Page 68 of Sin Bin Bully

The spanking continues, the pain mingling with an unbearable heat building inside me. I can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe my body is responding this way. Each touch, each spank, sends jolts of electricity through me, pushing me closer to a precipice I never expected to reach.

"Look at you, defiant and still so... responsive," he murmurs, almost to himself. His voice is a mix of frustration and something darker, more possessive. His fingers move with expertise, exploring and coaxing, until I’m teetering on the edge.

My breath comes in ragged gasps, my mind a chaotic whirlpool of shame and undeniable pleasure. The world narrows to the sensations he's eliciting, the building pressure that demands release.

“You don’t want to leave me Kim. Just be a good girl and submit.”

There’s nothing more I want to do than inflict as much pain on him as he has me with that fucking comment. But when hisfingers plunge so deep and curl just at the right angle to push me over the edge, I cry out, my body trembling with the force of my climax.

"That's my girl," he groans as I clench around him.

For a moment, everything is suspended in that intense, overwhelming release. Then, reality crashes back in, and I’m left panting over his knee, my face heated with a mix of mortification and lingering pleasure.

He lifts me gently until I'm sitting on his lap, his expression unreadable as he looks at me. The tension in the room hasn't dissipated—it has only evolved into something even more complicated.

"Now talk to me," he rumbles, his eyes roaming over my face.

But my head is too jumbled. I am too confused. I want this man more than I have wanted everything, and maybe he didn't pursue me the way most guys would have. But I'm starting to realize that if he would have, he wouldn't have been him.

I care about Sam. I do like the protection, the sense of ease and safety I've felt since he brought me here. I may say I don't have any freedom, but I've never breathed easier than since I've been here.

So he might have kidnapped me. He might have locked me in rooms and made me bend to him. But he's right about one thing.

I'm his.

And he had to make me see that.

Or I never would have gotten past my own life. I would have ran far from him, always keeping to myself, and knowing what I do now, it would have been a colossal mistake.

I'm not sure I even regret any of it.

And with that confusing swirl of emotion and thought, with the way his eyes watch me, his hands expertly roam my body in comfort, the way I fit so perfectly next to him, and this all feels so right…

I know there is only one thing I need right now. And I finally talk to him for the first time in days.

"Fuck me."

31

SAM

Sam

Kim's eyes meet mine, and I see it all—the confusion, the fear, the defiance. She's a mess of emotions, and it's written all over her face. I'm pissed, terrified, but above all, I understand. She needs this. She needs to remember why we're here, why she's mine.

I don't say a word. I just act. My hand reaches up, tangling in her hair, pulling her close. Her breath hitches, but she doesn't resist. Our lips meet, and it's not gentle. It's a claim, a reminder. Her hands find their way to my hair, gripping tight, and her legs straddle mine. She's right where she belongs.

Her lips part, and I dive in, tasting her, exploring her. She tastes like sin and salvation, and I can't get enough. Her body presses against mine, and I can feel her heart racing, or maybe it's mine. It doesn't matter. We're in sync, our bodies moving together like they were made for this.

I pull back just enough to look into her eyes. They're glazed over, filled with desire and something else—a spark that tells me it's helping clear the fog of confusion. Of indecision. Thisreminds her exactly of why she didn't leave when I gave her the option, of why she really wants to say.

Because nothing has ever felt more perfect than the two of us.

"Sam," she whispers, her voice barely audible. It's a plea, a question, a statement all rolled into one.

"I've got you, little dancer," I murmur, my voice rough with emotion. "I've got you, and I'm not letting go."

And this time, my words seem to calm her.

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