Page 109 of Unhinged

"I do owe you a spanking, don’t I?" I murmur.

A wicked little smirk. A slow, deliberate nod. "I think you do…Daddy."

Oh, I like the brat.

I like the brata lot.

I spank her, my palm curving as it slaps across her ass perfectly.

Jesus, that feels good.

"Say it again."

"Say what,Daddy?" Her voice is all tease, all temptation. "Is that what you want? Is that why you fed me in bed and took care of me?"

I spank her again, harder this time, my handprint marking her perfect ass. "You kinky little witch."

She moans and writhes, grinding against my fingers.

"Fuck me, Daddy. Please."

"I told you. Not yet." I rub slow, teasing circles over her clit. "That doesn't mean you can't come, baby. Here. Open up for Daddy."

Jesusfuck,I can’t believe I just said that. I can’t believe how fucking hard it made me.

I stroke her, sliding my fingers deep inside her, and she moans, her hips rocking desperately against my hand.

Fuck a week, might as well be an eternity.

I squeeze her nipples, circling her clit as she takes all of it, her body trembling beneath me.

"I'm so turned on," she gasps. "I can't let go. I can't… I’m all tense."

I spank her again.

"Are you trying to rush me?" My voice drops, turning lethal. "Who said we're on a timeframe?"

I lean down, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the red handprint on her ass. She shivers.

I love that reaction.

She moans and rides my fingers, but I slow down, taking my time because I know what she needs.

I lay her on her back, and her eyes go wide as I wrap my hand around her throat. I flex just enough for her to gasp while I pump my fingers inside her.

Her hips lift off the bed, begging.

I press my fingertips into her neck, her pulse racing under my hand.

I stroke her clit, bend down, and bite her nipple.

With a strangled cry, she comes.Hard.

Her back arches off the bed, and I don't stop. I keep stroking, teasing, watching the way she writhes beneath me, lost in pleasure.

Jesus, she’s beautiful when she comes like this.

And I am hard as fuck.

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