Page 98 of Callum

I groan when his hips grind against my ass, my head dropping back to rest against his shoulder. “No.”

Callum tsks his disappointment against the side of my neck. “Lying is a sin, Red,” his teeth close around my earlobe, and I suck in a hard breath. “Here I was, hoping you’d be good for once in your fucking life.”

“Never,” I promise, pressing my ass against him again. He walks us forward until I’m standing in front of the altar. There’s a long table in front of me, and my mind fills with all kinds of possibilities, none of which are appropriate for a church.

“Hands on the altar, kitten.”

“Eat a dick, Callum.” I bite the words at him, but obey the command anyway, hinging my hips forward and pressing my palms into the faux-marble countertop.

Another dark laugh rumbles through his chest as he takes a step back, grabbing my hips to stretch my body away from the altar. He quickly slides my pants and underwear over the curve of my ass, and I groan at the thought of being exposed like this in a church. “Looks like your body might disagree with your mouth, Red.”

I huff but don’t try to deny it. There’s nothing I love more than being spread out for him, and he fucking knows it. “Give me a color.”

“Green,” I sigh, pressing back to meet his hand where it’s hovering behind me.

His palm cracks against the spot where my ass and thigh meet, and I let out a low moan. My head drops forward, and I smile to myself.

“Has it been that long, kitten?” When I don’t say anything, he smacks the same spot again. Strong fingers trace the outline of his handprint, and I shiver at the thought of what I must look like to him. “Do I need to remind you of the rules, Red?”

“No,” I sigh, arching my back to press against his palm again. “Two, Callum.”

“Oh, no,” he laughs, rubbing his fingers against the raised flesh. “You start with one, kitten.”

His hand cracks against my skin again, and I groan. “One, Callum.”

“Good girl,” he rewards me with a soft scrape of his nails against the fresh slap. A gentle pain shoots up my spine, causing my hips to rock against the air between us. Callum pulls back before mirroring the three slaps to my other cheek, humming appreciatively when I count each one.

“What do you think, kitten? Should we go to ten?”

“Yes, Callum.”

“Such a slut for punishment,” he says it more to himself than me, but I hear him anyway. My head nods between my outstretched arms, and I close both eyes when his hand cracks against my ass again.

“Five, Callum.” I patiently count three more slaps before my shoulders give out under me. My chest droops forward, my knees shaking and breaths coming in short pants.

“Color, Rosalind.”

“Green,” I moan, sucking in as much air as I can manage. “So fucking green, Callum.”

He delivers the last two spanks in quick succession, his patience for this lesson seeming to have run out.

“You’re so fucking wet, kitten,” he mumbles the words against my back, his fingers pressing deep into my pussy. I make a sound in agreement, rolling my hips against his palm. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, Callum.” He moves back, and I nearly whine at the loss of contact, but it turns into a deep moan when he slides the head of his cock against my swollen clit. “Please.”

Callum grabs the hair at the base of my skull with one hand to keep my head from drooping forward when he presses into me. “Fuck, kitten. You’re always so pliant when you’ve been punished. Why can’t you be like this all the time?”

My only answer is the sharp press of my hips against his, begging me for more. He gives in, using the hand twisted in my hair to hold me in place as he fucks into me over and over. I sob out his name, a plea for him to touch me.

“Is there something you want, kitten?” He growls the question as my orgasm builds in my gut. The sizzling feeling spreads across my nerves when he hits my G-spot several times in a row.

“Please,” I can barely get the word out with his thrusts knocking the air from my lungs. “Oh, God, please.”

“I know you’re not asking God to make you come, Red.” He snarls, tightening his hold on my hair.

I can barely force my mouth to form the word I know he’s asking for. “No.”

“No, you aren’t. You’re begging to come on my cock, kitten,” his hips slam into me again, driving home his point. “And when you’re begging for my cock you’ll say my fucking name like the good little slut you are. Won’t you?”

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