Tempted by a Dangerous Man (11 page)

Abruptly, he stopped, pushed me off of his lap, guided me to the floor. My remaining shoe slipped off. I was on my hands and knees, and I stayed there, my back swayed, hips and ass high. Now he would unzip his pants, take out his cock and slowly pump it into me. Or maybe he’d do it quickly. I didn’t care which, so long as he fucked me.

“Go get the brush,” he ordered. And he really didn’t sound like he was playing.

I glanced up at his glowering face. “Your hair is fine,” I said. “I’d do you.”

His response was a slowly raised eyebrow.

I had to be careful. If I pushed him too far, he wouldn’t fuck me at all. I’d tested that a few times, and Corbin didn’t seem to mind depriving himself… so long as I suffered even more. What I didn’t know about men and relationships would fill a library, but I suspected it wasn’t typical behavior for a man.

Repressing a sigh, I started to pull myself to my feet. Corbin forced my shoulders down again. Even after so much time together, I was still surprised at his strength. “Crawl,” he said. “And fetch it in your mouth.”

“Fetch? I’m not a dog.” Annoyed, I yanked up my panties and knelt up, but Corbin pushed me back into the position he wanted—but not before I got an eyeful of the considerable tenting in his pants.

“You’ll want to be fast,” he said. And he looked… happy. Hopeful.
 

I shuddered. Whatever creative punishment he had dreamed up, I planned to avoid it.
 

On the plus side, the gorgeous carpet was even lovelier up close, and it was soft and padded. If I had to crawl around, at least I got to do it in style. I found the brush, grabbed it and put it between my teeth, then crawled back to Corbin, who had washed his hands in the bathroom and returned.

By the time I reached him, I’d lost most of my sense of humor about things. It didn’t help that carrying the brush had made me drool, and I felt stupid.

“Good,” Corbin said, taking it from my mouth. “I see that your pussy isn’t the only thing dripping wet.”

He straightened, undid his pants and let them pool around his ankles. I refused to give him the satisfaction of sneaking a glance up, but when his underwear joined the pile and he kicked them away, I quickly peeked.

Mouthwatering. Full and hard. I wanted to lick his balls. He had explored my body far more extensively than I had his. I needed to dedicate a week to learning all the ways of touching and sucking him. My tongue moistened my lips.

And the damned bastard saw. I shrugged a little and ducked my head in a belated attempt to hide my nervous smile.

“Stand,” he said.
 

I rose gratefully and brushed off my knees and palms.
 

“Bend over.”

I propped my hands on my thighs, pushed my ass out.

“Instead of pleasuring you, I find myself punishing you. Again.” He touched his finger to my lower back, and I flinched, startled. “I’m a patient man,” he continued. “Happy to oversee your training.”

“For my own good, of course,” I said.

He slowly rolled my panties down to my thighs. “Of course. Please count.” His hand rubbed a loose circle on my lower back, and then the flat paddle of the brush slammed against my ass, catching it on an upswing and making it jiggle.
 

“One!”
 

“Please keep quiet. We don’t want to alarm anyone.”

“Then don’t hit me so hard,” I grumbled. My flesh stung, and the heat from the strike had spread out, sending tingles to areas of my body that had no business being affected.

“Arch your back. Head up.”

I did it, but not happily. For my trouble, I received a second smack with the brush. “Two,” I gritted out.
 

“They’re going to come faster now, baby.” Corbin spanked me again, much harder than before, but then his hand quickly followed after, a chaser, soothing away the punishment’s bite.
 

“Three. Four. Five.” I could barely catch my breath. Tears came to my eyes, and I bet my face was probably as red as my ass. “Six.”

“Slide two fingers into your pussy.”

Surprised that he would allow me to touch myself, I cast a glance over my shoulder, then I quickly pressed the index and middle fingers of my right hand deep into my slick wetness.

My pussy immediately squeezed around my fingers. I slowly began to fuck myself.

“No,” Corbin said. He leaned over me, bit my neck. I arched my back more, my body wanting to submit fully to him. “No masturbating. Fingers in your pussy so that they don’t get in my way. Not so that you can get off,” he said. “Put your other hand over your clit. And if you masturbate, I’m going to add to your punishment.”

I placed my left hand on my clit, felt the tiny nub.
 

Thwack.
“Seven!” I yelped. The blow had caught me off-guard.

Corbin made a disappointed noise. “I didn’t want to have to gag you, but it seems like I need to.”

“But there’s no one around,” I said.

“Someone could be walking under the window.”
 

“At this time of night?”

He pulled my panties the rest of the way down. After I stepped out of them, he balled them up and stuffed them into my mouth.

I could taste myself, taste my own excitement.
 

Thwack.
“Eight,” I tried to say. But of course I couldn’t.
 

And the spanking only grew in intensity. Even through the humiliation and pain, I realized that the harder he spanked me, the more my pussy clenched.
 

He slapped the brush against my ass twice more, then eased my fingers away from my dripping sex. I felt his cock take up the position, the bulbous head nudging my folds, pressing forward. Corbin must have taken himself in hand because then he was properly positioned.

I started to spit out the gag.
 

“Leave it,” Corbin said, and I dropped my hand. “You’ve got me all worked up tonight, and I want to fuck you hard.” The brush landed on the bed, well out of my reach.

He thrust forward a little, then wrapped his large hands around my waist and drove deep, slamming into me and practically knocking me off my feet. His masculine groan of pleasure hung in the otherwise quiet room.

He pulled back, and I could hear how wet I was. “Yeah,” he moaned. “Oh, yeah.” He held me steady and drilled into my pussy, bouncing the backs of my thighs off the front of his.

I felt like a sex toy yo-yo, violently shoved away, then yanked back, starting the excruciating process from the beginning again. Corbin fucked me
hard.
He hadn’t exaggerated about that, and when he repositioned his hands on my hips, I put my hands over his in a wordless plea for mercy.

Though if mercy was what I truly wanted, I knew the hand signal for it.

Instead, I felt Corbin’s grip tighten on me. I could feel that he was breathing heavily, panting. Oh, his cock felt amazing in me, so hard, so relentless. Demanding and insatiable.

Corbin was a man who knew how he liked his sex, and he knew how to take it, too.
 

Just when I thought I couldn’t stand any more, he hooked his arms around my chest and waist, lifted me up off the floor, and carried me forward to the bed. With each step, I bounced on his cock. Gently, he lowered me facedown onto the soft sheets.
 

The torture brush was just next to me, and I watched in horror as he picked it up.

I shook my head emphatically, signaling to him that I did
not
want to get spanked, but of course, he ignored me, would always ignore anything that wasn’t either my safe word or gesture.

If only I’d been able to talk, I would have suggested that he risked accidentally hitting himself. Or I could have pleaded with him. But I was gagged and helpless, and Corbin had his heart set on drawing out the evening’s punishment.
 

“Such a good girl,” he said. He stroked his empty hand down my back, and I relaxed under his touch with a muffled whimper.
 

He grabbed a pillow, lifted me up and shoved it under my hips. Now I was positioned so that more of my ass was tilted up in the air and accessible to him.

“Feels great,” he soothed as he pressed his cock in. “You are…” He squeezed one of my ass cheeks. “Made for spanking. It will take forever to catch you up on all the punishment that you deserve but never received. But it needs to be done, baby. I think we agree on that.”

There was a tenderness to his voice when he said the last bit, and some soft part of me melted. Rough or tender… Corbin always seemed to change things when I least expected him to. It was like he knew that I’d gotten my defenses up in one area, and then he came at me from another direction.
 

Well, there was one huge benefit to being gagged: no risk of confessing my unreasonable and unwanted love for him.
 

That small relief soon disappeared, though. Corbin slapped the back of the brush against my butt twice, then began fucking me, driving me into the pillows. He punctuated each thrust with a sharp little spank.

When I tried to push his hands away, he easily grabbed my wrists and pinned my hands to my lower back. All this without missing a beat, although the blows were a bit softer.

The reprieve was temporary. And I could feel him now. Without a condom, I could tell that he’d gotten harder. Could feel how much this was turning him on. And I knew I was squeezing him, choking the hell out of his cock with my pussy. I hadn’t come yet. Corbin hadn’t wanted me to, so he’d made sure that I hadn’t.

And now I was a big mass of unsatisfied nerves. I wanted the pain of the spanking to stop. It hurt, and it annoyed me… partially because I had no control over any of it. And I wanted to come. Needed that relief after hours of slowly rubbing up against Corbin on the dance floor and then this endless teasing he did, slowing when I needed him to go fast, speeding up when I craved it slow.

How could any man take so much pleasure in denying a woman release? Yet he clearly did. And the more frustrated I became, the more I tried to rub my tormented clit against the pillow, the harder he seemed to grow inside me. Until I felt like his cock might get so huge and swollen that he would split me in half.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more torment, he pulled out of me, leaving me desperately clenching around empty air.

“Spread your legs,” he rasped.
 

Of course I obeyed immediately, but that didn’t stop him from smacking my inner thighs lightly with the brush.
 

He pulled my hips up and pushed me forward. “Hands behind your knees. Hold yourself open for me.”

At that point, I would have done anything. So I grabbed the backs of my legs, not caring that he now had a prime view of every inch of me. I felt cool air whisper across my ass moments before the brush smacked me. Not hard. Just sharply enough to distract me from orgasming.

Then he
finally
tossed the damned thing aside. He leaned forward and teased his mouth over my pussy. “Mm,” he said. “Can’t get enough of the way you smell and taste.”

I tried
to tell him that I’d noticed, but of course all that came out were muffled sounds. And I was glad; if I had managed to sass him, the result would have been a few more rounds with the brush.

“Interesting,” he said, sounding amused. “Love to know what you thought just now.” He plucked the panties out of my mouth and tossed them aside. “Well?”

By shifting my shoulders, I was able to crane my neck so I could see him. “I… uh…”

His eyes narrowed. “Do we need to have another discussion about honesty?”

“I was thinking that it was good that I was gagged because if I’d talked back, I would have gotten more spanking,” I said.

He snorted gently. “Look at you craving my discipline,” he said. “You were a handful when you were trying to avoid it. I can tell I’m not going to have any peace.” He tapped a finger on my ass, and my pucker tightened defensively.
 

“Want to know something interesting?” he asked.
 

“Only if it’s not embarrassing,” I said.
 

He stuffed the panties back into my mouth. “For your own good. Otherwise we’ll be up all night, and I need to get some sleep.” He pulled my legs down, rolled me over so that I was on my back.
 

I stared up at him, feeling like a fool with the underwear in my mouth. He had
again
found a way to make things even more humiliating.
 

“Surely you’re on tenterhooks, trying to guess what I found interesting. You taste different depending on whether you’ve had an orgasm or not. Before an orgasm, your taste is sweet but mild. But after you come…” He kissed his fingers. “It’s divine.”

I closed my eyes and wished I could melt into the bed. I wished he would let me come, or get me worked up enough that I stopped being self-conscious.
 

Or at least turn me onto my stomach so I wouldn’t have to see him taking such delight as every bit of my discomfort registered on my face.
 

“Don’t be ashamed of your taste,” he said. “It’s an aphrodisiac to me. The strongest, most irresistible one I’ve ever known.”
 

He knelt between my legs. His cock, I noticed, wasn’t the least bit inconvenienced by the lack of physical stimulation. But of course that fit with my theory that he was a strange kind of sadist who derived more pleasure from controlling pleasure than from outright pain.
 

“I’ve flown thousands of miles out of my way just for a taste of you. I suspect that if you could speak, you would agree that I’m in control right now.” He paused—a bit theatrically, in my opinion—and waited for me to do something stupid like shake my head or roll my eyes. Finally, I nodded slightly.
 

“But I find myself wanting this more than anything else in the world,” he said. He guided himself between my legs and pressed into my pussy. I arched, raised my hips to meet him, my shoulders sliding on the luxury sheets.

He grabbed my ankles and pushed them over my head.