Page 33 of Unwillingly His

“Watch me,” he said with a dark laugh before he slapped my ass again. The sharp sting sent a shock of pleasure up my spine, and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from groaning.

I hated how much I loved the way that made me feel.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I cried, trying to kick harder until he moved his arm from the back of my thigh down to my ankles, making it impossible for me to kick and also, at the same time, making me feel very unsteady on his shoulder.

I had to grab the sides of his suit jacket to keep from falling.

“Because you like it,” he growled. “Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

“No, let me go.” I said the words that I knew I should say, even if it wasn’t the way I felt.

Disgust, revulsion, and hatred should have been burning their way through my veins. Instead, it was something much different giving me this incredible warmth. I didn’t want to name it.

If I named what I was feeling, then there was no way I could lie to myself about it.

It may have been denial, but I was going to hold on to it with everything I had.

“You want me to let you go? Fine.” He pulled me from his shoulder and threw me on a large bed with a firm mattress and the most incredibly thick goose-down comforter I have ever been on.

Before I could get up, he grabbed my ankles, pulled me across the black duvet towards him, and pulled off my shoes, tossing them to the other side of the room.

“You can’t do this,” I said again. I felt stupid repeating the same things over and over, like somehow it was going to change something. I knew it wouldn’t.

Deep down, I didn’t want it to change anything.

This was going to happen.

I knew this was going to happen.

I wanted this to happen.

I just didn’t want to want it to happen.

“I’ll make you a deal, baby girl. If I pull down your tights and your little pussy isn’t dripping wet for me, begging for my cock, then I’ll let you go. I’ll set you up in one of the spare rooms, and I’ll let you stay there unbothered.”

“What?” There was no way he meant that. He couldn’t have meant that.

“No? You don’t want to take our wager? Is that because you’re as wet as I think you are?”

“Let me go,” I said again.

“Sure, if your pussy is dry, and your body isn’t begging for release, then absolutely.”

He didn’t wait any longer.

He reached under my skirt, grabbed the top of my tights, and ripped them off.

“Please,” I said. “Don’t.” I couldn’t remember why I was fighting him.

The way his hands ran from my ankle up my thighs, leaving the most delicious trail of heat, I didn’t want him to stop.

I wanted him to make all of me burn, to chase away the cold, and banish it. I wanted to feel warm and alive again. His touch made me feel that.

“All in due time, baby girl.” He grabbed the center of my favorite pair of La Perla panties and ripped them off, tossing the expensive black silk on the growing pile of my clothes.

My new monthly allowance couldn’t even replace those!

“Last chance, tell me you want it. I’ll be gentle and teach you how to ride my cock like a good little girl. Or lie to me, and I’ll fuck you like a bad girl. Which will it be?”

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