Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
That maybe, I’m still so inexperienced because the right man hadn’t come along yet. The way he talks, the things he wants to do to me, the thrill of this whole crazy experience, has me feeling more alive than I’ve felt in a very long time.
Maybe even ever.
He stands from his seat, striding over to me. He reaches his hand down and I take it. He’s so strong he pulls me up and has me out of the water in one fluid movement.
I stand, dripping, my bare feet pressed into the concrete.
The air is chilly, and my nipples tighten further. Instinctively my hands go to my bare, shaven pussy, covering it in shame.
“Tsk, tsk naughty girl. Don’t hide yourself from me.”
My hands drop and he takes one in his, leading me over to his lounge chair. I’m confused for a moment—why aren’t we going in, to the privacy of his home? With a shocking twist in my stomach, I realize he means to punish me here, out in the open.
Even though he said it’s private here, anyone could see me laid out over his lap. Anyone could hear the slapping of wet skin, hear my cries. And yet, no one knows who I am.
The idea is exhilarating, yet terrifying. Goosebumps rise on my flesh, my heart thumping against my ribcage as I manage to squeak out, “Here?”
“Yes, here. I like to punish naughty girls at the scene of the crime. Makes the lesson all the more memorable.”
So he’s done this to others. Jealousy flares through me.
Why?
Am I supposed to answer, or is this a rhetorical question?
He sits down on the lounger, his knees bent, his thighs spread, ready to receive me. “Now, show me how sorry you are and lay yourself over my lap.” He pats his knee.
Trembling, I force myself to kneel beside him on the lounger, crawling across his lap until I’m laid flat over him, my legs lying on the chair, my bottom perched over his lap. My hands fold beneath my head and I rest my face on my cheek, looking out over the city.
His hand smooths over my bare skin. At his soft touch, my breath catches in my throat in a choked moan.
To lie here naked, my skin wet from the tub, the cool air rushing over me, the world stretched out below me, resting on the hard thighs of a man with worlds’ more experience than me—it’s a total mind fuck.
I’m nothing but pure sensation, feeling his palm stroke my skin. Waiting, the anticipation of the swat that’s to come makes my stomach flip and flop against his leg. His hand leaves my curves. I feel it hover in the air. Then it comes down with a loud smack.
The pain is more than I anticipated. Sucking in air between my teeth, I wriggle my hips.
His arm locks around my waist, pinning me to him. “Naughty girls who lie get their bare asses punished. Don’t they, Katie?”
“Yes... yes, sir.”
His hand smooths over my hot flesh. “Ask me for your spanking.”
White heat covers my face. I can’t do it. There’s no way I can say what he wants to hear.
His hand comes down again, smacking my ass twice as hard as the first time and starting a new fire. The words come flying from my mouth. “Please! Please spank me, sir.”
I have officially lost it.
“There’s a good girl.” He gives my ass a few light pats, then begins spanking me in earnest. His hand comes down, covering every inch of my curves. The sensation is pain and shame, and yet somewhere tied up in this jumbled knot of emotions, is a heavy feeling of desire. The heat from his spanks spreads over my curves, seeping between my thighs.
A gush of arousal pools at my sex, my pussy throbbing in time with his heavy-handed spanks. I hold in a moan; it's too humiliating to let him hear how much his punishment is turning me on.
“Spread your legs. Let daddy see how wet you are for him.”
My world tilts on its axis. What did he just say?
Chapter 4
Darius
I got so caught up in the moment, in her wide eyes and obvious signs of arousal, that I lost myself. The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.
This is the part where they run.
This is the part where they call me sick, a pervert, and they slap my face or thank me for my time, but this is how far it goes.
Every. Damn. Time.
But this girl… this girl is different. When I told her she was a bad girl who deserved to be spanked, she reacted with the perfect, intoxicating blend of curiosity and arousal, tinted with the slightest bit of fear.
“Oh, God,” Katie says, closing her eyes as her cheeks flush pink. I wrap my hand around her waist, a silent plea for her to trust me. A reminder that I’ve got her.