Page 16 of Sacred Vow

“Let me up!” I yell, unsuccessfully bucking upward.

“I will. As soon as we’re done here,” he assures me as though he’s just promised an errant child a lollipop if they will behave in the store.

I punch his calf as hard as I can, but the man is made of steel. I’m pretty sure I hurt myself more than him.

“I should have done this last night when you tried to stab me with your damn shoe.” He reaches beneath me and works the single button on my jean shorts open with one hand.

“Don’t! No!” I try to reach back and stop him, but with entirely too much skill, he pushes my shorts over my ass, letting them bunch at my thighs.

“A thong?”

A gag gift from Marlena for my birthday, after I’d told her a thong was nothing more than lady floss. I haven’t been able to do my laundry today, so the damn devil panties were all I had left.

“I never pegged you for a thong girl.”

I stiffen at the comment. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing. I just figured you wore cute panties, but nothing too sexy.”

“Nothing too sexy?” I want off his lap so I can smack him.

“You were a kid when I saw you last, Isolde.”

“I was fifteen! I wasn’t a little kid.”

“Basically a kid. Until I saw you in that dress last night…” His words trail off, but his fingertips join the conversation, trailing over my bare ass cheeks. “The thong makes this easier.” He lifts his hand, letting the cool air of the room brush along my skin.

It’s only cool for a moment before he sets my ass on fire with the first slap of his hand across my cheek. I go rigid, unsure really of what to do.

Another smack lands and another.

“Stop it!” Every single fantasy I’ve ever had of this exact situation is ruined by the hot pain he paints all over my ass.

“Not until I’m done.” He peppers the upside of my ass then moves down to my thighs, pausing only to shove my shorts down a little further.

“Okay! Okay!” I wiggle side to side, but I can’t get out of his grip well enough to avoid the punishing hand.

The smacks get harder and harder. My attempt to block him with my own hand gets thwarted when he grabs my wrist and pins it to my back. Now I’m hurting and twisted.

He slows the spanks, more deliberate in his aim as he increases the strength again.

I’m out of fight.

Hot tears roll freely from my eyes.

“I know you don’t understand, but you’re not safe here on your own,” he says softly. The spanking has stopped. He’s rubbing gentle circles over my tender ass. I can only imagine what a mess it looks like.

I stop the sob from breaking free; it’s the only control I have. If I open my mouth to speak, who knows what will fall out.

He eases me to my feet and stands along with me, wiping my cheeks with both of his hands. I sniffle, try to look away, but he captures my face. His thumb runs along my bottom lip. An electric tingle zips through me.

His mouth covers mine. His hand slips from my chin down to my throat, gently wrapping around it as he presses harder against me.

“Open for me, Izzy,” he says against my closed mouth.

I whimper, unsure of the feelings bombarding me, of the sensations dancing all through my body as his tongue runs along the seam of my mouth. Slowly, I part my lips, and he takes advantage, taking full possession of the moment.

When he pulls back, he stares down at me with stormy eyes. His pupils have taken over his irises, and the steel rod that is his cock brushes against me. I lick at my lip, at where his mouth was touching, where his tongue had touched.

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