His hands grabbed her wrists and squeezed. She gasped, and then his mouth was on hers, and he was sucking her lower lip into his mouth. His kiss was the most sensual thing she could conceive of.
His body pressed into her body, and she felt his rock hard chest, his abs, his hips, and of course his hard cock, pushing into her center space between her legs.
“Cullen,” she murmured between kisses.
He pushed her towards the couch and then abruptly threw her down onto it. She was so confused, so torn in so many different directions.
“Pull your pants down,” he said, standing over her. “Pull them down and kneel on the couch with your ass up in the air.” His chest was heaving.
She swallowed. Did she want to do this? Did she really want to play his sick, twisted games?
And then she realized that, yes, she did.
Very much so.
Ivy unzipped and unbuttoned her pants and then climbed onto the couch so that she was kneeling with her butt in the air. She slowly slid her pants down over her hips. Her panties were still on, but she’d only worn a small back thong, hardly covering anything.
Almost as if you’d known this might happen. As if you wanted it the whole time.
“Like this?” she asked.
“Call me Sir or Mister Sharpe,” he reminded her.
“Like this, Sir?”
“Look at that big, juicy ass,” he growled, stepping behind her. “Do you truly think I’d ever in a million years let Xavier Montrose touch this gorgeous butt?”
“No, Sir.”
“That I’d ever allow any man to touch any part of you?” he asked.
“No, Sir, I don’t think you want anyone else to touch me.”
His voice shook slightly as he spoke in a breathless, excited tone. “And yet you had the gall to speak to my rival—flirt with him—in front of my face.”
“I’m…I made a mistake—“
His hand collided with her buttocks, hard enough to stop her mid-sentence. She made a small grunt.
“You made a very big, very bad mistake. You defied me again and again. You were rude, impudent, insulting and immature,” he told her. “You agree that this merits punishment, yes?”
“Yes, Mister Sharpe.”
SLAP. SLAP. SLAP.
The palm struck her forcefully on the buttocks again and again, and she felt tears pop in the corners of her eyes. Yet, she also felt that her pussy was wetter than ever—and she was excited, not really scared at all of what he was doing.
If anything, in this moment, she felt closer than ever to Cullen, connected to him in a way that was inexplicable.
“I’m going to pull those little fucking panties down now, and expose your bare bottom,” he said, and she could hear just how excited he was by the sound of his voice.
His strong hands pulled her thong down and now she was bare and her wet pussy was upturned as his fingers slowly stroked her folds.
She moaned.
“Stop it,” he scolded. “Did you mean for Xavier Montrose to have that delectable, tight pussy for himself?”
“Of course I didn’t,” she responded instinctively.
Cullen spanked her ass so hard she gave a yelp. “Cullen!” she said, shocked.
“Remember what I said about manners,” he said.
“Sir, that hurt.”
There was a long pause. “You need to be punished.”
“I thought you didn’t want to ever treat me badly, Sir.”
“I want to make you mine, fully. I want to slide my cock inside your virgin pussy and fuck you until you come,” he told her.
She gulped, hearing him say the words. “I want it too, Mister Sharpe,” she whispered.
“But first I must punish you for how you’ve disappointed me. You have to be held accountable for every mistake. Every wrong step, every time you go against my wishes, I will make sure you know it.”
“Yes, Mister Sharpe.” She was sweating, and she was aroused. Her buttocks hurt, stung, and a couple of his spankings had been crossing the pain threshold. But she knew that she didn’t want him to stop.
Not now, not ever.
“I’m going to spank you very hard, five more times. Those five times will cover your offenses. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you accept your punishment?”
She nodded, closing her eyes tightly and hoping he’d make it quick.
His palm crashed into her right buttock. She grit her teeth together as her face pushed against the couch cushion.
“That was one,” Cullen announced.
“Yes, Sir.”
SLAP.
She withheld a moan, as this time her left buttock burned from the stinging strike.
“That was two.”
“Yes, Sir. I deserved that, Sir.”
She could hear his labored breathing, and Ivy sensed that he was getting excited by her vocal submission.
His palm crashed into her buttocks again, and this time his hand lingered, the tips of his fingers digging into her flesh.
“That was three, Ivy.”
“Yes, Sir. I needed to be reminded.”
He spanked her again. “Four.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
The last one was the most painful yet, and it drove her face into the cushions, but somehow it was also the most pleasurable, as she felt a gush of warmth between her legs.
“FIVE,” he said.