Page 48 of Heston
A handsome smile covered his face. “You noticed? Good. Now count to ten like you used to.”
She nodded, keeping eye contact. With every tortured breath, her breasts heaved as if they wanted him looking at them. Just them. Naughty, naked girls.
“The rain’s running down your back and between your butt cheeks,” he told her, his gaze zeroed on her ass.
“I’m so wet. For you, Hes. Only ever for you.” He needed to know that.
“Fuck, yes, you’re dripping.” With that heady innuendo, Heston jacked forward and pushed that magnificent spike of his into her slippery folds. Not teasing. Not hinting. Just a wicked thrust that came with throbbing veins and power.
The impact forced a purr from her throat. Maybe even from her vagina.
“One,” she whispered as he withdrew with aching slowness. Missing the heat of him, she arched farther back to keep him in place. Wanting more of him. Daring him to shove that thick, hard weapon back into her greedy sheath where it belonged.
“You like this,” his deep baritone rumbled.
“I do.”
“Eyes on me, babe,” he ordered as he—oomph!—slammed in deep again.
A breathy, “Two,” sighed out of her. London blinked through the raindrops running over her face, then swiped the window clean again, needing to watch the fierce expressions on his face as she counted. His eyes had turned dark and hungry. He took sex seriously, like he was on a mission. His muscular,hair-roughened thighs bunched against her hamstrings. His thumbnails dug deeper. The muscles in his back coiled and—
“Three,” she wheezed, trying to hold back. Needing to come, but not without Heston.
“Don’t you dare,” he growled, the stiff, crisp hairs on the sides of his knees abrading the insides of her thighs.
“Then hurry.”
He hurried.Oomph.“God, that feels so good.”
Another hearty slap stung her ass. “I mean… f-f-four!”
He pounded into her again.
“Five!”
Then a slippery quick, “Six!”
A smoking hot, “Seven!”
Her feverish body matched the brutal pace he set. She fell in love with the sounds of his muscles smacking against her flesh.
“You’d like a good spanking, wouldn’t you? You like it when I’m in charge.” He shoved in deeper, grinding into her.
She stared him down in the window. London was on her toes by then, braced for that quintessential more. “Yes, Heston. I love you like this. And a good spanking… Hmmm.” The naughty idea made her wiggle. “Yeah. I’d like that. With you.”
No sooner whispered, when a solid slap landed on her buttocks and, “Eight!” screamed out of her.
Without pulling all the way out, he slammed deeper and ordered, “Tell me again.”
“I’d love it. I love you. Anything you do is okay with me. Nine!”
Heston buried his forehead between her shoulder blades and rasped, “What comes next, baby girl? Tell me. Say what comes next or I’ll blister your ass.”
“M-m-me,” she squealed, pushing backward into his pelvis, needing him inside so badly that tears filled her eyes. She’d never been anyone else’s baby girl before. Hell, she’d never beenanyone else’s anything. Had never been disciplined or spanked. No one in her life had ever loved her enough to draw a hard line.
But the thought of Heston bending her over his knee and delivering a no-kidding spanking sounded incredibly naughty. Her nipples were so hard, they ached. Her ass begged for another gentle smack—just because Heston would be the one delivering it.
“What number?” he snapped. Grunting like the powerful beast he was, Heston bucked one last, bone-grinding time and—
