Page 29 of Obsession

Chapter Eleven

Forced Provocation

Tucker

The impromptu punishment was turning out to be more than he could have hoped for. He’d never intended to reprimand her again this way. Not now, at least. Sure, he’d hoped to feel the sting of his palm against her ass at some point, but it had never been part of his plan for that moment. He should be feeding her, should be taking care of her basic needs, yet there he was, sustaining them both in other more primal and satisfying ways.

“I suggest you take your punishment.” Taking aim, his hand rained new blows over her behind, ensuring he covered most of her soft flesh before dipping back to the place he sought the most.

She mewled at the strikes, but he noted how her whimpers morphed into throaty moans as his palm repeatedly collided with her pussy.

“Good girl.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her reaction. Apparently, his wildcat enjoyed having her cunt spanked, the growing wetness at his palm confirming the point.

She’s incredible.

He’d managed to strike gold when he’d agreed to take Ella, although he still couldn’t understand why he was so damn lucky.

Tucker had never prescribed to any religion, and his life experiences had regularly reinforced the idea that there was no justice under the sky. He’d seen good people thrown to the wolves, cut down by bullets, and lost to destitution, and the worst dregs of society raised up to be presidents, CEOs, and royalty, but even so, his sudden good fortune was illogical. Tucker wasn’t a good man, and he knew it. How was he worthy of the tempting woman before him?

“Oh!” Arching her back, she panted as the offensive continued. “Why is this so good?”

“It shouldn’t be ‘good,’ little girl.” He smirked at her titillating performance.

Ella was wonderful, and even though he chided her for being aroused by his penance, he was actually thrilled. What could be better than a sexy woman who enjoyed being denigrated? It was more than he could ever have hoped for. She was perfection.

“It’s supposed to hurt, remember?”

“It does, sir.” Her fingers clawed at the wood, though her binds made it difficult for her to grip on the way she had done before. “And this position is the worst. My back is killing me.”

“Excellent.” The sadist in him was overdue this encounter. It had been too long since he’d come out to play, but as his palm spanked her pussy over and over again, the sadist was happy to take the lead. “I want it to hurt.”

“Fuck.” Her feet inched toward the bed, presumably trying to alleviate the pressure on her lower back.

“I don’t think so, young lady.” His arm slipped under her hips, holding her in place while his hand continued to tan her. Her ass had turned a beautiful shade of fuchsia under his tutelage, but it was her sex that fascinated him the most. He couldn’t recall another woman who’d been so enthused at the treatment before. He’d initially intended it to cause her hell, yet it seemed she was instead edging closer to heaven. “You stay right here.”

“But my back, sir.” Her head fell at the plea, her hips jutting out, ready for more.

“Will surely endure a little more.” Christ, she was so fucking wet. He couldn’t wait to be inside her again. “In exchange for another orgasm?”

“I want that.” She groaned, turning to offer him a mischievous smile.

“I know.”

Something shifted in him as their gazes locked. Agreeing to hold her had always been about a financial arrangement between him and the spineless Bennett. That’s all Ella had been—all she should have been. Even when he’d inspired her climax after her most recent escape attempt, he hadn’t thought about more than only that moment of intimacy, those scintillating and protracted minutes of pleasure. Sure, he’d been happy to stroke and indulge her, but then he’d also stripped and bound her. The liberties he took were to protect his asset, just like the silk at her wrists did now.

Staring into her eyes at that moment proved something had altered. Now, it wasn’t only about provoking her excitement to stroke his own ego. He cared about her pleasure. He craved it.

“Be a good girl and suffer for me.” His palm paused, tingling at the recent impacts as his fingers ran along her asking seam. “Take what I have to offer and come apart for me.”

“I want to, sir.” Her voice was gloriously strained. “But my back?”

“I’ll hold you.” He flexed his left forearm, lifting her to the balls of her feet. “You concentrate on your orgasm.”

“Yes, sir.”

He caught a fleeting sight of the wicked gleam in her eyes before she turned back to the bed. Resisting the urge to dive his digits deep into her wet cunt again, he lifted his palm to begin the finale. His every sense told him it wouldn’t take too many more strikes to shove her straight over the precipice. Her deep, heaving breaths and beading nipples suggested how close she was. He longed for her orgasm, needed to witness her overwhelm before he plunged himself back into her.

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