White-Hot and Hard

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White-Hot and Hard Page 5

by Catherine Chernow


  She angled her chin. “Go ahead. Give it your best shot.”

  His eyes darkened to a deep blue.

  “Come here, now.” He stuck one leg out. “Over my knee.”

  Panic suddenly clawed at her insides. She had a sinking feeling that this would not be the spanking she got before.

  Maybe it would be better.

  She wouldn’t allow fear to take away from the delicious pulsing in her cunt.

  “Fine.” She sneered.

  She lay across his knee, fear changing to anticipation.

  He placed one hand on her lower back, holding her firmly in place.

  Then he smacked her ass, right where her thighs met her butt cheeks.

  It stung, a whole hell of a lot more than the last time he spanked her. She was about to yell “red”, but her curiosity was aroused as well as her body. She wondered if she could take more. Besides, that delicious, warm, tingly feeling traveled to her clit, making it beat in time with her racing heart.

  Swat!

  He slapped her bottom again in the exact same spot. This time, fire heated her entire ass and the tops of her thighs.

  She could tell him to stop, he had told her she could anytime…

  Swat! Swat! Swat!

  Her cunt was so swollen she thought it would explode. Cool air swirled around her breasts, making her nipples peak.

  She couldn’t see what he did or what he’d do next, for her head was right in line with his shin.

  Swat! Swat!

  “Dallen,” she cried. “I’m sorry, I won’t come again unless you say so.”

  The tension ebbed in her body as tears filled her eyes. She blinked rapidly, not wanting him to see. Could she take any more, she wondered?

  Swat!

  He gave her one last smack then lifted her from his knee.

  Shifting so that she didn’t sit directly on her burning ass, she snuggled against his chest, playing with the soft hairs there.

  He stroked her head, trailing his hand down her back. Then he laid her gently down on the mattress.

  “I’m going to fuck you. Hard. But you can’t come.”

  She moaned when he pushed his sheathed cock inside her, maneuvering it so that it kissed her swollen pussy.

  “That’s not fair,” she wailed.

  He cradled her bottom in his palms then pumped into her.

  “Was it fair to sit in that bathroom and masturbate in front of me?” He rotated his hips, sliding his cock in and out of her pussy. “I was so turned-on, I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

  She gave him a cheeky grin. “Apparently you do now.”

  ”I’ll know if you come. If you do, I’ll spank you again.”

  She wondered if she could take another. Just the thought of it made her shake with need.

  He leaned over her, slowing his strokes, and whispered in her ear, “I should stand you over there in the corner with your naughty ass on display.”

  “Dallen, please. When you talk that way, I…I can’t take it.” She arched her back, grinding her burning bottom into the mattress.

  As long as her ass hurt, she could hold her orgasm at bay.

  “The whole world should see what a very bad girl you’ve been.”

  He pushed in all the way, drawing out his cock slowly so that she felt every inch of it against her pussy.

  She grabbed the sheets in her fisted hands.

  “Let me come.”

  He shoved his cock in and held it there. “No.”

  “Please.”

  “Do you promise to be good? Do you promise to masturbate only in front of me, when I tell you to do so?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, her body ready to burst.

  “Then come.”

  She had an orgasm so fierce her eyes almost rolled back in her head.

  He came next, his cock pulsing inside her.

  “Dallen,” she gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry.” She pulled her mouth down into a pout then drew his head down so that his lips met hers.

  “My beautiful, bad girl,” he whispered, stroking her face.

  She felt him shudder, his big body trembling.

  “It pained me to have to punish you,” he told her.

  “I know.”

  She cast her eyes downward, but inside she felt free as a bird.

  It suddenly dawned on her that when the time came for her to leave it would be difficult.

  She refused to let morose thoughts spoil the tingly, fiery heat she felt on her ass and in her body.

  It filled her mind.

  So did Dallen.

  No man had ever filled her so completely, the way he did.

  It was a very scary thought. To be so consumed by one human being.

  Her mother had been madly in love with her father, and he had walked out on her and Sloan.

  Her mother died soon after and Sloan often wondered if it was from a broken heart.

  Chapter Five

  The following day, Dallen allowed Sloan to wear a thin silk robe when they dined on their breakfast. She sat on a tall, high-backed chair at the center island, sipping coffee, eating the most delicious, buttery croissant, enjoying the magnificent view. Food tasted better when she was with Dallen—in fact, all her senses were fine-tuned, inspiring something deep inside her.

  Perhaps it was the freedom to explore her desires, to create something beautiful with Dallen. She longed to make love with him again and wondered if she’d ever lose that feeling. What would happen when their week together was over? Would she still want him?

  What if he didn’t want her?

  That thought depressed her so she squashed it, choosing to glance outside.

  The view of New York’s skyline stretched for miles. She could see the tall buildings, the trees and beautiful blue water in the distance.

  Dallen placed a long, low divan in front of the largest of the glass panes lining the huge wall of windows.

  “Come here so I can position you.” His voice grew deep. “I think you’ll enjoy working here today.”

  She walked over to the divan. Slipping the robe from her body, he ran his hands across her shoulders, cupping them between his large, warm palms. He skimmed his hands down her arms, lacing his fingers with hers.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, nipping her lobe gently with his teeth.

  She leaned back against him and closed her eyes.

  “How will we work if you keep doing that?”

  He trailed his lips down her neck then kissed her shoulder blade.

  “I want to set the mood. I want you inspired. I want you to feel it all through your body so that when I sketch you this time, it will show in every line, in every curve, in the play of muscle beneath your silken flesh.”

  He ran his hand down her back, trailing a finger between her bottom cheeks.

  A shudder of pure, erotic pleasure tore through her.

  He eased her down onto the soft cushion of the divan, positioning her so that she faced the large wall of windows, her back toward him.

  She heard the shuffle of paper, the scratching of his pencil as he drew, the strokes swift and sure.

  She didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.

  Outside, birds flew by. His warm breath tickled her ear.

  “You’ve been so good today, Sloan.”

  He turned her around, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

  She reveled in his tenderness, closing her eyes to savor every second. When she opened them, he stood before her, stark naked, his large cock jutting out.

  Her pussy throbbed, begging for release. She could feel her juices flow.

  Art was the kindling that made everything seem worthwhile. All that was needed was a match to ignite it to glory.

  Dallen was her match, her spark.

  “I want you, Sloan.”

  She held her breath.

  “More than I ever wanted anyone or anything.”

  A tiny part of her filled with disappoin
tment.

  Was she totally losing it? She had expected him to say that he loved her. Fool! Just enjoy this, enjoy him…

  He took her in his arms and kissed her lips, tasting, sipping, nipping, exploring the deep recesses of her mouth with his tongue.

  Her breasts felt heavy and her nipples peaked when they touched the dark, fine hairs of his chest. He eased her onto her back so she could rest her head against one of the cushions.

  “Spread your legs,” he commanded.

  She opened for him.

  He pressed the tip of his index finger on her pussy, massaging the small button of flesh nestled between the folds of her vagina.

  “Have you ever been spanked here?”

  He placed his warm palm over her clit.

  She swallowed. Hard.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Never.”

  He tapped her cunt gently with his open hand.

  “I’m going to spank you this way. You’ll enjoy it.”

  He placed one knee on the cushion. She scooted over to give him room, excitement filling her. He stretched his tall body next to hers, leaning over her so he could take one of her nipples into his mouth. Then he swatted her cunt with his open palm, his index, middle and ring fingers centered over her pussy.

  “Dallen.” She moaned his name, feeling the sting on her pussy to her very core.

  The spark was lit.

  He suckled her other breast, then gave her cunt another tap with his fingers.

  She ground her bottom into the cushion, pushing her breast into his mouth. Her orgasm was coming, she could feel it, standing on the rim of that great, wide-open abyss filled with sensual pleasure.

  All she had to do was jump. One leap and flames of erotic pleasure would consume her. She could feel its burn. It traveled through her body, forming beads of perspiration on her face.

  She had to come.

  Dallen sensed her need. “Not yet, my beautiful Sloan. Do not come. Hold back.”

  “Dallen,” she whispered, clutching his head between her hands.

  She pulled his head down and kissed him with all the pent-up urgency she felt inside her.

  He rose from the divan, pulling her up alongside him. Then he moved the small couch on an angle, keeping it in front of the windows.

  “Bend over the curved end,” he commanded.

  Her throat constricted, her heart raced. Her nude body would be on display for the whole world to see.

  It thrilled her. Excited her. Her cunt pounded in time to her heart.

  She grabbed hold of the divan and bent over it, resting her abdomen against the cushion-lined, curved head. Sloan glanced outside, wanting to preen for the entire world.

  Had she gone totally mad?

  Mad with lust. She longed for Dallen to take her ass, and she wanted everyone to see it.

  He moved behind her, his palm on her backside.

  “You find this irresistible, don’t you?” he whispered in her ear. “In front of the windows, where someone could see us.”

  Her body quivered with desire, his deep, wicked voice sending shivers of need down her back.

  Then he slipped a wet finger inside her bottom hole.

  She sucked in a breath while he pushed it in, little by little. His finger remained inside her while he reached around to stroke her cunt with his other hand. Before long, he added another finger—his middle one.

  He allowed her time to get used to the fullness in her ass.

  Then he replaced the two fingers with his cock.

  “Dallen,” she moaned, arching her back, her head against his shoulder.

  Tremors coursed through her.

  She took him in small doses, allowing him to push in, inch by inch, until he was settled fully in her ass.

  Using the index finger of his other hand, he pushed into her cunt, easing his way in, mimicking what he did to her bottom.

  With short, quick strokes, he took her ass then pushed a second finger into her cunt, robbing her of all conscious thought.

  “Dallen.” She screamed his name when she came.

  Small pinpricks of light danced before her eyes, and her body shook from the exquisite, erotic torture he wrought on her.

  He came next, filling her bottom with his cum.

  She relaxed against him, breathing hard.

  So was he. She could hear him, feel his heart beating straight through her back.

  He gently pulled his cock from her ass, resting it against her hip.

  Dallen lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom where they made love again.

  She came, but he never said anything. He didn’t chastise her for it.

  Sloan wondered at the change in him. Her body was exhausted. She fell asleep in his arms, content to be there.

  * * * * *

  Sometime during the night, Sloan woke. She got out of bed, careful not to disturb Dallen. She wanted to see the sketches he had done, her curiosity was bursting at the seams.

  Where were they? He didn’t keep them in the bedroom. She hadn’t seen his sketchbook in the living room or kitchen or…

  As she padded down the hallway, she came upon the small room next to the bathroom. She had seen him go in that room a couple of times. Maybe the sketches were in there. The floor creaked when she took another step. For just a second, she thought she heard Dallen stir.

  Silence filled the hall.

  She placed her hand on the knob and turned, entering the small room. A desk was against one wall. On that desk lay what appeared to be a large notebook.

  She flipped on the small lamp. Light filled the room.

  She walked over to the desk and opened the book.

  His sketchpad.

  When she opened it, her breath caught and held in her chest.

  Her nude form was captured in the drawings, every line and curve rendered in superb detail.

  Tears sprang to her eyes.

  She looked at one sketch after another, the view of her naked form reminding her of Dallen’s great talent.

  And something familiar.

  Something about his short, quick pencil strokes made her feel unsettled.

  Why, she didn’t know.

  Maybe it was the realization that the way he guided the pencil across paper reminded her of the way he made love to her.

  Her face heated, her breasts felt heavy just thinking about it.

  She glanced at the telephone on the desk. Picking up the receiver, she dialed Miles’ cell phone.

  He answered on the third ring. “Sloan? It’s two o’clock in the morning.” He yawned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she whispered, clutching the telephone receiver tightly in her hand. “I want you to pull up Dallen’s contract.”

  “Okay, but…”

  “Do it.”

  “All right. All right.”

  She heard a shuffling noise. “I’ve got the file. What do you want me to do?”

  “Dallen signed it, right?”

  “Yes. He did.”

  “Get my electronic signature on it. Quickly.”

  She heard footsteps.

  “It’s done.”

  “Email it back to Dallen.” She turned when she heard the footsteps grow closer. “I’ve got to go.”

  She hung up the phone, satisfied. The door opened.

  “So you found them.” Dallen scowled, drawing his dark brows together.

  She would have to risk Dallen’s anger toward her for peeking at the sketches.

  Part of her was thrilled. Maybe he’d spank her. Her cunt throbbed just thinking about it.

  “I know you didn’t want me to see them yet.” Her voice quivered.

  She couldn’t wait to tell him that she’d signed the contract. Exhilaration filled her. Miles was right. Dallen was just what she needed, personally and professionally.

  “No, I’m not angry. In fact, I’m relieved.”

  She turned to face him. “Relieved? Why?”

  He reached out to wipe moisture f
rom her cheeks. “Were you crying?” He pulled his hand away, dropping it to his side.

  “The sketches are amazing. They… Well, let’s just say, they move me.” She shrugged, hoping it appeared casual. Deep down inside she felt jittery. She swallowed back her fear and took a chance on exposing her heart. “I love your work,” she whispered. “And I love you.”

  Her admission made her feel vulnerable. Her heart lay wide open.

  He didn’t reply.

  She turned and ran her hand over the leather cover of the sketchbook, hope sinking in her chest. She had told him she loved him and it didn’t seem to matter.

  Coldness emanated from him.

  “Were you afraid I wouldn’t like them? Is that why you’re relieved?”

  He laughed, the sound bitter and caustic.

  “I’m relieved because this is finally the culmination of my dream.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  She moved toward him, running a hand along his bare chest, raising her eyes to his.

  There wasn’t a bit of warmth in his cool blue eyes.

  She dropped her hand and stepped back. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do my sketches seem familiar?”

  Her heart started to pound again.

  She nodded. “Oddly enough, they do.”

  Her memory stirred. “You had contacted me a few years ago,” she murmured, “about viewing your work.” Her mind filled with memories of a tall, thin, younger man. Recognition slowly dawned. He wasn’t as built as he was now, and he seemed far surer of himself now than he was then. Her eyes widened.

  “Think, Sloan. Think hard. Go back about ten years. You and me. I asked you to meet me for drinks and see my portfolio. It’s when your art promotion business was taking off. I brought you some sketches to see that evening.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I took some chance, asking you like that, but I was desperate. I think I would have done just about anything to meet the great Sloan Benton.”

  “Nudes. I remember. You sketched nudes and—”

  “That evening we met for drinks, I told you I was a former Pratt student, but not a flicker of recognition sparked in your eyes. In fact, you looked through me, like I was a transparent piece of glass. You acted like you were doing me the world’s biggest favor by deigning to meet with me.”

  Shame washed over her when she thought about how stuck-up she was then. Her face heated in response.

 

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