by Violet Blue
While I waited in the heated cab of Sam’s truck he went about the business of readying my poor car to be towed under a steady drizzle. He climbed back inside and tossed his gloves behind the seat before passing a palm across his wet, closely cropped black hair. I watched appreciatively as the muscle in his bicep bunched before he dropped his hand to the gearshift.
“Sam, I—”
Stormy blue eyes flicked to my face. “Save it, Jane.”
Shit. I didn’t like a mad Sam. A mad Sam was worse than an aggravated Sam. I’d seen that version the last time this happened, the night I’d made that promise. I faced forward, rubbing sticky palms down my skirt, and buckled my seat belt for the ride back to his shop. The short, quiet trip ended with us pulling through one of the massive bays in his garage.
Sam’s company was one of only a few in town that worked on foreign cars, and he was obviously successful at it. The garage was state of the art, fairly clean and roomy, and the tow truck we’d ridden in still carried that faint new-leather scent.
Still, all I could smell was Sam, the soap on his skin mixed with a trace of rain. He didn’t smell like he’d been out at a bar with friends; he smelled like he had just showered, probably ready for a cold beer and some couch time after a hard day at work. And here I’d gone and interrupted that with my neediness.
He never asked me out for a Friday night because he knew my weeknights required as much downtime as his. I wanted the same things when I got home—a hot soak and some peace and quiet. Honestly, though, if he did ask I would say yes, no matter how exhausted I was.
Right now I wanted to see Sam’s anger abate, to taste him on my tongue, feel his heat against me, his hands manipulating my body any way he chose to do so. He was very good with his hands, but then why wouldn’t he be? They were what helped make him his living.
Mostly, I wanted to know that I hadn’t pushed him past the point of caring about me and what happened to my stupid, worthless car.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as he shoved the gearshift into PARK, unbuckled his seat belt and dropped his hands to his thick thighs. When he sighed I looked over, waiting for him to say something.
He stared through the front windshield. “You broke your promise, Jane.”
“But—”
Another stern look shut me up. “I don’t want to hear an excuse. You promised me the last time this happened that you’d look for something else to drive. Doesn’t have to be new, even though you can certainly afford it, just reliable. Am I wrong?”
“No.”
“And what did I say would happen if you broke your promise?”
I closed my eyes, remembering what had been happening to me when I made him that promise. He’d tied me to the bed facedown, my arms stretched above my head, while he’d fucked me roughly from behind. I’d carried bruises on my hips from his fingertips for the past week. Not that I was complaining. Every time I looked in the mirror I reveled in those marks, his marks, beneath my skin, the memory of that night turning me on all over again. Every single time.
I swallowed hard. “You said there’d be consequences.”
“Take off your panties.”
My gaze flew to his face but it was a blank slate. “Sam.”
“Do it now, Jane, or call someone to come pick you up.”
Well, I didn’t want that. I wanted whatever I had coming to me, or so I thought. I unbuckled my seat belt and reached under my skirt, sliding my underwear off and handing the scrap of black lace to him. He tossed them on the dash and slid to the middle of the seat.
“Now the sweater and blouse.”
My fingers shook as I did as he asked. He draped them over the back of the seat then patted his lap.
“On your stomach.”
Oh, holy hell, this was going to be painful. But didn’t I deserve it? Hadn’t I let him down? It shouldn’t matter to me. We weren’t necessarily a couple, though deep down inside I admitted that I wanted to be. He hadn’t expressed a desire for more than what we casually had. At least not yet. But it did matter. I hated that sound of disappointment in his voice, hated to see it buried in his eyes when he looked at me. He was the first person in a very long time that I could count on unequivocally, that I wanted to get close to. I wasn’t about to let that slip through my fingers, not when I might be able to fix it.
I kicked off my heels and slowly crawled across his lap, dropping my hips down onto his thighs. My knees were slightly bent, bare toes resting on the cold window. I stretched my arms straight out, gripping the edge of the seat near the driver’s door.
One large, restraining hand twisted in my hair, pressing lightly against the back of my neck while the other coasted up the back of my thigh, pushing my skirt up with it. Everything inside me seized with tension. I bit my lip and waited as he bunched my skirt around my waist, exposing my bottom. Heat flared in my face and I pressed it to my biceps. Sam wasn’t having any of that, though. A suggestive tug on my hair forced me to turn my head to the side.
“I need to see your face,” he explained gruffly.
His palm slid over the curve of one cheek, the roughness of his skin making mine tingle, before the weight of his hand lifted then came back down hard. I hissed at the stinging pain, the fire exploding in my ass. My nails dug so deeply into the leather seat there would probably be permanent indentions left behind. He kept going, delivering slap after slap to my sensitive flesh, spreading the blows from the tops of my thighs up over the curve of my butt.
I’d never gotten a spanking before, not even when I was a child and I’d been very, very bad. Back then I’d just been ignored. I should’ve known Sam wouldn’t let me get away with anything. He’d never given me less than his full attention.
He stopped to rub the burning skin while I tried not to whimper. I did pant a little. It hurt, but at the same time that delicious heat was spreading through my pelvis, down to the apex of my thighs where I was growing wetter by the second. I squirmed as he firmly kneaded one cheek, and felt his cock swell against my hip. I’d have loved to know what he was thinking, but I didn’t dare ask.
“Are you going to keep your promise now?”
I quickly nodded my head, not trusting my voice.
“Say it, Jane.”
“I…I promise,” I whispered.
He smacked my ass again and I squeaked in protest. Just when I was getting accustomed to the hurt… “You promise what?”
His hand eased down between my thighs, finding my soaked pussy. A low moan escaped my throat as his finger lightly strummed my clit. A teaser. God, did I ever want him to make me come with that long, rough finger. It wouldn’t take much. Everything inside me was coiled and ready. I knew what he was offering, but I had to give him what he wanted first.
“Jane?”
The words rushed out. “I promise I’ll look for something else to drive.”
“When?”
I huffed. “Sam! I can’t—”
The hand on the back of my neck tightened in silent warning before he delivered another hard smack to my burning bottom. I nearly came right then. The pain…oh, it was good—a deep hot ache that had spread like a wildfire. Was it wrong that I wanted more? But I also wanted Sam inside me, soothing that ache from within.
“Please, Sam,” I breathed.
“Not until you say what I want to hear, sweetheart.”
The tender endearment brought tears to my eyes so I squeezed them shut. “Tomorrow. I’ll go tomorrow. I promise.”
“Much better.” His strokes turned gentle then, soothing on my sensitized skin. “You should see your ass right now. It’s always been a sight to behold, but it’s even prettier when it’s bright pink with my handprints all over it.”
Oh, yes, I wanted more of his marks on me. The faint bruises and welts from his strong hands, the lingering soreness, all of it a stark reminder of what it felt like to be under Sam’s control.
He found my clit again and circled the swollen, slippery bud. My thighs parted a li
ttle more, giving him room to manipulate me. I groaned as a potent pleasure flooded every muscle. Ah, yes, just a few more…
He abruptly withdrew his hand and patted my tender bottom. “Up you go.”
My head sprung up. “What?”
“You heard me. You didn’t think you were going to get off that easy, did you, Jane?”
“I didn’t get off at all!” I scrambled to my hands and knees and Sam unzipped my skirt.
“That’s the point. Take that off.”
I shoved it down my legs, kicking it haphazardly to the floor of the truck. At this point I didn’t much care about my clothing, I just wanted Sam to finish this torture and fuck me.
He grabbed my hips and forced me down to straddle his thighs. Then he used the sleeves of my blouse to bind my wrists together behind my back. With barely a flick of his finger the front of my bra popped open and he moved the lace cups aside and out of his way. His thumbs brushed my nipples, making them pucker tightly while we both watched. I craved his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, but I knew I didn’t get a say in what happened.
Sam unbuckled his belt, unzipped, and freed his cock. I did whimper then, a needy, desperate sound that should’ve embarrassed me had I not been so far past that point. He was big and thick and ready, a drop of milky fluid beading on the plump tip. My thighs tightened over his as he sheathed himself in a condom.
Then he was lifting me up and over him, lowering me down one slow, torturous inch at a time until he was seated so deep it almost hurt. The stretch was sublime, the hard press of him inside me forcing my head back and my eyes closed again. Instinctively I wanted to move, raise my hips and impale myself again and again, but his fingers dug in preventing me from doing just that.
Another form of punishment, having to sit completely still with his cock inside me.
“Jane, look at me.”
I tipped my head down and opened my eyes.
“Do you understand why I got so angry?”
I heard it then—the frustration and hurt. I bit my lip to stop it from trembling. “I think so.”
“Because of exactly what happened tonight. It’s bad enough that you work late all the time, but having an unreliable form of transportation is unacceptable.”
“I just hate to get rid of it. It has…sentimental value.”
“Honey, it was a piece of shit back when your brother drove it. Sentimental or not, it’s still a piece of shit. You’re the fucking Assistant D.A., for Christ’s sake. You live in that tiny one-bedroom apartment with no goddamn furniture. I’m pretty sure you can afford a new Porsche if that’s what you want.”
I dropped my eyes to his throat. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend the money, it’s just…”
He forced my chin up. “What?”
“I like having you rescue me. If it wasn’t for my shitty, hand-me-down car, I would’ve never met you.”
Sam’s hands cradled my face. “Oh, baby.” He finally, finally, kissed me, long and slow and sweet. His cock pulsed inside me and I squeezed my inner muscles around him. That garnered me a sharp nip on my bottom lip. “I’ll still be around to rescue you whenever you think you need rescuing.”
“Would now be considered one of those times?”
He popped me on the ass again and I winced. Chances were good I wouldn’t be able to sit down tomorrow, at least not comfortably. That was going to make test-driving vehicles rather difficult.
He dropped his mouth to my breast, laving my nipple with his tongue before pulling away with a scrape of his teeth. Banked lust flooded my body like a dam had burst.
“Do I have to beg?” I asked, practically whining.
He smiled, so wicked it should’ve been illegal. “Tonight, yes, I think you do.”
I took a deep breath. It was one thing to think it, yet quite another to say it out loud. “Please, fuck me, Sam.”
“No.”
I felt my eyes widen in shock. “No?”
“No,” he repeated firmly. “If you want it, you’re going to have to take it, Jane.”
“Oh.” Well now, he was being a sadistic bastard, wasn’t he? And no doubt enjoying every minute of watching me struggle with how to deal with it. I fidgeted on his lap, testing my range of motion and balance. With my hands tied behind my back, I had nothing to brace myself with, nothing to use for leverage. This would probably be the un-sexiest fuck in the long and storied history of fucking.
Tentatively, I lifted my hips. The slow, sweet drag of Sam’s cock inside me was enough to make me forget my awkwardness, and certainly enough to make me want to continue. I was careful that I didn’t go too far. If he slid free of me I wasn’t sure he’d be so gracious as to reinsert himself.
How he managed to look so unaffected was beyond me, and more than a little frustrating. His expression remained stoic as he kept his eyes trained on my face. The only telltale sign of his own excitement was the flush of color on his neck and the way his lids dipped over his slightly dilated pupils as I slid back down.
Working my legs farther apart, I shifted more of my weight toward my knees and tipped my shoulders forward. It helped, and I began to slowly ride Sam, letting the pleasure build to where it had been when he first speared me on his rigid cock.
His hands remained lightly clasped around my thighs, his ass planted firmly in the seat. If I was going to get there tonight, it would be of my own doing. But I couldn’t give up, could I? Giving up would mean so much more than just forgoing an orgasm. No, this was a test I had to pass. I had to show Sam I wanted him enough to deal with his consequences. In for a penny, in for a pound. If I quit, I might as well delete his number from my phone and forget I ever met him, and I wasn’t about to do that.
I was swimming in a thick, swirling haze of sensation. It started inside my pussy and crawled up and out, infusing my body with warm bliss. Everything else fell away but us—Sam and I—cocooned inside the warm cab of his truck with nothing but the heady smell of sex, the wet sounds of me sliding over him, and the unforgiving grip of need. It squeezed me tighter and tighter with every stroke of his cock across hypersensitive tissue. An orgasm built, but would it break? Could I come this way, with no extra stimulation to my clit or breasts?
Sam’s face tightened in front of me, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenched his teeth. So yeah, he wasn’t that impervious. “I wanted to do this in the truck for a reason, Jane.” Whether he knew it or not, his fingertips had started to press into my thighs. I made some noise of pleasurable agreement and he continued. “Now every time I climb in here to go work a job, I’ll think of this. I’ll remember the sight of your pink ass…how hot it was under my hand.”
Yes, keep talking, Sam. Almost there…
“I’ll think about how beautiful you looked riding me, your pussy tight and wet and warm around my dick.”
Maybe it was the spanking, or his words, or being forced to wait with Sam’s rigid cock buried deep inside me. Perhaps it was because I had to work so hard to get there, but whatever helped it along, I came so hard my eyes crossed.
“That’s my girl,” I heard him murmur softly, his pleased tone breaking something wide open inside of me.
Sam finally relented on his self-imposed, no-help rule; grabbing my hips and lifting me before slamming me back down with a deep, drawn-out groan of completion. My hands were freed and they automatically curled around his neck. He pressed his face to my shoulder as our breathing gradually calmed.
Through the back glass of the truck I watched as tiny specks of white began to drift through the beams from the security lights. It wouldn’t last long, probably melt the second it touched the ground. I didn’t want to go home to my cold, empty apartment. I’d rather stay with Sam, in his giant bed on sheets that smelled like him, encased by his warmth and strength.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” I asked, afraid that he’d say no. And if he did, it would be more punishment, whether he intended it that way or not. His denying my request would hurt worse than a spanking.
I would feel it deeper, in places that had never been hurt before.
His arms tightened around my waist. “Of course you can. I would’ve asked, but I didn’t want you to think I was doing it because I didn’t trust you to keep your word about tomorrow.”
I pulled back so I could look at him. “I would never think that about you, Sam. It was me who broke that promise, and I deserved what I got. But if you had ignored my text for help, I would’ve deserved that, too.”
“That wasn’t going to happen, Jane.” He brushed my hair away from my face. “I just needed you to understand where I stood. I’m not going to let you take chances with your safety. You’re too important to me.”
I smiled hesitantly. “I am?”
“Yes, you are.” One corner of his mouth curved into a crooked grin. “Does that scare the fuck out of you?”
I thought back to earlier in the night, when my car had given up, leaving me stranded in that deserted parking lot. I had been anxious then at being somewhere unfamiliar and alone. But it hadn’t been near as frightening as the possibility of Sam telling me no, he wasn’t coming to my rescue. And it had nothing to do with the car itself and everything to do with the chance that my failure to honor my promise might have caused me to lose him forever. It wouldn’t happen again.
“No, it doesn’t.” I kissed him, whispering against his lips, “I’ll never break another promise to you.”
“Yes you will.” His huff of laughter brushed across my cheek while one calloused hand rubbed my sore bottom. “But that’s okay. I know how to make you keep them.”
STOP ’N BUY
Mimi Kessel
The first thing I noticed about the Stop ’N Buy near my apartment in Seoul was their reluctance to furnish carry bags, no matter how much you bought. Next was the guy who worked the night shift.
Shops are way too free with bags in the States. I was used to declining them and grabbing my purchases off the counter and stuffing them in my purse and pockets and looking like a maniac. So Korea wasn’t any different, except my friends had convinced me that no one in Seoul drinks from the tap. I could see my apartment building from the Stop ’N Buy, and that was the only time it ever occurred to me to buy water. I never left the store with fewer than a couple of two-liter bottles in my arms. I also couldn’t seem to learn the Korean numbers, so my transactions and exits were less than graceful.
