Page 16 of Her Bad Boy

He should be a good enough man to resist the temptation. He desperately wanted to be that kind of man, for her, as well as for himself. But he wasn't, apparently. It was a sobering thought, but still, not enough of one to get him to leave her alone.

So, he found himself finishing the job she'd started and lowering her skirt, taking with it her panties and bunching them up about mid-thigh or so, which would make it harder for her to kick, if she was a kicker. And with the way he spanked, most women in his experience became kickers, even if they weren't before.

Lucas disciplined with a purpose, and it made him a force to be reckoned with in that arena. He didn't believe in warm ups and he didn't believe in rubbing the pain away before, during or after. He didn't believe in going easy on someone who had decided not to obey him.

That having been said, that big, heavy hand of his found the rounded curves of her bottom completely irresistible, and he ended up rubbing them, anyway, although it was beforehand and wasn't going to do her any good.

Her skin was incredibly soft, her flesh firm and resilient. Before he left off, his palm was literally itching to give her the correction she so obviously not only needed, but wanted.

But he forced himself to take his time, still half expecting that she was going to leap off his lap while he adjusted his position, then hers over his thighs, pulling her more tightly to him and adoring her surprised, "Ooh!" when he did.

"Give me your far hand," he said, putting his other hand palm down on the couch.

"Why?" she asked, just as he'd expected she would.

That response earned her her very first swat. "Don't ask, just obey, young lady."

And it was an eye opener. She would have sworn that, when he removed his hand from her bottom, he left an imprint of every detail about his palm and fingers in livid red on the fullest crest of her flesh, completely robbing her, momentarily, of her ability to draw air into her lungs.

Meanwhile, her small hand crept its way to his with considerable more reluctance than she might have had prior to that smack.

But she didn't cry and jump off his lap, as many women had—when he let them. She stayed where she was. And other than holding her hand, he wasn't keeping her there in any way.

And he liked that. He liked it when a woman submitted herself to him. Oh, he enjoyed binding them in myriad ways, too, so that they had no choice, but there was nothing like the feeling—to him, as a dom—of the purity of true submission, when the naughty girl had come to terms with the fact that this was exactly what she needed and gave herself over to it—to him—completely and of her own volition.

Of course, she really didn't know what she'd gotten herself into, he didn't think. Lucas would have bet his last dollar that she'd never been spanked before in her life—even by her parents, who, from all reports, loved her terribly and spoiled her rotten, although they'd somehow, despite that, managed to raise a woman who was—despite her recent attempt to turn to the dark side—just about the farthest thing from a brat he'd ever encountered.

As soon as her hand made its way into his, he began to spank her, using hard, crisp, very deliberate swats that each meant business, covering all of her behind and down to where her clothes were trapped, then back up again in a very measured, controlled, almost emotionless manner.

And she responded perfectly—exactly as if she was following the script he'd been writing in his head and playing over and over every evening since they'd had dinner together that night and he'd realized just how compatible they were in regards to this very thing.

Allie gasped and groaned, whimpering and eventually sobbing rather quickly, none of which he acknowledged in any way, but all of which he loved. She wasn't trying to sound the way she thought he might like her to—she was simply experiencing the pain he was inflicting and reacting in a normal, non-jaded manner. He didn't begrudge it when she began to try to wiggle her enticing little bottom away from each stroke, but he was also experienced enough to anticipate where she was going, so that nearly every smack landed exactly where he wanted it to, despite her efforts, which became more and more frantic and frenetic as the spanking went on.

Since it was her first ever—and her first from him, as well—he had intended to give her a shorter lesson, but he became quite entranced by everything about what was happening between them, and it went on longer than he might have wanted for her first punishment from him.

Lucas ended it when it had gotten to the point that he was probably going to have to hold her down, and he didn't want that—at least, not now—so he landed a last few swats that were very near to full force. He always made sure that the last swats he gave a woman were as close to harder than the entire rest of the punishment so it would be the last thing she would remember about it—keeping her on his lap just long enough to deliver those, then he let go of her.

Even then, she didn't scramble quickly away from him, and he kept her close to him—although he would have released her immediately if she had actively tried to stand up—keeping a hold of her hand and resting his strong, now considerably hot, right hand on the small of her back, rubbing her there soothingly, above where he'd made her hot, too. In more ways than one, he sincerely hoped.

She was sobbing, and he gave her several tissues so she could dry her eyes and blow her nose. When she was done, he turned her on his lap, slowly and gently, to cradle her in his arms, encouraging her to lean her head against his chest while she continued to sniffle a bit, offering her the comfort and safety of his arms now that she had been punished and was, therefore, forgiven. At one point, he leaned forward, grabbing the glass and pressing it to her lips. She drank down quite a bit of the water without protest.

"Good girl," he praised. "But I want you to finish this within the next ten minutes."

Still damp eyed and flushed, she turned her eyes up to his, asking, even though she thought she probably knew the answer already, "What happens if I don't?"

Brushing her hair out of her eyes, Lucas answered quietly and truthfully, "Then I will spank you again—longer and harder."

Allie didn't say anything to that. Instead, she immediately drained the glass in several gulps, making him laugh.

Lucas could hardly believe that she was sitting here with him like this, his arms around her, her skirt and panties still gathered up around her knees, her bare, sizzling bottom sitting atop a pinstriped bulge that was growing by the second, it seemed.

On impulse, he leaned down and kissed her, more passionately than he had before, but still not being as physically possessive of her as he might like to be, because he kept expecting that she was going to come to her senses at any moment and want to be free of him.

But Allie surprised him by returning the kiss whole heartedly, her mouth opening tentatively beneath his, as if in invitation, one he readily accepted, his eager tongue plundering past her lips as a small hand came up to touch his cheek.

It was the first time she'd ever touched him when she didn't absolutely have to—he discounted her leaning on him in the car as more of a physical necessity—and that realization made him shudder to his core, emboldening him to clamp her more tightly to him, to demand more from her. And when she hesitated slightly, to take it without asking as he wound a hand into her hair and held her still for a much deeper kiss, tugging her head back in a manner that was designed not to hurt her, but to keep her in a position that was submissive to him as he drank in her involuntary gasp when he did so.

And he held her there, like that, head pulled back, mouth slightly open as he allowed his other hand to move from where it had been cupping her face to trail fingertips that were surprisingly rough down her neck to a delicate collarbone and further, until he felt his hand filled nearly to overflowing, a peak, he was relieved to realize was as tight and hard as he was, pressing insistently into his palm.

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