by Harper West
"Do whatever you want, Killian," I said firmly. "It's nothing to me."
He shrugged a shoulder. "Alright then. I'll tell Eve we're on for Wednesday. In the meantime, there's something I want to address with you."
"Something else?" I asked. "Who else are you trying to fuck?"
"At the moment, you," he said, smirking. "But this isn't about sex, yet. Your behavior was less than stellar at the ball. I wanted to have a good time, and you were being sullen and anti-social."
I narrowed my eyes at him. He sounded like my mother after I had declined to have lunch with her friends or something. "I don't think that kept you from having a good time," I snapped, irritated.
I'd kept to myself for the most part, and there was nothing stopping him from doing whatever he wanted to do.
"Still," he said, and that stupid smirk was still on his face. "Your behavior shouldn't go unpunished. It sets a bad precedent. Stand up."
I stared at him for a second, brows furrowed. "What?"
"You heard me," he said. "Up." He snapped his fingers like I was some kind of wayward pet, and I glared at him, but got to my feet.
Killian sat down in his chair, the one with the leather and high back and gave me a stern look. "If you want to act like a spoiled child, then I'm going to have to treat you like one," he said, and his voice was already slipping down lower into that tone that meant he wanted to play.
Oh. I could see where he was going with this, and my cheeks burned.
"I'm not a child," I muttered.
"No? Then why were you pouting like one? You went and got drunk in a corner instead of using your words."
"Children don't get drunk," I pointed out.
He shrugged a shoulder. "Sometimes they do. Come here."
He patted his lap, and I already knew he didn’t want me to sit in it. He was actually trying to get me over hips lap like a naughty child.
It was embarrassing, like most of the things he wanted me to do, and I felt my cheeks flushing darkly. The worst part was the fact that I could feel myself getting hot at the thought of his hands on my bare ass, and I looked down at the floor, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell.
I thought about telling him to go fuck himself, but that would just delay the inevitable. We both knew I was going to end up over his lap one way or another, and it didn't matter if I put up a fight first or not.
So I decided to just get it over with.
Chapter 11
Ash
As an adult, it was difficult to figure out how to do it. My parents had never been the type to pull me over their laps and express their displeasure with their hands or something else on my butt in a spanking. They used their words like good parents did.
So being fully grown and lowering myself over another fully grown adult's lap was embarrassing, and I was grateful my face was hidden as I laid down and let out a messy breath.
I could feel Killian's legs against my middle, and I wanted to reach back and cover my own ass with my hands to keep him from looking at it.
I was fully clothed, but it still felt indecent.
My cheeks were bright red, I just knew it, and I let my hair hang down, hiding them from view.
"There now," Killian said, and he sounded indulgent, but I could hear the teasing in his tone. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"
"Fuck off," I grumbled, and he made a tsking sound.
"There's no reason to be rude. After all, you're just making things worse for yourself by doing that."
His hand slid down my back, starting between my shoulder blades and moving down to my ass. He lingered at the small of my back for a second, teasing no doubt, before he grabbed a handful of my ass and squeezed.
I squeaked in surprise, jumping in my position and squirming hard.
He had big hands. Big, strong hands that were capable and sure when they grabbed me.
It felt like he wanted to lift me up off of his lap with just his grip, and I knew he was going to leave handprints behind on my ass.
When the first smack came, I was almost ready for it, and I jumped a little, biting my lip to avoid making any more noise. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Killian just chuckled and did it again, slapping the other cheek, harder that time.
"We're going to have to work on the way you communicate," he said, voice soft and low. It was soothing in a way, especially in comparison with how he was hitting me.
My leggings did something to cushion each blow, but I still felt them down to my core, and I wanted to rub my legs together, both to hide the growing wetness between them and to get some friction going without resorting to humping Killian's lap like some kind of slut.
He'd just love that, and I wasn't going to give it to him.
"I communicate just fine," I snapped, biting down on my lip again when he hit me harder.
"Oh, you're communicating alright," he said. "Your disdain for everything and how above it all you think you are. I am getting that loud and clear." He put his hand down on my ass, and I jumped, even though he hadn't hit me.
I could feel myself trembling, not sure when the next hit was going to come, or even if another one would come. It was probably what he wanted, to be able to freak me out the way he was.
I could see him getting off on that, the pervert.
“Do you know what you are?” he asked me, voice low and almost purring. “You’re a brat. And there’s only one surefire way I know to tame a brat, and that’s to make sure they know who’s in charge. Who’s in charge, Ash?”
I gritted my teeth because I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a response. He didn’t deserve it, and I knew what he wanted me to say.
I wasn’t Eve or one of those women who fawned all over him, desperate for his control and just a lick of his attention. I wasn’t going to be broken down so easily when I didn’t even like him in the first place.
Killian just laughed, rubbing my ass before bringing that hand down hard once more. He slapped it down hard, and I squealed softly, feeling the hot pain rock through me. “Last chance,” he said. “I can make this so much worse for you.”
Still, I kept my silence, not willing to let him get the better of me.
He laughed again, and I knew he was enjoying himself either way. I made him work for things, and he didn’t mind that. Probably because he thought he was still going to get what he wanted in the end, but that wasn’t always the case. It wasn’t going to be the case this time.
Before I could do much of anything, though, he was sliding his hand up my ass and grabbing the waistband of my leggings. I gasped softly as he ripped them down along with my panties, bearing my bare ass to him.
My cheeks flushed red, and I could only imagine how I must look, bent over his lap with my whole ass out, ready for him to spank like I was every bit the bratty child he accused me of being.
It was humiliating, even if there was no one else around to see it, and I could feel my cheeks burning brighter with the shame of it.
I could also feel my pussy getting wetter, and that just made me even more ashamed. It was a vicious cycle, and I was trapped in it, much to Killian’s delight, I was sure. He wanted me to suffer, and I definitely felt like that was what I was currently doing.
“Do you want to be good and answer my question?” he asked, rubbing his warm hand over my ass.
“No,” I said petulantly. “I want you to leave me alone.”
“Tsk tsk, that’s not the way to get what you want, and you know it,” he said. When he lifted his hand, I tried to brace myself, waiting for the inevitable blow to come. But it didn’t, right away. And then like a minute later, it still hadn’t come.
I glanced around, waiting, barely breathing, but he didn’t hit me.
I couldn't relax because I knew it was coming, sooner or later, so I was just poised there, on his lap, waiting.
It was like torture, slow and unending, and Killian knew what he was doing. That was the most infuriating part
of it all. He had complete control over the situation, and there was nothing I could do but wait for him to decide to get on with it in his own time.
Wait and get wet between my legs and try desperately not to start humping his lap.
I couldn't do that, or I would never live it down.
My mind wandered on that for a bit, imagining what he would say if he caught me desperately humping him, trying to get off that way, and so when he did finally slap my ass hard, I wasn't prepared for it, and I cried out in surprise and pain.
He seemed to be done holding back, then. And the blows rained down one after the other, ringing out in the penthouse and echoing with my soft cries that I couldn't hold back.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
He spanked me again and again, and it hurt terribly, but I took it, whimpering and trying to shy away, but not begging him to stop.
"This is what happens to brats," Killian said. "This is what they get. Pulled over my lap to remind them that I'm the one in charge. I'm the one who makes the rules, and if you don't like that, you need to use your words, not pout about it like a baby. Do you understand?"
I was barely focusing on what he was saying, so caught up in how the pain was melding together and turning into a burn that seemed to take over my whole bottom and spread to my pussy, making it soaked.
I wondered if Killian could tell. If the heat from my sex was enough that he could feel it against his leg, hot and wet and needy.
"I asked if you understood," he growled, hitting me harder.
I cried out once more, pain lancing through me. "Yes!" I moaned. "I understand. Fuck!"
"There we go," he practically cooed. "Good girl. I knew we could get you to stop acting so bad. It just took spanking the brat out of you." He stopped the spanking to rub my sore ass, and I winced and flinched away when he touched me.
God, sitting down in class the next day was going to be horrible. People would notice me squirming, and they would want to know why, and what was I going to tell them? That my husband had pulled me over his lap to deal with things the 'old fashioned way'? That would be terrible.
And yet, the thought of someone knowing, of someone seeing, had me soaked even more. I could tell the front of my leggings was going to be damp, and I didn't know what was wrong with me.
Why was I getting off on this? I hated how smug and sure of himself Killian was being, and yet I couldn't stop it. I couldn't keep myself from moaning when he touched my hot, sore ass, and when his fingers slipped between my legs, my brain was screaming at me to slam them shut and keep him out, but my needy, cock-hungry pussy bid me to spread my legs wider and let him in.
I could hear him breathing heavily above me, and I was pretty sure I could feel his cock already getting hard under me. He was just as affected by what we were doing as I was, but it was all well and good for him.
This was the shit he liked. The shit he got off on. I wasn't supposed to be wet and desperate for more.
I was supposed to be better than this.
I wasn't. For some reason, whenever this infuriating man got his hands on me, I was helpless to resist, and I hated it. I hated it, and it made me want to hate him, but when he slid those fingers along my sopping slit, all I did was moan and spread my legs wider.
"Look at this," Killian said, sounding smug and amused all at the same time. "Look at the fucking mess you're making. All from being spanked. What a slut you are."
"I'm not," I muttered, wishing I had space to hide my face in my hands.
Killian kept one hand firm on my back, keeping me down over his lap while his other hand freely explored my shame.
"Oh, no?" he asked. "Then why are you making a mess just from being spanked? Hm? Is it the pain that's getting you so messy for me? Or do you like the humiliation of it? Of being broken down and forced to take the punishment you deserve?"
I had no answer for that. 'Neither' tasted like a lie in my mouth, and I trembled under his hold, wishing I could disappear.
"I think we both know the answer," Killian continued. "Proud, fiery Ashlyn, so soaking wet in her pretty little pussy because someone put her over their knee. It's been a long time coming, hasn't it, baby? You've been needing an attitude adjustment for years."
I opened my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, but he found my clit just then, and circled it with one finger, making me moan out loud.
I hated how into it I was.
I hated how I was losing myself.
There was nothing to do but let it happen.
"You want me to fuck you?" he asked, and I could hear the teasing in his tone. "You want me to bend you over and take you right here and now? Fill this needy little pussy up with my cock until you come?"
I whimpered, which was as good as saying yes, honestly.
Killian chuckled. "Yeah, I know you'd like that. But that's not what I'm going to do. You haven't earned that yet. what you're going to get is my fingers in you, and you can get off right here, bent over my lap with your ass in the air. Then you can go home and think about why that got you so hot."
I couldn't help the moan that spilled out of me at that, and I was horrified by it. He was talking down to me like I was one of those women who enjoyed it from him, and there I was, letting him and getting off on it.
For a second I thought about telling him to stop. Like sincerely and honestly telling him I was done. I knew he would stop because safe words and consent were actually important to him, no matter what kind of shit he liked to make me do via the contract.
But I didn't. I didn't know if it was pride or the secret desire to let him do the shit he was doing, but I couldn't say it. I didn't really want to say it.
That was something I would have to examine later, when Killian wasn't knuckle deep in my pussy, teasing me to new heights of frustration.
I tried to hump him back, to grind down on his hand, but the angle wasn't right for that. I could feel his cock under me, but it wasn't in the right position for me to be able to do much about it.
The way he had me positioned meant all I could do was take what he wanted to give me and try to beg for more, maybe.
He knew what he was doing, of course. He was deliberate in everything he did, and I was quickly losing myself to him.
I should stop.
Say ‘fuck you’ and go home to my vibrator—and I almost did—but then Killian pushed a finger deep into my hole, working it slowly in and out and suddenly, words evaded me.
Chapter 12
Ash
It wasn't enough to make me feel that deep, satisfying fullness I wanted, and I bit down on my lip, but not before a low moan of "More" slipped out of my mouth.
Of course, Killian just laughed. He laughed at me all the time when I was like this.
"You'll get what I think you deserve," he said, and kept that finger working so slowly inside.
It wasn't enough for anything, and it was driving me crazy.
I squirmed and bucked and tried to get more, but Killian just slapped my ass with his free hand, settling me back down.
"If you want to come, you'll behave," he said. "Otherwise I have no issue sending you home just like this. With a sore ass and a sloppy pussy that wants to be filled."
He knew as well as I did that I could just go home and take care of it myself, but he also knew as well as I did that it wouldn't be anywhere near as satisfying anymore.
The asshole.
I just whined and settled down, breathing hard and taking what he gave me.
"Better," he praised, and added another finger.
That was better, that was more. The walls of my pussy clung to those two fingers, trying to keep them deep inside like they would somehow be able to get me off like that.
Killian kept working them in and out of me, sometimes pulling out altogether to tease my clit until I was biting back moans and whimpers of pleasure.
Whenever I got close, he would pull away and then push back into
my hole, working me up all over again.
As punishments went, I guessed this was a pretty good one. I felt like I was losing my mind, and all I could focus on was the steady throb that had taken over my lower half.
My ass throbbed with pain, my pussy throbbed with need, and Killian was manipulating both of them like some maestro leading the orchestra of my body with every flick of his fingers.
My breaths were coming in hard pants, and even with him teasing me the way he was, I knew it wasn't going to take long before I was losing it.
He kept me on the edge, rubbing my clit and fucking me with his fingers, but it was all shallow enough that I couldn't get enough to tip me over the edge.
Probably he wanted me to beg. I was beginning to think there was something like professional pride in it for him when he could reduce me to a begging mess, and I wanted to hold out for as long as possible before I gave in and let him have what he wanted.
Of course, that meant it would be longer until I got what I wanted, and I hated how it all went hand in hand like that.
Killian's fingers had slowed down to the point that they were barely moving in me, and I whined and groaned, trying to convey purely with my sounds that I needed more.
That wasn't good enough, and he didn't let up on me, continuing to barely move, driving me nuts.
"Killian," I panted. "Come on."
"What?" he asked. "If you want something you're going to have to ask for it.
God, just fuck him. He was such a smug bastard, and he knew exactly what he was doing.
If I didn't beg, he wouldn't get me off, and if I did, I could kiss whatever remaining pride I had goodbye. He was trying so hard to break me down, to make me debase myself for him, because it was sexy for him.
And I wasn't strong enough to resist.
Not with the need bearing down on me, and the feeling of being so close, being right there on the edge overwhelming me to the point where it was all I could think about.
