Page 152 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

“Only if I get one punishment and not two for taunting you,” I bargain and love how he tightens his hold on my neck.

“You love pushing my buttons but hate enduring the consequences, baby girl,” he growls. Suddenly, I’m pressed against him, his free hand now cupping my ass.

I can barely stay still, my body shaking for what’s to come, and my pussy clenching impatiently for that spike of pain mixed with tantalizing pleasure.

“Should I start calling you a brat?” He rubs at my ass, and I know he’s ready to spank it.

“No, Dadd—” My words are cut off by the sounds of his hand hitting my backside, the sound echoing with my pitched gasp.

“Then you’re going to behave,” he orders and rubs the sore spot that’s surely blushing. “Or else you’re going to bend over and thank me as I spank you again and again until your bottom is splintering red, you hear?”

“Y-Yes,” I fight not to moan, but it sounds no different from the sultry sound.

“Remember, we have an audience,” he reminds me.

I’m glancing to the side to see the way Damien is grinning with that hungry gaze that makes my stomach coil with need.

He’s turned on by this.

I’m living out my naughty fantasy, and we’re not even naked yet.

“Off, Mikayla.”

I know that’s my final warning, so I wait for him to release me before I strip out of the jersey to reveal my naked body.

The way Damien takes a breath has me wondering if he likes what he sees, but my attention is stolen by the thief before me as the jersey is stripped from my possession and casually tossed into the fireplace behind me. I turn my head in time to see it land on the pile of wood, confirming that this fireplace was legit and not those electric ones you see on lavish Hollywood shows.

“Y-You actually burned it.” It genuinely surprises me because I didn’t think he’d do it.

I’m not only back in his grasp, but I feel his hardness press against my stomach. My O’Riley is hard as stone, and I don’t think I can stop myself from begging for his cock.

I don’t get the chance because he has me up in the air.

My legs search for stability, hooking around his waist, a lifeline in a situation like this, but things get wilder—or more dangerous—when he presses me against the wall just above the fireplace.

I can feel the intense heat rising from below and grazing my dripping cunt while the engraved marble design digs into my bare back.

“You’re questioning your Daddy’s decisions?” He snarls and… fuck.

I’ve awakened my possessive O’Riley.

“You’re just asking for me to punish you,” he insists, and I can’t even think of what he’ll do in this position. “My girl suddenly wants to be a brat with company. Why doesn’t he come over and pinch those hard nipples of yours?”

No way.

My eyes widen because I can’t fathom this happening.

This is really happening.

I sense Damien’s presence before my eyes can catch up in action, but I don’t need to see him to confirm he’s following O’Riley’s instructions.

The pinch of my nipples does plenty.

I moan and quiver at the pleasure. Having all these senses hit at once drives me crazy—the heat of the fireplace, the uneven surface of the marble behind me, Damien pinching my nipples—and now I’m enduring the icing on the cake.

My Daddy’s pierced cock rubbed along the folds of my dripping pussy.

“You think it’s okay to wear your rival’s jersey when you’re with your Daddy?” Maddox heaves, and I feel it’s taking him everything not to plunge into me. “You wore the wrong fucking jersey, baby girl. You won’t behave until I have you screaming my name, huh?”

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