing the tent in his perfectly tailored slacks. My mouth waters as I imagine what his cock might look like, feel like against my tongue.

“Since this is your first time, I’ll let the mistake slide, but if you forget to address me properly again, you’ll receive a punishment. Do you understand, Dulzura ?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Pull your panties off, I don’t want to be restricted while I ravish you.”

I ungracefully shuck my panties and lay them with my dress, then resume the position I was in. B takes off his suit jacket and lays it on the arm of the chair, then rolls his black dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows, revealing muscled forearms that have me salivating.

He kneels before me and takes off my shoes, then runs his hands up my legs slowly, a trail of goosebumps following their path.

His hands are rough and calloused, a stark contrast to the soft, dimpled skin of my thighs.

He runs his thumbs over the matching garter belt tattoos on each thigh.

They look like delicate black lace around my thick thighs, tied together with a bow that looks like it’s made of satin.

They were done in more than a few sessions because of how detailed they are and because of how thick my thighs are, but they’re one of my favorite pieces.

“These are gorgeous, Dulzura. ”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“I almost wish they were real so I could pull them off with my teeth.”

I wasn’t asked a direct question or given a direct order, so I don’t say anything as he leans in and inhales deeply, just a hair's breadth away from my pussy .

A low, satisfied grumble works its way up his throat, and my pussy clenches at the sound. “You smell absolutely deliciosa, Dulzura . I bet you taste even better.”

B looks up at me from between my thighs as he leans in the rest of the way and licks me slowly between the lips of my pussy. I gasp at the sensation.

It’s not like I’ve never been eaten out before, but for some reason, everything is heightened right now. Maybe it’s because I haven’t had sex in a few weeks, or maybe it’s because this dynamic with B is different from past hookups.

Whatever it is, I don’t want it to stop.

Of their own accord, my hands move, intending to grab onto his mass of curly hair. Before I can get my hands on him, B’s large hands wrap around my wrists and stop them.

His espresso-colored eyes meet mine as he pulls away. “Did I give you permission to touch me?”

I shake my head. “No, Sir. I’m sorry.”

B tsks. “I believe that’s grounds for punishment, don’t you think? Good girls ask for permission before touching.”

I suppress a needy whine. “Yes, Sir. I want to be your good girl.”

B stands, then sits back down in the armchair he vacated just moments ago. “Come lie across my lap.”

I stand but hesitate. Obviously, he’s strong, but I’m not a small girl. “I…”

He wings a dark eyebrow. “Tell me why you’re hesitating.”

“I’m not a small girl, Sir. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You think you’re too heavy? ”

“Yes, Sir.”

B stands and crowds my body, using his pointer finger and thumb to tip my chin up so I’m forced to look into his eyes.

“I will not tolerate you body-shaming yourself, Dulzura. If I ask you to do something, trust I know whether or not I can handle it. Understood?”

“Understood, Sir.”

B’s eyes dart down to my lips, and his tongue pokes out to wet his own. I’m cursing myself for enacting my “no kissing” rule with him right now. I want to kiss him. I bet his kisses are commanding and intense, just like him. But my limits exist for a reason, and I have to keep that in mind.

He releases my chin and steps back to sit down again, then pats his lap in a silent command. I obey this time, draping myself over his strong thighs. His hard erection prods my side, but he makes no move to adjust it.

“I’m going to spank you five times as your first punishment for not asking permission to touch me and five times for not following my instructions and body-shaming yourself for a total of ten strikes. You will count them out loud. What’s your color?”

“Green, Sir.”

“Excellent.”

With no warning or warm up, he brings his palm down harshly on my left ass cheek.

“One,” I gasp.

Smack.

“Two.”

Smack .

“Three,” I moan. The initial shock of pain is morphing into an aching pleasure, and I fear I’m going to soak through his nice pants.

Four and five come in rapid succession, then he rubs his palm gently over the sore spots he’s smacked.

“Color, honey?”

“Green, green, green. Sir.” I squirm on his lap, desperately needing something to give me friction on my clit.

“This is supposed to be a punishment, Dulzura. Is your cunt getting wet from me reddening this perfect ass?”

My cheeks grow hot at his blatant teasing, but when I don’t answer fast enough, he smacks me again.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, Sir. My pussy is wet from you spanking my ass.”

“Seems I might have a little pain slut on my hands. I can’t wait to explore that more. Count the last four for me.”

I’m almost embarrassed by how hot being called a slut makes me. It’s the second time he’s done it, and the fire in my lower belly grows hotter each time.

He spanks me four more times, and I count them out.

My pussy is leaking by the time B is done with my punishment.

He rubs my sore ass gently, then traces a single finger over the swell and down towards my dripping sex.

He doesn't touch me where I need him most, but I’m so worked up from the spankings I almost come right then.

“You took your punishment so well, Dulzura. Your ass looks so pretty in this color, with my handprints marking it. Would you like to come now?”

“Yes, please, Sir.” He traces his fingers over my lower lips, still avoiding my clit, then dips just the tip of his finger inside to gather the wetness.

He leans down so his hot breath fans against my ear. “Beg for it.”

“Please, Sir. I need to come. Please let me come. I’ll do anything. Please. ”

He drags his wet fingertip up to my swollen bud and rubs in slow, teasing circles making me sigh in relief. It’s not enough, I need more, but I don’t want to be too greedy.

“Do you need more, Dulzura? ”

“Yes, please, Sir.”

He pulls his fingers back from my clit, and I whine at the loss. “Go spread yourself out on the chaise again. You interrupted me last time, and I’d like to finish.”