Page 82 of Bought
Weak, weak girl. I need to get my clothes, leave, and put an end to this madness.
I can’t.
Don’t even want to.
Instead, I lay over his lap and tremble with anticipation.
He drags his calloused hand over the curve of my ass. He raises his hand in the air, making me clench with nerves. His hand comes down, sharp and stinging. I bite my lip to hide the moan, but it still comes.
He gives me another spank, the bottom curve of my right cheek, then my left. That sensitive area where the tops of my thighs meet my ass. The tingling sensation travels between my legs, a wet heat pooling there.
With his two fingers crawling down the cleft of my ass, I tense. He’s headed to that spot he earlier explored. I shift my weight over his lap, wanting to get away. His hardness presses into my belly, and knowing I turn him on makes me even wetter.
Then he asks the question that has loomed between us, heavy like an impending meteor about to destroy us both.
“When Cass was at university, Bambi came as an exchange student. She was fun and funny, and they got along. They’ve always kept in touch.”
“Then?” he smooths his hand over my ass. I hesitate. He spanks. Hard enough to take my breath away.
I hiss, stammering, “Then—then we got in trouble back home…”
Another volley of spanks tells me it’s not a request. It’s a command. He will make me tell him everything.
But I can’t.
I shake my head, looking down at the ground as I hang over his lap. It feels strange to confess in this position, but I’m too far gone to care. “We had to get out of England, and since Bambi and Cass stayed close, Cass contacted her and asked if the three of us could crash. Her gran had just passed away. She was sad and lonely and had an extra bedroom.”
“Win-win,” he mutters.
For everyone but him.
I feel lighter now that I've shared part of my story. I no longer need his harshness to push me. “We had enough money for the flights, but nothing more. She fed us, sheltered us, and helped with Ryan. I took every job I could find on my visa, like bartending and bottle service, and I gave all my earnings to Bambi for household costs. Thanks to you, I was able to pay her back and stop working while I look for a real job?—”
“That’s all real nice.” He moves in quietly and purposefully.
I feel the heat and anger radiating off him as he leans over me, chest pressed against my back, too close. I can’t breathe as the low growl of his demand caresses my ear, “But what about the part where you’re living with the sister of a man who blew up my family’s entire world here in the city?”
I freeze. Self-loathing flows through me, hot and sticky. I want to tell him everything, and I will.
But not like this.
I want to tell him on my own terms, not with him forcing the truth from me. I want to see his face when I tell him. I’ll makesure Mack takes Cass and Ryan home in the van, then he can drive me home.
I’m pretty sure there’s an extra Porsche at Blaze’s place, or he can take us to get the Cabriolet.
Then, when the fire is out and the embers have settled, and we’re driving, I’ll tell him.
Everything.
Then I’ll have him take me home.
And I’ll watch him drive away.
He’ll never want to see me again.
He’s decided that enough time has passed, and he drops his hand, peppering my skin. “Answer me.”
“Stop!” I shout before he can reach his destination, exposing my vulnerability. “Stop. Please.”
