Page 32 of Burn for Me

My thighs quivered as he strode toward me, my heart leaping into my chest. I glanced at the door, but there was no way I could get to it without him intercepting me. Panic rose with every inch closer he came.

Fuck, what was he going to do?

The chair scraped as I backed up, the wall quickly pressing against my spine. There was a devil in his gaze as he came close. Not anger, but something more wicked.

‘I’m sorry,’ I muttered, swallowing hard as he closed the space between us. I wasn’t, but I hoped it was what he needed to hear.

I flinched as he lifted a hand, but he placed a scarred finger tip on my chest and wrote in slow, steady strokes.

YOU WILL BE

I let out a squeal as he slid his hand up into the back of my hair and used the leverage to pull me forward and roughly bend me over the kitchen table. Strawberry shake squelched beneath my stomach and chest as he pinned me there.

‘I’m sorry. Please?’

My pleas fell on deaf ears. Was he going to fuck me? I’d been expecting it every time he was close to me, but so far he’d refrained, even after I made the bargain with him. Maybe I’d finally pushed him too far. I sent a prayer to whatever gods were listening that it would be quick. That he’d be so unused to sex it would be a three stroke and out affair.

I sobbed as he pulled my leggings and underpants down with his free hand. I waited for his intrusion. A minute passed with the table jutting into my hips and my hair held roughly between his fingers.

Nothing.

My breaths shuddered against the shake covered woodas the cool morning air whispered against my exposed pussy, making my cheeks burn. Was I wet?

Casting the idea from my mind as absurd, I sank back into anger. Why didn’t he just do it? Just get it over with.

‘Just do it,’ I whispered, screwing my eyes shut.

A garbled chuckle sounded. I pursed my lips at the noise. He was finding this funny. What a fucking douche.

I jumped, jarring my hips against the table, when his finger ran over my ass. I had to concentrate on every stroke to figure out what he was writing.

BRATS GET SPANKED

Indignation swept over me.

‘I’m not a fucking brat, I’m just sick of your stupid bloody shakes.’

A heavy slap landed on my right ass cheek, a wave of heat following the sharp pain.

‘Get off,’ I screamed, but his firm hold on my hair stopped me from escaping his grasp.

Another spank followed swiftly, stealing my breath. The painful smacks brought tears to my eyes and fire to my ass.

A few more swats had me writhing against the table, struggling against the mounting pain. It burned like the sun had been buried beneath the skin, angry heat radiating from each mark his hands surely made.

‘I’m sorry,’ I bubbled, snot mingling with tears and the pieces of my hair which escaped his grasp.

I DON’T BELIEVE YOU

It took every piece of concentration to decipher his letters against my throbbing arse cheeks.

‘I am. I’m so sorry. Please, it hurts.’

What hurt more was the awareness of his warm thighpressed against my leg, the hardness in his trousers grazing against my hip. The fact that deep down, beneath the rage, something altogether more worrying was brewing. The fact that I knew if he slipped his fingers beneath me, I’d be unable to fight the desire pooling there.

I’d never been spanked, and Phoenix was alighting something inside me that I couldn’t ignore.

When another hard swat sent pain whisking through me, I couldn’t hold back a desperate little moan. Another spank brought my hip crashing against his hard dick, and I wondered how it would feel filling me. Shame filled me and fought head to head with the lust that his actions wrought.

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