by Piper Stone
She held her arms and the knowing returned, electricity soaring through every vein and muscle. Inhaling, the richness of the very masculine cologne wafted all the way in front of her, the scent full of exotic spices and hints of the forest. The fragrance was also infused with a heavy dose of testosterone, enough she was already half intoxicated.
A single finger traced a line down the side of her neck, the rough pad tickling.
A spell was cast, surrounding her as every other noise but the beating of her heart was shut out. She concentrated on the hard thumping as the exploration continued, one finger turning into two, sliding down her shoulder toward her arm. She could feel the heat of his body pressing close, the warmth sizzling every inch of her skin. A slight moan slipped from her mouth as her pussy quivered again, trickling several beads of her cream into her already damp panties.
His breathing was ragged as he dragged his fingers back to her shoulder, inching toward her jaw. When he loomed over her, strands of hair slicing across her cheek, she closed her eyes. The mystery man pressed his groin against her ass, grinding back and forth in exaggerated and very slow motions.
Swallowing, she willed herself out of the trance, shaking her head. Before she had a chance to turn around, confronting the stranger, a hand wrapped around her neck, forcing her to turn. Everything in slow motion, she lifted her gaze, staring into the luminescent green eyes of her lover, a man she wanted to hate.
Push him away.
A man she knew had damning secrets.
Don’t fall into his web.
A man she knew could end her career.
Stop before it’s too late.
The little voice in her head had no chance of success, not when the man standing in front of her wore the most dominating expression, his savage desire bursting at the seams.
“Hello, my sweet Ashley.” His gravelly voice showered over her, tickling every nerve ending.
“Pierre.” She struggled to keep her shit together as he cupped her face, rubbing his thumb up and down. So sensual. So caring.
So fucking fake.
“Did you miss me?” he asked, lowering his head until their lips almost touched.
“Very much so. Just like a horrific wart.” He was even more gorgeous than she remembered, his hair a good two inches longer, the three- or four-day beard sexy as fuck. Dressed in dark attire, the tight black jeans suited him. He exuded raw passion and pure sin.
“Don’t lie to me, Ashley, and more important, don’t lie to yourself. I had to find you and I did.”
“Why?” She was shaken, thrown into another world where time and space no longer mattered.
He growled, allowing the sound to linger before wrapping his other arm around her, dragging her against his chest. “Remember what I told you. You belong to me and always will.” As he captured her mouth, crushing her breasts against him, he forced her lips open.
The taste of him was even sweeter than she remembered and the way she felt in his arms was entirely too amazing. Protected.
Cherished.
Owned.
The thought had always been startling. She was so alive, her entire body shaking. At a loss for any rational thoughts, she simply allowed herself to fall into the heated passion. There was no other man like him, no other desire as all-consuming. Their tongues entwined, moans slipping past her lips as he refused to let her go. The kiss was wild, crazed with desperate need, her entire body trembling. The feel of his throbbing cock kept her in a state of utter bliss, longing to drop to her knees right here and now, taking his cockhead into her mouth.
This was crazy, no longer a chance meeting. He had searched for her and whatever means he’d used should be disturbing, but she simply no longer cared.
Sophia finally pressed hard against him, trying desperately to break the connection in order to drink in his essence. This couldn’t be real. She was dreaming. He refused, his hand roaming up and down her back. When he slipped his hand under her dress, his finger sliding up and down the crack of her ass, she knew there was no turning back. She had to have this man.
Pierre finally allowed the embrace to be broken, his chest heaving as he gazed down at her. Taking a step back, he held out his hand, the same mischievous grin she’d seen so many times lingering on his face.
There was no hesitation, only burning desire stealing her breath. She grasped his hand, locking their fingers together. His actions were a reminder of before, taking absolute control as he whisked her out of the club, his long legs pumping.
A part of her that did belong to him and always would.
This time, the magnificent car was a convertible Mercedes, still sleek black in color, a vehicle fitting the dark and dangerous man. She eased into the butter-like leather seats, allowing the man to clasp the seatbelt. While she had no idea where they were going, she wasn’t going to bother asking. That was his decision.
The engine was powerful enough to vibrate between her legs, the sensations keeping her fully aroused as he shifted gears, shooting past the other cars on the road. Everything about this man screamed of defiance to the laws of nature and to man. He had no desire to follow the rules in any regard and in truth, she was starting to admire that about him. A rogue in a sea of followers.
He shot her a look several times as he drove, careening down several side streets, exceeding the speed limit by at least twenty miles per hour.
She closed her eyes at one point, feeling freer than she’d ever felt in her life, the risk worth the reward. This was fucking spectacular.
Pierre slowed, making one final turn onto a lonely street. She knew the ocean was just to her right, the scent of the salty air almost as exhilarating as the man himself.
Almost.
As he pulled into a garage, coming to a hard halt, she let out a nervous laugh. “You drive like you do everything else, with nothing held back.”
He yanked the keys from the ignition and unclasped his seatbelt before fisting her hair, capturing another heated kiss.
There was no way her panties could become any wetter.
Easing back, Pierre first licked across the seam of her mouth before whispering, “What’s the point of living life if you don’t to the fullest?”
His words were absolutely true. He skirted around the back of the car, throwing open the door and taking both her hands into his. As he jerked her against him, he swept his eyes over her face, his look of hunger carnivorous. “I’ve waited far too long to taste you, to slide my cock deep inside that sweet pussy of yours.”
She shuddered as he snapped his hand around her throat, squeezing with enough pressure she knew exactly the precarious position she could be in. She wrapped her fingers around his shirt, tugging as he brushed his lips across hers. “I’ve missed you.” He was absolutely dangerous, a truly bad man.
“Mmm... That’s what I wanted to hear.” He swept the hair out of her eyes in a forceful manner, taking several deep breaths as if riddled with exasperation. He was a man dying of thirst, ready to collapse at a moment’s notice.
She had the distinct feeling that he would never let her go and a small part of her wanted nothing more than to stay. As if they could actually build a life together based on lies and deceit. This was a fantasy, one that bridged time and space, distance and professions. This would never end well, a powerful drug that they both craved more than the reality of their lives.
“I will devour every inch of you over and over again.”
“Yes, sir,” she purred.
“I see you haven’t forgotten about me,” he whispered in a husky tone.
Sophia tilted her head, darting her tongue around his lips. “There is no way I could ever forget what we shared.”
“Come with me. We need to begin where we left off. Punishment before pleasure.”
“But I’ve been a very good girl.”
He chuckled and issued a swath of hot air across her cheek and neck, making subtle yet intense animal sounds. “You will always be the perfect bad girl, a woman in
search of the right answers.”
“And that makes me a bad girl?”
“Very, but we can take care of that.”
The darkness in his eyes shifted, becoming more playful. He gripped her hand, pulling her up a set of stairs.
Every cell had been reignited, the electricity they shared soaring. She was breathless, unable to imagine anything other than being here with him. The moment he led her inside, she jerked at his clothing, yanking up his shirt.
“You are hungry,” he breathed and slid the straps of her dress down her arms, allowing his fingers to dance across, lightly touching her breasts.
Shivering, she let out a strangled moan. “Famished.” She slipped her hands under his shirt, caressing his heated skin, the touch sizzling her senses. Lowering her head, she peppered a series of kisses on his chest, her fingers tingling from the action.
“Such a tease,” he muttered and unzipped her dress, peeling away the edges.
Stepping back, she swayed her hips back and forth as she slowly lowered the bodice.
“Undress,” he commanded.
“And what if I don’t?”
“Then your spanking is going to be that much worse.”
She cocked her head, pouting her lips then allowed the dress to fall. Standing only in her heels and a G-string, she covered her breasts.
“I’ve seen every inch of you, baby, so you can hide nothing from me,” Pierre said then issued a series of growls. “I need your panties.”
“Why?”
“Because I commanded you to give them to me.” He beckoned with his hand, widening his stance as he locked eyes with hers.
She’d never seen him this playful, although she had a feeling his demeanor was only temporary. She slipped two fingers under the elastic, wiggling her hips as she slowly lowered the thin lace.
“Jesus. I’ve wanted you more than you could know.” His tone was husky, almost inaudible. He jerked the shirt from the back collar, dragging it over his head and tossing.
“You have, huh?” She balled the panties in her hand, holding out her arm as she inched closer. “Whatever are you going to do with these?”
“Anything I damn well please. Remember, sweetheart, I own you. Are you ready for that hard spanking?” He slipped the panties into his pocket, giving her a heated smile.
“Do I need one?”
“Without a doubt. All women do.”
“I told you before, I’m not most women.”
“But my woman will receive discipline when and if I desire,” he stated, shaking his head.
Distracting him, she rubbed her hands up and down his chest, finally grabbing his belt buckle and tugging.
He pushed her hands aside, taking full control. “You know what I remember the most about our time together?”
“What?” As if she didn’t know what he was going to say.
“Your first spanking.” He smiled in an evil manner as he pulled the leather strap from the loops, taking his time. That was the very moment she noticed his face darkening, his eyes becoming mere slits.
“How could I ever forget?” Sophia kicked off her heels, taking a moment to glance around the house. The beauty of the house was powerful, modern and sleek in design. The limited lighting from the kitchen barely highlighted the expansive great room, but the full moon casting a vibrant blue hue scattered across the ocean water was breathtaking.
He twisted the belt in his hands as he approached, snapping it against the floor.
She jumped, more involuntarily than anything, but her heart raced, a combination of anxiety and breathless anticipation. The shame that she’d felt during that first spanking had left a distinct taste in her mouth, one of humiliation and degradation, but now? She wanted this. She’d craved the feeling of his hand against her bottom, the feel of the tawse slicing hard and fast against her skin. And more than anything, she craved the attention he’d given her, taking his time to make certain that all her pleasures were fulfilled.
Still, she was like a little girl waiting for Daddy to bring down his wrath. Her lower lip quivering, she realized that her nipples were hard pebbles, aching in their almost desperate need for attention.
The cracked smile remaining on his face, he pointed to the couch, his command just as strong even without words being said.
What surprised her was her almost desperate need to obey, as if his dominating manner fulfilled some part of what had been missing her entire life. She bit the inside of her cheek and took purposeful steps toward the couch, taking several deep breaths. The man of her fantasies was here, having found her in some inexplicable manner. Kneeling on the soft cushions, she leaned over the back, gripping the edge. When she felt his hand brushing down her spine then tapping her ass cheeks, she whimpered, stars floating in front of her eyes.
He rubbed the belt along one thigh then the other, easing the end of the strap from side to side across her buttocks. “This is going to hurt as spankings should.”
“Yes, sir.” The words came easily, yet another surprise.
The first crack was all about sound, the strike never reaching her nerve endings. She held her breath, trying to rationalize why this made her feel closer to him. His domination was unlike anything she’d experienced, a settling to the raging nerves buried deep within her. She heard the snapping sound of his wrist as he issued a second then third smack. This time the sting was apparent, although not painful in any manner.
Pierre rubbed her bottom, caressing in a loving manner. “Did you enjoy wearing my marks before?”
“Yes.”
“Can you imagine wearing them every day of your life?”
“Yes, sir.” Her inner voice had to be answering the questions.
“I want you to count off for me.”
She shifted her neck, trying to see his face. This was something new. “Yes, sir.”
He cracked the belt across her bottom twice more then hesitated.
“Four and five, sir.”
“Good girl.”
Crack!
“Six, sir.”
She could hear his heavy breathing as the intense scent of his testosterone rushed into her nostrils. The pain increased and she dug her nails into the smooth leather on the couch, holding her breath as she waited for the next volley. Everything about this was cathartic, allowing the inner woman to finally escape, much more so than their first time together.
It came with more force, three in a row, stealing her breath.
“Seven, eight and... nine, sir.” She bit her lip, dropping her head, the pain becoming excruciating. She’d never experienced anything like this, a knowing settling into her. This was exactly what she needed, what she’d perhaps craved her entire life. The mystery surrounding the man holding the belt would remain intact. That was her decision.
This was her fantasy.
When he delivered several more in a row, she lost count, taking several deep breaths and resisting begging him to stop. “Eleven and thirteen and...”
Pierre kicked her legs further apart and rubbed his fingers along her pussy lips. “How quickly you forget, sweet Ashley. We’re going to have to do this more often.”
“Yes... sir.” She had no idea if she’d even said the words out loud but as he smacked her upper thighs more than once, she yelped, tears springing to her eyes. “That hurts. Jesus. H. Mother. Fucking Christ.”
“Remember what I said about your mouth, sweet girl.”
At this point, she didn’t give a shit whether he soaped her mouth or not. The spanking hurt like a motherfucker. “Okay. Yes. I...”
The hard cracking sound was enough to make her whimper even before the leather hit her bottom. She could feel the heat exploding, the sensations like bottle rockets. She was wet all over, hot as hades and raging with desire.
He slipped his fingers into her pussy, flexing them open as he thrust in rapid motions.
She undulated backward, trying to meet every brutal plunge. “Oh. Oh. Oh.”
The hard tap of his h
and against her ass cheek brought her back to full attention. “We’re not finished yet.” His laugh was laced with a savage need, filtering into her ears.
As the spanking continued, she fell into a sublime state, losing track of time. She simply closed her eyes, holding her breath as the next strikes were placed. He knew exactly where to plant the belt, exacting explosive anguish.
“Oh... I...” Then there was suddenly no sound other than her ragged breathing. She wanted nothing more than to find him in the darkness, but she knew he was testing her.
Her ability to submit.
Her ability to trust.
Biting back another whimper, she obeyed, remaining in position as she waited. The rustle of clothing was exactly what she craved the most.
Then the extra weight on the couch.
Then the feel of his heated body merely inches from hers.
Then the single touch of fingers sliding down her spine.
Sophia was lost in the world of ecstasy as he crowded her space, his body brushing against hers. She arched her back, waiting with the kind of anticipation that kept her on edge. When he pressed the tip of his cock against her pussy lips, she bucked, unable to hold back a moan.
Pierre wound his fingers around her hair, tugging as he slid his cockhead up and down the length of her pussy. “When you were all alone at night, did you hunger for my touch?”
“Yes.” There was no reason to deny.
“Did you hope that I would hunt you down, securing the woman I own?”
“Mmm... Yes.”
“Then you deserve everything you’ve yearned for.” He thrust the entire length of his shaft inside, spreading her wide open as he took her savagely.
“Fuck,” she breathed, her heart racing. As he pumped into her in a crazed fashion, she fell into the rhythm, jutting her hips back in an effort to meet every hard thrust. All her senses were alive, ignited from the brutal taking. Her ass was on fire, the spanking awakening every part of her. How could a single man manage to dictate her most secret desires?
And she wanted more.
He growled every time skin slapped against skin, every action as if there would never be another. A bead of sweat trickled against her back, sliding down in a moment of slow motion. This was the definition of raw ecstasy.
