Page 16

Chapter 16

Lotto

“ W ho’s in charge here?” I asked in a calm, even tone, although a hunger and desire nearly buckled me at the knees.

This woman had a hold on me I couldn’t describe. I couldn’t understand.

But one thing I did know.

Ari craved dominance. She practically begged for it. I could smell it on her. It sizzled from every pore on her body.

She chuckled with an eye roll. “If you expect for me to say you are. Then you’re delusional.”

“I don’t expect you to say anything,” I countered as I cleared the distance between us to take a firm grip of her arm. “I plan on making you say it.”

Her laugh, a mixture of defiance and anticipation, danced through the charged air between us. “Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?” Ari’s response was laced with a challenge, her eyes shimmering with the complexity of lightning—fleeting yet unforgettable.

I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear as I whispered, “By learning what you can’t resist.”

A subtle shift in her stance suggested a softening around the edges of her iron-clad will. I was on the right track.

She pulled back slightly to meet my gaze head-on, her arm still in my grasp. “You think you can figure me out?” she queried, skepticism threading through her words. Beneath it all was an unspoken invitation—a silent dare for me to unearth the layers she hid behind.

In response, I simply smiled. “I don’t think, Ari. I know.”

Confidence surged within me like a tidal wave ready to sweep over everything she’d set up to protect herself.

The room around us seemed to shrink as the tension built, waiting for release. For a moment, we stood locked in this battle of wills until finally, I eased my grip and traced a gentle path down her arm with my fingertips.

Ari’s breath hitched slightly at the contact, and her pulse at the base of her throat fluttered—a small victory.

“You have your work cut out for you,” she said after a brief silence, stepping away from me but not out of reach—a signal that our dance was far from over.

“And you haven’t seen how persistent I can be,” I responded with equal parts warning and promise.

With zero hesitation, and most certainly without asking for permission, I took hold of her pants, yanked her toward me, and reached for the button.

Ari reacted with a sharp intake of breath, her body momentarily stiffening before melting into the force of my pull. Her eyes, alight with a fiery mix of surprise and excitement, never left mine as I undid the button and slowly dragged down the zipper. The sound seemed to reverberate through the room like a prelude to the storm that was about to ensue.

I slipped my hands beneath her pants’ waistband, pushing them down just enough to reveal the smooth skin underneath. “Have you ever cried for a man before?”

Her eyes darkened. “Cry? For a man?” she scoffed. Her voice carried the echo of past scorn but with an undercurrent of intrigue. “I don’t cry.”

Heat emanated from her skin beneath my fingertips. “You’re about to.”

A flicker of something undefinable crossed Ari’s face—trepidation or the thrill of the unknown? She took a deliberate step backward, her pants slipping further down but catching on the curve of her hips. The motion was a silent acknowledgment of the power I wielded in that moment.

“You’re awfully confident,” she said, deliberately teasing, clearly trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation.

But her body betrayed her; the involuntary shiver that coursed through her when I traced her exposed skin with my fingers spoke volumes.

My response was a low chuckle, a sound that seemed to fan the flames of her internal conflict. “I’m going to spank that ass of yours until your tears streak that beautiful face.” I dropped my voice to a husky timbre as I closed the gap between us once more. “It’s going to hurt. And you’re going to plead for me to stop as you try to fight me off. But I also know that deep inside, you’re also going to secretly hope I don’t.”

Ari’s jaw tightened, and her breathing quickened—telltale signs that I had struck a chord. “You think you know so much,” she shot back, but this time the defiance that usually colored her words was tinged with an edge of curiosity.

I allowed myself a small, self-assured smile. “I know enough.”

The air around us crackled with an electric energy that could power a city for hours. This was no longer merely a game of pushing boundaries; it was an intricate dance on a tightrope of desire and control.

With my hands still resting on her hips, I felt the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her underwear. She made no move to fix her pants. Instead, she waited, watched, and wondered what my next move would be.

I traced patterns across her hips, moving my fingers slowly toward the small of her back, applying pressure in just the right spots to make her lean into my touch.

“Bend over your desk like a good girl,” I commanded as I lowered her panties to bare her perfect pussy.

Ari’s hesitation was fleeting, a brief dance of uncertainty in her eyes before it was replaced by the resolute glint of a woman who was no stranger to challenges. She pivoted gracefully, the half-fallen pants now an afterthought as they pooled around her ankles, and she approached the desk with an air of defiance that made her every movement a taunt.

With a fluid motion, she bent over the desk, her hands splayed across the smooth surface for support. The vulnerability of her position was a stark contrast to the fierce independence that oozed from her persona, yet there she was, presenting herself to me.

I took a moment to appreciate the view—the curve of her back arching down to the fullness of her behind, presented as though it were an offering to the gods of desire.

I hovered my hand above her skin, an unspoken threat that sent shivers through her frame. Then, without warning, I brought it down sharply. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed off the walls, and a rosy hue bloomed across her skin where my hand had made contact.

Ari let out a gasp, a sound caught between pain and pleasure, and I could sense the battle raging within her—to maintain composure or to surrender to the sensations overtaking her body.

I struck again, harder this time, and watched as she gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles whitening with the effort to remain silent.

I wasn’t going light on her, and I had no intentions of doing so.

Over and over, I brought my hand down on her upturned ass, knowing she wouldn’t let down her wall easily.

Her breathing became ragged as I continued, each slap a wordless communication that tested and broke down barriers. With every strike, Ari’s resistance frayed at the edges until soft whimpers began to spill from her lips.

It was clear she was not as untouchable as she’d claimed.

“You have the perfect ass to spank,” I praised after a particularly sharp slap that drew a yelp from her. “But don’t hold back on my account. Let me hear you.”

I spanked again, and again, each time harder than the last. Her pink ass began to turn a fiery shade of red.

“Ow! Okay, you proved your point,” she cried. “Stop!” She tried to stand, but I only held her down more.

I had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

“I know it hurts, angel,” I said as I peppered slaps underneath each cheek, the sensitive flesh no doubt on fire by now.

“Yes!” she howled. “It hurts.”

“Good, because I have a feeling my angel likes a little pain.”

“Someone could hear us,” she cried out, keeping her voice low.

“Let them.” I had no secrets to keep from anyone.

“This is too much.”

“Just enough.” I continued to spank even harder.

“Please!”

Ari’s response was choked off by another spank, this one eliciting a moan that filled the room with its raw honesty. Tears glistened at the corners of her eyes now—not from pain but from release—as emotions she’d kept dammed up started to pour.

“You don’t always have to be in control. You don’t always have to be strong. You don’t always have to act tough. Not anymore.”

A delicate whimper escaped her lips.

“Do you know what I do for Bones?” I asked. “I manage, I take control, and I protect. All so he doesn’t have to. I plan to do this for you now, too.”

Her whimpers grew as I spanked her red ass even more.

Even as I marveled at this unraveling—a mix of power and protectiveness swirling within me—I leaned down close to her ear. My voice was both stern and seductive as I whispered, “Now tell me... do you still think you don’t cry for anyone?”

A single tear trailed down Ari’s cheek as she finally allowed herself to be vulnerable.

“You win,” Ari admitted, her pride swallowed by the raw catharsis of the moment. “I cry... for you.”

The admission hung heavy in the air between us, a sacred confession that bound us more tightly than any physical chain could. I had this with Bones, and now have it with Ari.

I straightened, still looming over her, aware the dynamics of our relationship had shifted in a way neither of us could ignore.

I ran a soothing hand over her backside’s reddened skin, tracing gentle patterns to alleviate some of the sting from the discipline I had administered.

“Look at you,” I murmured, my tone softer now but still laced with authority. “So strong, so defiant, yet you’re willing to show me your tears. Only for me.”

Ari’s breath hitched as I allowed my fingers to wander from her tender cheeks down the backs of her thighs, drawing goosebumps in their wake. She remained bent over the desk, her body language speaking volumes about her inner turmoil and newfound trust.

“I’m not going to stop pushing you,” I continued as I leaned in closer again, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “But every push will come with my promise to be there to catch you.”

With her pants still around her ankles and vulnerability etched into every line of her figure, Ari was the picture of chaos and beauty intertwined.

“Now,” I said with a sly grin as I stepped back enough to give her room to compose herself. “I believe it’s your turn to do something for me.” I unfastened my pants and pulled my raging hard cock out. “Show me your submission.”

Slowly, she rose from her position over the desk, the movements deliberate and almost regal as she turned to face me.

A new softness in her expression was tempered by the raw intensity of the moment. Without breaking eye contact, she sank gracefully to her knees, her gaze never leaving mine as she reached out with a tremor that was more about anticipation than uncertainty.

She wrapped her fingers around my hardness.

She looked up at me from beneath thick lashes, seeking silent permission in a way that acknowledged my control while still honoring her own strength. I gave a singular nod—a silent command—and watched as she leaned forward.

Her lips glided along my length, wrapping around me with a pressure that built steadily, drawing a guttural groan from deep within me. I threaded my fingers through her hair, offering both guidance and appreciation for the gift of her surrender. With each bob and swirl of tongue, I felt the last remnants of any barriers between us dissolve into nothingness.

“Yeah, baby. Swallow me down. Take all of me,” I said as I closed my eyes and my entire body tensed.

Her mouth worked with a fervor that matched the intensity of the spanking.

My release approached, an unstoppable force that surged through my veins with every movement of her head.

“God, you’re perfect,” I praised between clenched teeth as I fought against the tide rising within me.

The heat in my belly coiled tighter and tighter.

My grip on her hair tightened reflexively as wave after wave crashed over me, my body shuddering with each pulse as I spilled myself into her.

She pulled away and wiped at the corners of her mouth with a smirk. “You like that?”

My breath was heavy, my heart pounding an erratic rhythm against my ribcage. I looked down at her, her smirk, that knowing glint in her eyes—it was all perfect. The smirk wasn’t just confidence; it was a challenge, a silent acknowledgment of the power she wielded even in submission.

The girl could give a blowjob, and she damn well knew it.

And just like that, I wasn’t sure if she’d gained the upper hand.

Without breaking eye contact, she reached out to run a finger up and down my balls, tracing through the thin layer of sweat that had formed. The touch sent another jolt through me, a whisper of what more could come.

“There’s more where that came from,” came her sultry promise, “but we have work to do to get ready for tomorrow.”