Page 63 of A Pawn in the Game
“Got it?”
“Yes. Yes. Please.”
I release her flesh, inhaling deeply before a snap crackles in the air and I see the trace of my hand on her skin.
I spanked her. Dread fills me for a second, but she pushes her ass back, pleading, “More.”
So I do it again. Other cheek this time. She lets out a whimper. And I do it again.
It’s not the first time I’ve spanked someone in the throes of passion, but it’s the first time someone begged me to ease her pain. I know it should help, in theory, but I’m still apprehensive about pushing her further than she’s ready.
Sophie cries out after a particularly rough smack, and I pause. Red marks adorn her ass, making me wonder if I took it too far.
The wait feels like eternity, but then she whispers, “More, please.” Her voice sounds broken, but her words are clear.
This time, as my palm connects with her skin, she lets out a feral moan. One that can’t be confused with pain. The sound shoots straight to my dick. He’s now at full mast, obviously unbothered by the uncertainty crawling through my head.
Another smack, another moan. My hands itch, and my cock pulses, as the doubts clear from my head, her crimson flesh acting like red to a bull.
And as the bathroom lights hits her pussy just at the right angle for me to see she’s fucking dripping, my will power breaks, any remnants of gentleness evaporating.
CHAPTER 31
Sophie
Red-hot pain shoots through me as his large palm lands on the soft skin of my ass. Warmth travels my body, replacing any other sensation I had. Pleasure coils deep in my core as soon as the initial shock of the pain subsides.
He reaches his fingers, swiping them over my center and the pleasure overflows.
“Aaah,” I breathe out. He barely touched my pussy, but it’s so fucking sensitive.
“Look at you. Making a mess of these sheets.” His head drops to my back, placing small kisses over my spine. Goosebumps prickle my skin. “I thought you wanted me to hurt you.” He emphasizes his words with another smack, knocking the breath out of me. “But it seems like this is bringing you more pleasure than pain.”
I know. It doesn’t make sense. But all my synapses are firing with the burn of my ass and the pressure in my core, none of them left to make sense of this. I don’t respond, so he continues spanking me.
My arms almost give out, so I drop to my elbows, exposing my ass even more. He continues spanking me and my mind slips outof focus. Unable to hold on any longer, I whisper, “Luka, I need you.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. He turns me on my back, the touch of the sheets worsening the burn. Lifting my knee high, he uses his hand to guide his cock into me. I’m so fucking wet, it doesn’t hurt in the least, but there’s still the delicious feeling of his thickness stretching me.
“Fuck, Sophie,” he groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He shakes his head in disbelief before lowering it to mine. Our lips connect as he starts his slow and shallow thrusts to make me get used to him. A hand snakes to my face, holding my jaw as he kisses me. Suddenly, his movement stops and his head lifts.
“You’re crying. I don’t want to see you cry,mila.”Mila.
I don’t speak Croatian, but in Russian,milameansdear.My breath hitches. “I feel better.” My voice comes out rushed. “You made me feel better.”
On a groan, he lowers his lips back to mine and buries himself deep inside of me. My back arches off the bed. He feels incredible, but I don’t want gentle. I need him to flood me with sensations. I bite hard into his lip, and he growls before quickening his thrusts. They turn deep, and ruthless, and punishing. My whole body feels like it’s on fire. The burn of my tortured ass rubbing on the sheets, the burn of his cock within the deepest parts of me, and the burn of his hand roughly holding my knee up to my shoulder. Not a single thought crosses my mind, the once-crowded halls finally empty.
I’m a pile of flesh underneath him. A pile of flesh dying for his touch. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him closer, and he sinks to me, drowning me with his weight. It’s perfect.
My eyes catch on his tattoos, on the flex of his trapezius muscles, the sharp angle of his jaw. I meet the darkness of his eyes, stopping my gaze on his floppy hair. Five things I can see. My hands travel the scruff on his face, his large arms, defined abs, landing on the muscular planes of his ass. Four things I can touch. I hear his moans, grunts, and groans. Three things I can hear. Ibury my face in his neck, inhaling deeply, sensing the faint tobacco and musk. Two things I can smell. I lick the salty sweat off his skin. One thing I can taste.
My brain started the exercise reflexively, overwhelmed by Luka. He’s everywhere, and it’s hard to discern where he ends, and I begin. But unlike other times, where I wanted the feeling to disappear, I never want this to stop. I want it engraved into my mind and body, remembering it for eternity.
Every detail of this perfect moment where my body is on fire and my mind is peaceful.
“You feel so fucking good,” Luka groans. “I can’t hold on any longer.”
“Then don’t,” I respond.
