His hand smoothed over my behind, caressing the spot where he spanked me. "Good girl."
My wrist was tugged forward, doing the very thing he scolded me for moments earlier. I bit back the urge to address the contradiction. When my second was brought to the railing as well and my body was pulled forward, I had bigger concerns.
Was he tying me to the railing?
"Spread your legs."
Brain functioning slowed to a crawl as I stepped out wide. My body was electric, from my toes curling against the cement, to the goosebumps that rushed up my calf, and the welcome ache of the chilly air against my erotic flesh. And then there were his fingers, tracing up and down my spine, silent torture as he worked his way toward my behind.
"I'm going to spank you, Leila." The fingers tightened, kneading as he moved closer to the moist heat at my center.
"B-but..." My protest became a moan as he spread my cheeks. One of yearning. Suddenly, I didn't care that I hadn't done anything that warranted a spanking.
His fingers dove inside me, granting my plea, sending pleasure shooting to every nerve receptor in my body. My world, my existence was the rhythm of his touch. The way he drew in and out, the way I felt whole with him inside me.
And then he stopped.
My eyes sprung open, the darkness giving nothing away. His voice slashed through the silence.
"You're wondering why I stopped—and why you're being punished."
I dipped my chin to my chest, then quickly answered, "Yes sir."
"I owe you no explanation, but the sun is shining and you look especially beautiful tied up. Helpless."
I sucked in a gasp as I felt the muscular lines of his body—and the hardened length of his cock.
"I'm punishing you because there's nothing like watching your perfect skin blush for me." I couldn't help but tilt my head back and he rewarded me by brushing his lips along the line of my neck. When he drew back to my ear, the gentle kisses were a distant memory. He seized my earlobe between his teeth. He bared down until I let out a shuddering breath.
He released his hold, his voice thick with desire. "I'm spanking you because I long to take you to the place of bliss between pleasure and agony. I'm spanking you because I want to make you cry and come all at once."
Anyone else saying that would have been appalling. I wouldn't let them touch me with a ten foot pole. But what Jacob and I had was the lushest taboo. No one controlled my body like him. No one else could make me melt with a single touch. He got that I needed to surrender, to submit to be free.
"Let's begin."
My body exploded with pain as his hand collided with my skin. I grit my teeth and opened my mouth to keep count, but he rubbed the spot instead. His voice was just as soft and soothing as his touch.
"Counting is unnecessary. I want you to feel the strikes—and then you'll feel what you do to me."
If I wasn't immobilized, I would have melted right to the floor. When the second blow landed, I was liquid. Putty in his hands to mold as he saw fit. Even in the darkness the world exploded in a rainbow of sensations. The burn of pain met the soft kiss as his hands caressed the havoc he wreaked.
When I felt him untying my wrists, my ankles, I still gripped the railing. Tears burned my eyes, matching the stinging that pricked my bottom.
In an instant the world rushed up to meet me, the brightness overwhelming, sight and sound too much to bear. I squeezed my eyes shut as he spun me around to face him and I moaned into his mouth as our lips met. We spoke our secret language, his kisses tentative at first, asking me if I was okay. If I was still his.
I brought my arms up and circled his neck, bringing him closer. Even with my eyes closed I saw him. His love, his passion, the rock hard erection that pierced through his jeans, still taking my breath away.
When my eyes fluttered open I saw him staring back at me, that delicious smirk lighting up his face.
"You see something you want?"
My eyes dropped to his crotch, then shot back up to the blue. "Oh yes." I gasped. "Oh yes sir."
"I'll forgive your slip because you're so adorable when you let out those little gasps." He brushed a curly tendril behind my ear, his fingertips trailing up and down the line of my neck. "And I think you know what your moans do to me." He gripped my wrists and brought my hands down until my fingertips brushed the hard impression of his arousal.
I was memorized by it. Salivating for it.
"Bend over the chair,” he ordered. “Ass facing me."
I obeyed, my hands flat, presenting myself to him. Trembling with anticipation.
"Spread your legs."
I thought you'd never ask. I didn't hear him unzip, toss aside his jeans. But I felt his hands grip my waist, teasing me. He'd take me rough. I'd feel the ache of this all day and when I woke up in the morning, hot twinges would thrust me back to these moments when we belonged to each other.
He drove inside me in a single, absolute thrust and I let out a mournful cry of bliss. Sad because I'd never get enough of him. Elated because I'd get to spend the rest of my life finding out just how deep this rabbit hole went.
I clutched the chair helplessly as it rattled with every pounding thrust. He moved in and out of me like a man possessed. There was no rhyme or reason. He was wild, consumed by his lust. And I was a few little words away from exploding.
"Jacob, may I-"
His raw, guttural cry drowned out my question and I felt his warmth spread inside of me. I stood there, chest heaving, body so close to finding my own ecstasy. Clutching his still hard cock. Ready.
And then he pulled out of me.
I didn’t move. Still gripping the chair. Eyes looking straight ahead. My release slipping out of reach.
He always let me come.
Well, until just now.
I stood upright, questions volleying around my head like some brutal tennis match: He said he wasn't punishing me because of something I did, so what's going on? That can't be it—he gets his fill then goes on his merry way?
But I faced him and he was practically redressed. I watched in silence as he grabbed his coffee and advanced towards me. I took a little solace in the fact that he was at least giving me a kiss. He leaned in...and planted his lips on my forehead.
"You can get dressed."
I watched him go, hurt squeezing my vocal chords. And then I obeyed.
TWO
****
I stared at my reflection in the chrome doors of the elevator. My chestnut curls were pinned up and away, a bun perched at the crown of my head. The scoop neck of my black sheath dress elongated my neck line...and drew my eyes to a red mark near my ear.