My eyes flit to him in an attempt to gauge his seriousness, but when he merely looks at me as though he’s bored, I grin.
Easy enough. It’s not like I have on panties considering he ripped them from my body, and I didn’t wear a bra because of the thick velvet fabric. So really, it’s just a quick button and zipper.
I make quick work of undoing the back but take my time stripping it from my shoulders and down my arms. It drops from my body, pooling around my feet.
When I look back up, Roman remains seated, his leg still crossed over the other with both his sleeves rolled. The only notable changes in his demeanor are his pupils erasing his dark irises, along with an odd-looking stick now grasped in his hand. One side is flat, almost like a fly swatter, while the other has a fuzzy ball.
“Where did you get that?”
He shrugs, an annoyingly smug look on his face. “You’re not very observant.”
My heart rate increases, and I have to swallow twice in order to get the sudden lump in my throat down to release.
I lift my shoulders. “Now what?”
He drops his foot, and the echo of his sole hitting the wood floor makes my stomach tense. He gestures to his lap. “Lay down.”
My clit pulses, anticipation coiling low in my belly. I quickly brush away the line of sweat that’s started at my temple and take a tentative step over my dress and toward him.
I gingerly sit next to him at first but then he slides a hand up my back and into my hair. He pulls me toward him, pressing his mouth to mine in a brutal kiss, coercing my lips open with his tongue and taking control.
My body feels like it’s on fire—the constant build-up and drop of nerves beginning to overwhelm me. My breasts are heavy, my nipples drawing tight, and suddenly, I need them in his mouth.
I’m becoming needy—wanton, even. My fingers claw at his shirt and reach for his hair, but when I brush against his ends, he breaks away from my mouth, and moves me forward.
Caught off guard, I lose balance and tip over, my front meeting his lap. A sharp pop rings out, followed by a stinging sensation radiating across my ass.
Before I can register what just happened, his hand caresses the light burn. “One.”
“Oh.” I barely get the word out before another snap of the leather piece comes down across my butt in the same spot.
This time I gasp, surprise, pain, and arousal vibrating through me.
“You count the rest, Miss Cartier.”
“I-I…” I pause, collecting myself. “I thought spanking was done with your hand.”
“The only spanking I do with this hand will be on your pussy. Would you rather I do that?”
Another slap. This one ricochets against my clit, and I moan out the number. “Three.”
His heavy hand rubs over the spot, as I finally grab onto the cushion of the dark leather, using it as purchase to arch my back.
A finger swipes through my folds, surprising me. I lurch up, but he forces me back down. “You’re so wet for me, Presley. Perhaps you’re enjoying your punishment too much. Maybe I should stop and think—”
“No,” I squeak out. “Please. More.”
I can’t see him, but I imagine him smiling. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to spank me with your little magic stick.”
He groans inwardly, making me shudder. “Why?”
“Because I deserve it.”
“Why?”
I honestly don’t know the reason why, but I can guess. “For teasing you.”
Another slap.
My back arches. “Four.”
“You knew you were teasing me? Every time you mouthed off, or walked away from me, shaking this perfect little ass, knowing I was watching. Biting that lip and giving me those wide, submissive eyes. You knew.”
The second time he says it, it’s no longer a question.
“Yes.”
A scoff leaves him, and this time, the pop is much harder. The pain is like lightning, shooting up my spine and into my limbs. I want more. “Five.”
“Naughty girl. You’re dripping over my thighs.” His hands continue to circle the spot, but his fingers finally dip inside where I’m aching for them.
He pumps them inside me slowly at first, his fingers curling and twisting until he has me writhing on top of him. The build is damn near instant, my nerves seizing as he picks up speed.
But then all at once, his fingers disappear and another slap rings out.
I cry out. My stolen orgasm has me shaking, my composure burning to shreds as he rubs away the pain.
“S... six.”
“Each number is a time you teased me. Sent me home with nothing but desire for your cunt coming around my cock to be a mere fantasy. For the times you made me go against my own belief of not letting anyone affect me.”
His hand returns to my trembling pussy, and he resumes fucking me with his digits. This time, it’s harder, and his thumb joins in, rubbing against my clit so fiercely, I convulse. At the exact moment my nerves combust, Roman hits my ass again, sending me over the edge.
When my orgasm comes, it’s like being thrown into a tidal wave. My breath is impossible to catch, my body heavy and weightless, like a never-ending ride that makes you feel close to death, but in the best possible way. My teeth find his thigh, and I don’t care that I latch on as I ride the wave out until everything stops pulsing.
It could be seconds, or hell, even minutes before I finally come down, the white spots ebbing from my vision and the colorful lights staining the floor coming back into focus.
“Seven,” I breathe.
“Hmm,” he purrs, his hands working my back in small circles.. “Such a good girl.”
The praise loosens my chest, and now, I have a desperate need to please him more. Twice now, he’s given me the best orgasm of my life, and I want to do the same for him.
But before I can even mutter a word, he shifts beneath me. “You did so well,” he concedes, rubbing my back and helping me to my feet.
His hand drops down to mine and he interlocks our fingers, before kissing my damp forehead “Now. Let’s clean you up.”
I knew she would give me more than I bargained for, but I never imagined just how much. Presley has proven to be something I can say I have missed out on.
Every fight, a wasted opportunity.
Every moment alone, a chance I should have taken.
This woman is a muse, a diamond hidden under the sands of my ignorance. And now that I have her within my grasp, I don’t plan on letting her go. It’s much too late for that.
I’ve already committed her taste to memory. The way she arches her back and the spot that makes her whimper. I meant what I said. As soon as she says yes to continuing this anomaly we’ve only just discovered, she is mine.
I lead her through the apartment and to my bathroom. I tap the button on the wall to start the floor warmers, but when she kicks off her heels and lets her toes touch the cold tile she shivers against me.