“You’re so cruel,” I say.
“Oh, but I’m not,” he says, his lips brushing over my cheek, my temple as he speaks. “Tell me, Ms. Fairchild. What should your punishment be? What should I do to a naughty girl who touches herself when she’s not supposed to?”
I think about what he whispered to me the last time I was in this limo. About how he might have to punish me. About how if he was there, maybe he’d have to spank me. He’d been teasing—playing—but I’d heard real desire in his voice—and that had made me even wetter.
I lick my lips and turn my head so that I’m looking right at his face. “Maybe you ought to spank me.”
His eyes grow so dark I think I could get lost in them. “Jesus, Nikki.”
I wriggle off the seat and lay myself over his legs, my hips on his thighs. Slowly—deliberately—I raise my skirt. The pearls of the thong are tight between my ass cheeks, and the lace of the garters is pulled down tight to my stockings. But my ass is otherwise bare.
“Go ahead,” I whisper. “Punish me.”
I’m even wetter now, my cunt pulsing in anticipation. I can’t believe I’m doing this.
His palm strokes my rear, and I close my eyes. His touch feels amazing.
“Nikki,” he says. “Is this what you need?”
I open my eyes and see the slightest hint of worry beneath the desire. I think of my scars. Of my promise to him that I no longer need the pain.
“No,” I say. “But it is what I want.”
I watch as the worry fades to pure, erotic heat. “You’ve been a bad girl, Ms. Fairchild,” he says, his voice sending shockwaves through me.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Stark.”
His palm strokes my ass, then I feel a quick flash of cool air before his hand stings my rear. I cry out, more from surprise than from pain. He rubs me again, his fingers sliding down between my cheeks to find where I’m slick and wet for him. I hear his groan as my vagina clenches around him when he roughly thrusts two fingers inside me. “Oh, baby,” he says, then withdraws his hand and lands another smack on my ass.
This time, I don’t jump, but I do gasp, sucking in air while I keep my eyes closed, imagining the white of my rear turning slightly pink from the punishment he’s delivering.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes,” I confess.
“Hardly a punishment if you like it.” Smack. “But I like it, too.” Smack, smack.
I am in serious distress now, not from pain, but from such intense arousal that if Damien doesn’t fuck me right then and there, I’m probably going to lose my mind.
One more smack and I cry out for him to stop. He hesitates, probably not certain if I meant to call out our safeword, but I use the break to shift my position until I’m straddling him and my fingers are on the fly of his tux. “Fuck me,” I demand. “Fuck me now or don’t ever think of fucking me again.”
He laughs, then pulls me close and kisses me hard. I have his cock out and the pearls shoved to one side and I don’t wait for him because I am truly, totally, completely shameless at this point. I lower myself on him, taking him in, pressing my palms to the roof of the limo so that I can take him harder and deeper. He holds my waist and I ride him, everything disappearing around me except the sensation of pleasure and the feel of Damien’s cock filling me and my sore ass rubbing against the fine material of his tux.
“Oh, God, Nikki, those pearls,” he says, and even through the haze of passion, I have to laugh. He’s getting an interesting stroking, too. And I smile as I explode, my muscles clenching, milking him, making him come, too, until I collapse forward, my arms around his shoulders, and we breathe together, spent and sated.
“Serves you right,” I whisper, and Damien, now soft inside me, laughs.
Damien pushes the button for the intercom and tells Edward to circle the block until he says otherwise. Apparently we’d arrived at the party.