Page 31 of Black Light: The Crossover
“Please sir, can I get up?” So much more respectful.
“Not yet,” he answered, taking a sip of the water as he met her in front of the couch again. “Drink.”
“No way! I already have to pee!”
Shaking his head, Lukus stared down at the blonde waves, wondering if any of his staff would believe this was his sex life now. “All the more reason to hydrate. You’ll make such fun noises when I fuck you in a minute.”
“Iknewyou just did this for sex!”
With a fistful of her hair in his hand, Lukus angled her head back until he could rest the water glass just below her mouth. “No, baby. I just gave you what you needed, and now I’m going to take what I need. And right now, you’re going to be a good girl for me and drink some of this water.”
“But—”
“One,” he started counting, earning Tiffany’s best attempt at a deathglare, so he added, “Two.”
That tiny wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows, and he tilted the glass until the water was dangerously close to spilling on the couch, and he wouldn’t be the one cleaning it up.
“If I get to three, Tiff, I’m getting the butt plug and driving it home with a few more paddle swats before I fuck you.” Tapping the glass against her pouting bottom lip, he grinned. “Your choice.”
She opened her mouth, probably to say something sassy, but he poured the water in instead. It was probably the sadist in him that enjoyed the brief way she choked before she managed to swallow the first sip — and it was definitely his sadistic side that made her finish half the glass even though her bladder was already pressed against the back of the couch.
“Such a good girl,” he cooed, swiping an errant drop off her mouth before he set the water down.
“You have a strange style of aftercare today. Sir,” she mumbled, a little less mouthy, and he figured the heat from the paddle was finally setting in, making her warm in more than just her ass.
“Just keeping you on your toes.”
“I can’t feel my toes!”
Yanking her head back up by her hair, Lukus used his hardass Dom glare and kept his tone even. “Are you telling me you actually can’t feel your toes, which means I should have heard a ‘yellow’ by now, or are you being a naughty brat?”
Tiffany gulped. “Neither?”
“Bad answer.” Dropping her hair, Lukus popped the button on his jeans before he’d even rounded the side of the couch. His zipper was down as he caught sight of her welts, and he let out a groan as he shoved his boxers out of the way to grip his cock. “If you want to come, you’re going to have to beg for it, baby.”
“Sir!”
“Shh, all I want to hear is you moaning, or begging to come.” Swiping his fingers through her soaked pussy, he chuckled. “Look at that, this pussy is already dripping. Maybe someone needs a new paddle as a late Christmas present?”
“Please, Lukus!”
He teased her entrance with the head of his cock, leaning over her until he could wrap one hand around her throat and quiet her down. “Already begging to come?”
“No, I—”
“Then I don’t want to hear it.” It didn’t take much of a squeeze to cut off her next protest, and it instantly turned into a moan as he slid inside her. “Fuck you’re wet.”
The buzz of her moan against his palm was almost as good as hearing it out loud, and he took his time sinking into Tiffany’s tight heat, waiting until he felt the glowing pink of her ass against his skin before he eased back.
“This could be how I handle you...” he groaned as he thrust forward a little faster. “When you get stressed... if you could just control your mouth.”
With his cock inside her, and his hand around her throat, Tiff wasn’t even trying to be a smart ass anymore, which he probably should have catalogued in his mind somewhere for future reference, but she took that moment to press her hips back against him and he lost track of his thoughts.
“Did you want to ask for something?” It was a taunt, punctuated by another agonizingly slow thrust, and he held himself deep, pressing her into the couch as she whined.
“Sir…”
“Yes, baby?”
