“I don’t understand what that means.”
I didn’t understand it any more after that. I didn’t understand Paxton, and I didn’t understand what the hell was up with him. Paxton didn’t elaborate on what it meant. He moved my sleeping tablet and hovered above me.
I waited for him to speak, say something, anything while he stared down at me, his own desperation, illuminating in his eyes. Our lips meeting were the only answers I got from Paxton. Of course, that confused me even more. His kiss was so emotional, and I knew Paxton fought his own demons. Demons that were trying to get to me. The ones that wanted me to remember. The ones he wanted me to forget.
Paxton was still Paxton. Even with this new sense of fucked-upness, he needed control. Control of something that didn’t need much persuasion.
“I need to spank you, Gabriella,” he said in a despairing tone, trying to fight it. He lost.
“Why?” I questioned as his tongue dove back into my mouth.
Another make-out session and he answered. “It’s what we do. You were bad.”
“I’m twenty-five,” I stated in a pant while my hips twisted into his erection hidden behind thin basketball shorts.
“I need you to listen to me, Gabriella. Do as I say. Please,” Paxton begged with an anxious attempt to get me to cooperate. Desperate words matched his tense expression.
I looked into the eyes of a different man. Something was unquestionably different. “Okay.”
“Stop talking.”
“Why? Why do you always want me to be quiet when we’re alone?”
Paxton replied with a frown and a finger over my lips. A warning for me to stop.
“Come here. Bend over my lap.”
My heart pounded a little faster as I dopamine rushed through my veins. The faint throb I’d felt between my legs moments before turned into a frantic pulsation. Even with the way Paxton made me feel smaller, I laid it on thick. I rose to my knees, letting my fingers glide through the back of his hair while my lips met his. He was taken back a little, I could tell. My tongue thrust into his mouth, dancing with his while his hand glided up the back of my leg. I moaned once and stopped to do as I was told. To bend over his lap and take my punishment.
I have no idea why I thought this was so erotic, so adrenaline-charged, so sensual, but it was. Paxton held very still for a second. Not even a breath. I laid there over his lap, and waited with an overactive clit and a pounding heart.
One finger moved up the back of my leg, stopping at the string between my legs. He tugged a little, pressing the line of lace into the pucker in my ass. That’s when I heard his breathing. Slow and concentrated.
“You can’t do this, Gabriella. You can’t change the rules. This is the way it is. The way it’s always been. It has to be this way,” he explained while his warm hand rubbed my ass. I didn’t answer, and it wasn’t because I was afraid of him. I wasn’t. Even when I tried to be, I wasn’t. Not really. Not anymore. I wasn’t afraid of him hurting me. Not physically anyway.
My entire body reacted with a jerk when the first contact of his hand met my right ass cheek. Paxton rubbed the pain away only to do it again. The same stiff jerk with a faint whimper that time. My eyes shut tightly and I gripped the soft, white duvet cover in two fists clamped closed.
My breath caught after the third blow. I thought he was done, that the spanking was finished after three cracks. Paxton slid my panties over my hips, taking his time with the string in the crack of my ass. Just when I was ready to let out the same held breath, his fingers slid between my legs. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do anything. Every nerve in my body was on high alert. Intoxicating sensations flooded my entire being.
“Jesus. Why are you so wet?”
“Because you make me that way.”
“Shh,” he chided with an unexpected blow to my left ass cheek. I moaned that time. One finger, slipping in and out of me, mixed with the sudden assault, only intensified my emotions. I was a raging slut. No doubt about it. I wanted any and everything Paxton Pierce would give me. I’d take it all.
And I did. Seven seemed to be the magic number. Once Paxton had rubbed the pain away, he ordered me to move.
“Get on your knees,” he said in a sultry, low tone. I recognized it right away. Paxton fought a losing battle and I knew it.
I obeyed on my terms. With my panties around my calves, I obliged. I turned and got on my knees, ass in the air, staring right at him.
“Not on the bed. Get on your knees on the floor.”
“No, get on your knees behind me,” I countered.
“God dammit, Gabriella. Stop.”
“Get behind me, Paxton,” I coaxed with a finger gliding through my wet slit. I felt the bed rock when his knees moved behind me. And then I moaned. A lot. “Hmm,” I muttered as every inch of him slid inside me. My erotic noises became even louder when he reached around and pinched my throbbing nub between two fingers. “Yes, baby. Right there. Hmm, fuck.”