Page 43 of By Sin To Atone

“Please. I?—”

I straighten, look down at her bent over the desk, one of my hands splayed between her shoulder blades to keep her down, the other weighing that ass cheek. I squeeze, hear her yelp before I let go of her cheek to spank her again. She cries out as the sound of flesh meeting flesh reverberates around the room and my dick is so fucking hard, it’s threatening to tear through my jeans. “Dangerous games have dangerous consequences, Blue. You’re going to learn that lesson hard.”

I slide the hand between her shoulder blades down to her lower back and press it into the desk, forcing her ass up, and I begin to rain down the spanking of her life.

13

Blue

Zeke keeps me pinned as he spanks my ass and thighs, never letting up as I struggle, not once showing mercy when I beg for it. He alternates between cheeks and delivers smack after smack until I’m whimpering, my knees turned to mush. He’s tireless and when I think I’ll die if he spanks me just once more, he stops.

The only sounds in the room are the crackling of wood in the fire, my whimpering, ragged breaths, my begging, and Zeke’s heavier breathing. I guess he exerted himself.

When the weight of his hand on my lower back lessens, I dare a glance, turning back over my shoulder to look at him. I’m expecting him to be gloating, a satisfied smirk on his face, but his eyes are dark, almost black, and locked on my ass.

His question repeats. Am I turned on? Do I want him to fuck me?

No. God. No. Of course not.

He blinks, shifts his gaze to meet mine and I swallow at the heat in his eyes.

“Stay,” he commands. Those moth wings begin to flutter inside my stomach and I close my eyes and obey. When he places his hands on my throbbing ass and splays me open, I grip the edges of the desk.

Two knuckles slide over my soft, punished curves and I close my eyes, my breath ragged as his fingers slide over my sex. His touch is light at first, and I’m not even sure it’s real or if I’m imagining it, but then fingers dip inside me and my breath shudders.

“Blue.”

I swallow. Can he hear me swallow?

He presses his fingers deeper but the instant he feels me stiffen, he stops.

“Blue?” He probes, testing. Sweat breaks out over my forehead. Surely, he can’t tell, can he? “Blue,” he repeats.

Nothing. I can’t move. Can’t speak. Can’t meet his gaze.

“Look at me.”

I shake my head.

“Blue. Open your eyes and look at me.”

It takes all I have but I do it, finally.

He holds my gaze, and he probes, and I’m up on tip toe, my legs stiff, every muscle tight. He tests my resistance, eyes confused? He cocks his head and pushes again and only stops when I let out a whimper.

His eyebrows furrow but he can’t feel the barrier, can he? He makes a sound I can’t quite decipher the meaning of. Only when he draws his fingers out can I breathe again. Am I relieved? I’m not sure. Because I feel the loss of the intrusion and I hear the sound of my own wetness. Which, why the fuck am I wet?

“Keep looking at me,” he says, and I do. I swallow again, my breathing coming in pants as he slides his fingers up to my asshole. Just like that first night. Except he doesn’t stop. He circles that tight opening, and I grip the sides of the desk so hard my nails must leave marks in the wood.

“Jesus. Please.” I close my eyes.

“No, that won’t do. I said look at me.”

I do, feeling my face burn as his fingers circle the tight ring of my ass.

“I want to be certain you understand something,” he says, voice hoarse.

He presses against the opening, and I almost climb on top of the desk in my effort to get away, but he closes his free hand over my hip and holds me in place, ass cheek splayed, and a moment later, I moan. I fucking moan as he pushes his finger inside me.

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