Page 13 of Red

A series of hard spanks concentrated on her thighs before he broke the cycle to speak. His words were controlled, much like his voice.

“If you ever raise so much as your voice to me again, you’ll be worse off than you are right now.” His hand cupped her ass cheek; the intimate sensation cut through the pulsing throb.

She clenched her eyes, not willing to see him, not willing to face what was happening to her. Spanked like a child throwing a fit.

“I had to do something,” she whispered when he kept quiet.

“You were doing something. You were waiting for me to come get you.” He didn’t let her continue but, instead, fell into another round of spanks, covering every inch of her ass and her thighs.

She grabbed for a pillow and buried her face into it, hiding her sobs and her humiliation as best she could.

Five more hard smacks to her right cheek then he stopped again, trailing his fingertips down the crack of her ass. She clenched, sucking in a breath. How much humiliation could he dole out in such a short span of time?

“Do you want to say something to me?” he asked softly. She’d expected anger, rage at her show of aggression, but she received only more control, more authority in response.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

He chuckled.

Her face heated. The lump in her throat kept her from saying anything more. Her attempt to hurt him had been thwarted with a flick of his hand, and when she spewed hatred, he laughed it off. More proof of his strength compared to her weakness.

She’d never seen herself as weak.

Not until she’d met him.

His fingers sank between her ass cheeks, touching her clenched asshole for a brief moment before sliding lower. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit down on the pillow.

He loosened his grip on her legs and shoved her right leg away, opening her body to him. His fingers continued their exploration, and he hummed when he brushed her sex.

Her wet, wanting sex.

“You may hate me, but your body doesn’t.” He glided his finger through her folds, gathering her own betrayal and rubbing it onto her thighs. “I bet, if I play with this little clit of yours, you’ll come for me.”

“No!” She shook her head. Not like this. She wouldn’t let him take her self-control like this.

The pad of one finger pressed down on her clit, and she clenched her teeth. They would break before she let out a satisfied moan.

He began to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves in a circle. Round and around, with more pressure, then less, then more. She tugged on her hand, but he held her arm firm against her back.

“You’re close,” he said softly. His fingers continued to dance, to work an orgasm from her body. No matter how much she tried to shut out what he was doing, her body continued to be played. He knew this song well and kept strumming to his own beat.

An orgasm loomed. She bit down on the pillow again, hoping for her body to explode and dreading the outcome at the same time.

“Such a sweet little pussy. I can see your thighs tightening; your cheeks are clenched. You want to come. You want to burst all over my finger, don’t you?”

“No!” She shook her head, but fuck she wanted to, needed to.

“If I do this…” His thumb slipped into her pussy, giving her enough sensation, her body began to shake, the dam was going to explode. Just one more little touch, a little flick, and she’d be flying.

“But bad girls don’t get to come.” He yanked his hand away from her sex, and, in the next second, he peppered her thighs and ass with another onslaught of spanks.

She screamed out, for the loss of the orgasm, for the pain he ignited, for the humiliation of being played so easily.

Finally giving over, she stopped fighting, stopped struggling. The spanks slowed to a stop.

“So red.” He brushed his fingers across her ass. She imagined how horrible she must have appeared. She’d be bruised for days.

In a graceful motion she hadn’t been prepared for, he swung her up to straddle his lap, her legs wrapped around his hips, her ass pressed uncomfortably against his legs. She didn’t miss the erection in his pants, or the aroma of her own arousal.

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