Page 66 of Princess of Hawthorne Prep

Satisfied with my response, he presses his lips to my pussy. Just as I flex my hips, wanting to get closer, he pulls away and strokes the towel over my center a few more times before moving on to my legs.

Once every last drop of moisture has been wiped away, he spins me around until I’m facing the tub. The thick cotton slides from the top of my thighs, down my calves to my ankles and then back up again.

He is nothing if not thorough.

My skin is rosy and over-sensitized from his careful ministrations.

Just when I think he’ll rise to his feet and make good on his earlier promise, he instructs, “Bend over and grab the edge of the tub.”

I blink, thrown off by the request. “What?”

He swats my ass. “You heard me the first time. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

When I don’t immediately comply, he smacks the other cheek harder, making it sting until I’m flooded with awareness.

“Now, Delilah.”

My body trembles as need continues to build as I lean forward and wrap my fingers around the porcelain rim. Even though I’m staring at the picture window that overlooks the vastness of the lake, movement catches the corner of my eye and I turn my head until I’m able to view him in the mirror.

The way Austin squats behind me puts him eyelevel with my upturned backside. My face heats at the realization that he’s staring at my ass, inspecting a taboo place no one ever has. I nearly jump out of my skin when he runs the plush fabric across the cleft that divides my cheeks. Back and forth he strokes, carefully dragging the material across my rosebud.

My teeth pin my lower lip in place. I never realized that something like this could be pleasurable. It’s a shocking discovery. Air slowly leaks from my lungs when the towel finally disappears. I’m filled with a strange concoction of relief edged with disappointment. The emotions war with one another but there is no clear victor. Just as I’m about to straighten, his palms settle over my cheeks, massaging them. I can’t help but shift, enjoying the touch but still self-conscious about his proximity to that secret part of me.

“Stop squirming,” he warns, fingers sinking into the flesh.

If he’s aware of my embarrassment, he brushes it aside and ignores it. Even though it feels amazing, nerves claw at me, looking for an escape. There’s no way he doesn’t see every single delicate inch of me.

What I don’t understand is how something so wrong can feel so damn right.

It’s become a common theme with Austin.

His touch feels so good but leaves me questioning whether or not it should. It would be easier if I could force the doubts from my mind and simply enjoy the way he plays with my body.

“Austin,” I squeak, shame rushing through me.

It’s not just his insistent caresses that make me feel this way but how much I secretly enjoy what he’s doing. How he takes control and touches a place that’s always been forbidden.

He releases one cheek long enough to give the flesh a resounding whack. It’s not hard enough to cause pain or damage, just enough to have pleasure exploding inside me like a firework.

“This belongs to me. Be still and let me look at you.”

My mind cartwheels as he pulls at my rounded flesh again, separating the globes. The cool air of the room rushes over me.

“Arch your back,” he commands.

The deep cadence of his voice scampers along my spine.

It’s not even a consideration to deny the instruction. I understand what will happen if I don’t. In the end, he’ll bend me to his will and take what he wants.

In the far recesses of my mind, I understand that if I truly wanted to put an end to this exploration, I could. That silent realization tells me everything I need to know about this situation. It forces me to mentally come to terms with my own secret wants and desires. Even if they make me uncomfortable and I’d prefer not to acknowledge them.

Instead of arguing, I bow my spine, raising my ass higher in the air.

“So fucking beautiful,” he groans, sharp teeth scraping across the curve of my flesh.

A million little shivers slide through me before settling in my core as arousal drips down my bare thighs.

One hand tugs at my cheek as his other strokes over the tightly puckered muscle. A mixture of shock and arousal crashes over me like a tidal wave, and in that moment, it feels like I’m drowning all over again.

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