by Brynn Paulin
Her thighs pressed together and her folds slid along one another, a slick sign of her arousal. It had been so long since she’s felt him…touching her, filling her, kissing her.
He thrust his fingers into her hair and drew her up to his lips. “Do you really think now is a good time to tease me?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
He shook his head. “Naughtiest girl ever.”
“Your naughty girl.”
“Damn straight,” he muttered. His mouth crushed hers, his lips pushing hers apart to thrust his tongue inside. She moaned, her body arching into him, hope for the future filling her.
He shuffled around as he hungrily kissed her as if he’d never have enough of her mouth. Still, commanding her lips, he sat in one of the chairs across from his desk. Before she could anticipate the move, he had her over his splayed knees. Quickly, he shoved the white cotton panties to her knees, trapping her legs but freeing her ass to him.
His palm rubbed over her rear. “So pretty, but so white. I like it red.”
“Oh God, please, sir. Please…”
“Please what? Spank you? Surely you don’t want that?
“I do. I’ve been bad.”
“You have. What have you done?”
“I…I made you sad.”
“Mmm, yes, there was that,” he replied and his hand smacked down hard on her cheeks. Fire exploded through her, and it was all she could do not to arch like a cat in heat. Her breasts pressed into his pants, abrading as he spanked her.
“And?” he demanded.
“And…I…lied about being sick.”
“Three times, in fact.”
“Four,” she countered. “I told you, too.”
“Four then,” he responded. His hand slapped down on her ass with as many strokes as lies. Oh, the sweet pain. The sweet biting pain. Desperately, she tried to think of more transgressions. Truthfully, she was willing to make things up if he’d keep at the attention to her rear.
“Making work inconvenient, not answering my calls, not answering my emails…” Calmly he listed her sins and spanked her for each one. As her behind heated, the resulting arousal seeped down into her pussy and ricocheted through like out of control firecrackers. Her nerve endings sparked, sending her to a plane of unbelievable pleasure. She wanted to be here over her man’s lap for as long as he’d have her.
“Please… I’ll be good,” she cried for his benefit.
“You will not,” he snorted. He added a few extra thwacks for good measure while she squirmed on his knees, knowing it would incite him to more. The claps on her ass rang through the silent office, punctuated by her thready cries.
“Please, sir,” she begged. “Please…”
If he didn’t stop—and she didn’t really want him to—she’d be launched into an orgasm that would leave his pants damp. She needed him in her pussy when she came. She wanted that oneness with him.
“Refusing to take off your panties,” he added. She waited for another stroke, needing it, craving it, but he didn’t touch her. He lifted her to her feet and turned her to face him.
Her lip trembled, and she suddenly realized tears were rolling down her cheeks as she bowed her head like a recalcitrant schoolgirl before the authoritative headmaster. She bit her lip, knowing it added to the picture and enflamed him. Her hand rubbed her abused buttocks, the skin hot beneath her palm.
“Now, as I said. Kneel. Hands straight at your side and knees apart, Miss Cooper. And no squeezing your thighs together. Don’t think I don’t see you doing that.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered. Her heart fluttered at his commands.
Silence reigned in his office as she complied, and she was glad it was always somewhat warm in there. The goose bumps rising on her arms had nothing to do with chill, though the cold metal of the cabinet against one of her breasts made her shiver until her skin soon warmed it. Instead, her reaction was because she knew he was still in the chair, slightly slouched to lean on an armrest, one leg now crossed over the other, and he was watching her. He was looking at her reddened ass.
Her head tipped forward into the corner as the tension rose between them. She wished he’d kneel behind her and pull her body back against his, then arrow his fingers down over her belly until they slid into her pussy and thrust inside her.
She took a shuddering breath, feeling her cream seep into her folds while her cunt clenched with the need to be filled. Oh God, she hoped he wouldn’t deny her release as he had the morning she’d tried to sneak away. After betraying his trust, she deserved to have that pleasure withheld.
“Tell me,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “Explain why you did it.”
“I…um… I made the reservation at The Dungeon the night you were there, that night when you were the priest and I was the student. They ask you to make the next appointment right away—”
“I know how it works. Why didn’t you cancel?” he interrupted. The ire in his voice had her squeezing shut her eyes and wishing she could escape to anywhere but here. She didn’t want him angry again. Alone and naked and punished in his office, she suddenly felt vulnerable as she’d never felt before. Completely at his mercy.
“I thought about it,” she answered. “It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I-I’d just gotten an email from you—one of the personal ones. And it made me so hot—they all did. And you’d forbidden me to get myself off so I just had all this tension in me.” Already it was building in her again as the words tumbled off her tongue, and she remembered the words of his email and the way she’d felt during that time. So agitated. So needy.
Her body started to shudder. She tried to stop it so he wouldn’t see how worked up this made her, but nothing she did stopped the quivering. It only made it worse. Even her words tremored as she continued, on the edge of unfulfilled pleasure. Being here was more torturous than any spanking, whipping or paddling could ever be.
“And I was reading. And the reminder note from The Dungeon came in. And I thought, well maybe… Maybe a spanking—totally nonsexual—would take the edge off what I felt. That maybe I’d be able to make it through the next two weeks without going ballistic and snapping off some innocent person’s head.”
Ethan didn’t speak. She wanted to look at him, to see what he was thinking, but she didn’t dare.
“I didn’t want anything…sexual,” she whispered. “I didn’t even realize that it’s the sexuality attached to it with you that makes me feel better. I started having second thoughts right away, and by the time I got there, I was almost sick.” Though he’d told her to keep her hands at her sides, she crossed them over her middle, hugging herself as if she could keep the memory away. “I told him to stop,” she whispered.
“Natalia,” Ethan said quietly. “Come here.”
When she rose and turned, she found him standing a few steps behind her. He gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. His warmth sapped away the cold the story had pushed through her. Gently, he stroked his splayed hand down her back and over her behind. The sensitive flesh prickled at his touch, sending new heat into her.
“I want to take you home and make love to you,” he told her. “I can’t wait that long.”
“Please don’t. I need you.”
To her surprise, he dropped to his knees before her, holding one of her hands while her other pressed over her mouth. “Nat, my sweet love… Please marry me. Promise you’ll always be mine. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.” His eyes implored her to say yes. “I love you.”
“Ethan…” she gasped. She sank to her knees, too, and hugged him tight. She kissed his neck. “I’ve been so scared and so empty without you.”
“Me too, baby,” he replied. Catching her chin in his hand, he lifted her mouth to his. As he kissed her, he moved his arms around her back and lowered her to the carpet, then followed. His body wedged between her parted thighs, his pants chafing her soft skin, his fly pressing into her pussy. Arcing her hips, she rubbed her clit ag
ainst the slightly nubbed fabric. Desperate to feel his skin, she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled it from his trousers. Her hands slipped underneath the cotton to flatten on his back. She moaned. She loved how warm his skin was, how powerful he felt as his muscles shifted beneath her touch.
“Ethan,” she murmured against his ear then nipped his lobe. “I know you want to make love to me, but I really need you to fuck me. Love me later.”
“Nat,” he groaned. He knelt back and ripped open his cuffs. His collar was already open, so he tugged the entire shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. Together, they pulled open his pants, then he fell on her, his wide cock driving deep.
“Oh, yes,” she cried, her hips surging up into his. “Hard. Please, hard!”
After being utterly empty for the past two months, being filled by him sent her flying into a muzzy plane of pleasure where all she was aware of was his cock surging into her. She felt every ridge, every bit of his long girth as he stretched open her tender passage. She’d never felt as fully claimed as now, and knowing she’d be forever his, to be so owned by this powerful man…that just made this all the better.
One hand clamped onto her breast, the fingers twisting her nipple. A bolt of fiery sensation shot to her pelvis, and she clenched around him, screaming at the ecstasy. His mouth fastened over hers, muffling her cries as he kissed her with wild passion. Over and over, he tormented the peaks until she was frenzied beneath him.
Suddenly, she bucked and froze in a tableau of complete release, her entire body going tight then exploding into shuddering reaction. Ethan thrust twice more before following her into climax, his hot cum filling her. His deep cry rang through the office. She could forever listen to the sound of him finding that bliss. It was so visceral, so basic and she’d made it happen.
His mouth pressed to her neck as his hips spasmed a few more time and he grunted his pleasure.
“Nat,” he sighed as they both calmed. His erection was still deep inside her, twitching and causing her to cry out softly at the gentle reactions it triggered. “Say you’ll you marry me?”
Was there really a question of it?
“Spank me often?” she asked with a wicked grin.
He shook his head. “You’re so naughty,” he replied then sighed as if put upon.
“I think you like me that way,” she teased. “My poor bottom. So punished.”
She bit her lip, and he groaned, nipping at it himself.
“Probably often. Very often,” he confirmed.
“Then definitely yes. Yes, sir.” Her legs twined around his and she pushed up onto his still-hard cock. Her eyes met his as they both moaned, and all playfulness left her. “Yes, because I love you, Ethan. My sir.”
About the Author
When it comes to books and movies, Brynn Paulin has one rule: there must be a happy ending. After that one requirement, anything else goes. And it just might in any of her books.
Brynn lives in Michigan with her husband and two children, who love her despite her occasional threats to smite them. They humor her and let her think she’s a goddess... as long as she provides homemade chocolate chip cookies on a regular basis. Brynn is president of her local chapter of Romance Writers of America and also hosts a weekly writing critique group. She’s conducted workshops at several writers’ conferences around the country as she enjoys mentoring and meeting new people.
According to Brynn, her writing success can be attributed to an eclectic collection of music, her local road construction crews, a trusty notebook, and of course, her husband, Mr. Inspiration, who puts up with a lot in the name of research. Brynn loves to talk to her readers and can be found at www.brynnpaulin.com.
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