Never, not once in my entire life, have I ached to be touched the way I ache for Ten. If he doesn’t put his hands on me soon, I’m afraid I’ll go out of my mind.
“Beautiful. So beautiful,” he murmurs as he scoots to the edge of the chair, bringing his face close enough to kiss my breasts if he leans forward just a little.
And God, do I want that. I need him to touch me, need it so much that I can’t help but whisper, “Please, sir.”
“Please, what?” he asks, still focused on my breasts.
“Please touch me, sir. Please.”
“All in good time. I like to think about things first, Jane. Right now, for example, I’m thinking about how much I’d love to suck your beautiful tits while you ride my cock,” he says, making my head spin all over again. “Bite those lovely pink nipples, feel you hard on my tongue as I play with you until you’re begging me to let you come. I’ve been fantasizing about having your tits in my mouth since you wore that clingy red sweater to the Christmas party.” He lifts a hand tracing a pattern in the air with his fingers. “I could see the faint outline of your bra through the weave. If you’d been there with me, I would have pulled you into the coat check and ripped it off of you with my teeth.”
I shiver, my thoughts racing with an overwhelming combination of lust and confusion. I can’t hold a clear idea in my head for long, but I know I didn’t wear a sweater to the party this year. I wore a black velvet dress. I remember spilling eggnog on it and being terrified that I’d ruined it.
I search my memory, but before I can come up with what I wore last year—or wrap my head around the idea that Ten might have wanted me for longer than a day or two—he reaches out to cup my breasts.
My knees tremble and a soft moan escapes my lips.
“We’re going to start slow, beautiful,” he says, brushing his thumbs across my tight tips, sending waves of heat and longing surging straight between my legs. “And I meant what I said—we don’t have to have sex tonight.”
“Oh, please, I want to.” The words tumble out in a rush as he rolls my nipples between his fingers and thumbs, building the wild ache inside me. My eyes slide closed, breath coming faster, faster, as he leans in, pressing a kiss—our first kiss—to the underside of my breast.
“Oh God, I want to, Ten,” I breathe. “I want you so much. So, so much.”
Suddenly the blissful, teasing pressure at my nipples vanishes. My eyes stutter open, but before I can figure out what’s happening, Ten’s hands are on my shoulders, turning me back toward the center of the room.
“I want all of that, too, sweetness,” he says, moving us both forward. “I want it so badly it’s all I can do not to rip your panties off and get my cock inside you right now. But when we’re playing, I need you to remember to call me sir.” He stops in front of his desk, his hands skimming down my shoulder blades and the valley of my spine to wrap lightly around my waist. “So bend over and put your palms flat on the desk, Jane. We’ll start with ten. Next time it will be twenty.”
“Ten what, sir?” My nerve endings sizzle as I place my hands where he’s indicated, my sex throbbing as my hips tilt back and my ass juts out into the air behind me.
But he doesn’t answer; he simply draws back a hand and slaps my ass cheek right below my panty line.
I cry out, a surprised, turned on, “Oh yes, please,” sound that becomes a gasp as Ten spanks me a second time and a third. By the fourth, I’m arching my back, silently begging for him to give it to me harder, faster.
And like he’s read my mind, he does.
Ten slaps me so hard my thighs ripple, and I feel the sting of the spanking all the way up my spine. And it is good, so terribly, wonderfully good, that I realize it’s going to be harder to be an obedient submissive than I’ve thought.
Until right now, I had no idea how good it could feel to be bad.
But if this is what it’s like to spend Christmas on the naughty list, then Santa can write my name on that sucker in permanent ink.
Chapter Five
Ten
I bite my lip, forcing myself to stop at ten blows, cursing myself for not giving her twenty. The spanking is finished far too soon, and we’re still too early in the game for me to fuck her.
But God, I want to. So much. I need to be inside her.
We’re only just getting started, and I’m hard enough to hang a string of Christmas lights from my cock. I’m swollen and aching and dying to be inside Jane, to feel her body fisting around me. I’m desperate to let the game go as we writhe together, fucking each other into a mindless state of heat, hunger, bliss, and come. So much fucking come. I want to fill this woman up. I want to come on her tits, in her pussy, in her ass. I want to fuck her beautiful mouth and come down her throat while she swallows every drop, taking me inside her. I want to mark her everywhere, until there isn’t a part of her that I haven’t claimed.
But a hot screw—or multiple screws—isn’t why we’re here tonight, and neither of us is going to be satisfied if we give up the game too early. Jane was enjoying that spanking as much as I was. I can tell by the way she wiggles her ass when I’m finished, silently begging for more.
And I’m going to give her more, but not until she earns it.
“You are so sexy like this.” I brace a hand on the desk next to hers, leaning in to whisper the words into her ear as I reach beneath her with my free hand, playing with her sinfully soft tits. I tease her nipples with my fingers, rolling and plucking as I continue, “Bent over, with your ass pink below your panties. But now that I’m finished, I don’t think ten strokes was enough. I think I need to turn you over my knee, Jane.”
She shudders, and a soft, needy sound escapes from her lips.
“I need to pull down your panties,” I continue, pinching her nipple tighter. “To stretch you out on my lap and punish you until your ass is red and swollen. Until your pussy is so wet it’s dripping down your thighs and you’re so desperate for my fingers inside that you’re screaming for it. Screaming and begging for me to fuck you with something, anything.”
She sobs softly as she arches her back, pressing her breast into my hand and her ass against my cock. “Oh yes, please, sir. ”
I smother a groan as she pulses into me again, leaving no doubt she’s felt how much I want her. “But I’m not going to stop until you’re begging, Jane,” I warn, smoothing my hand down her stomach. “It’s going to hurt so good, but then it’s going to hurt so bad.” I tease my fingers over her clit through her panties, making her whimper. “Can you handle that, sweetheart? Are you ready for me to take you to the edge?”
“Yes, sir,” she says, rocking her hips again. “Take me, take all of me. Please, sir, I want you so much.”
“I will,” I promise, continuing my gentle torment of her clit as my free hand fists at the top of her panties. “I’ve never wanted anything the way I want all of you. You’re going to be mine, Jane. I’m going to own every part of you, starting with this gorgeous ass.”
I jerk her panties down her legs with a swift, sharp motion. Before she’s had time to step free of the silky fabric, I’ve spun her around, thrown her over my shoulder, and aimed us both toward the couch on the other side of the room, the one by the fireplace where we’ve sat a hundred times before, sharing morning coffee while we go over my schedule for the day. Even a few days ago, I never would have dreamt that Jane and I would ever be anything but employer and employee, or imagined that there was a chance in hell we would work as anything more, no matter how much I wanted her.
But as I set her back on her feet—naked except for the heels I’ve had her leave on—and pull her down across my legs, nothing has ever felt more right.
I run my hand over the firm, soft globes of her ass, forcing myself to wait, to put off the pain and the pleasure for just a few more moments, to memorize the way she looks stretched across my lap with her hands braced on the cool leather and her forehead pressed into the cushion. Her shoulder blades are flaring in and out ar
ound the elegant column of her spine, and soft, hungry sounds escape her lips with each swift breath.
It’s clear she’s as desperate for this as I am, but I want to see it on her face.
I reach out, fisting my hand in her hair and jerking her head back and up. She cries out, but her expression is one of surprise and delight, not pain. Satisfaction and relief rush through me in equal measure. She was right—she was born to submit, and I am so fucking grateful to be the man introducing her to all the pleasure she’s been missing.
“Yes, like this. Keep your head up.” I deliver the first stinging swat to the part of her ass I haven’t reddened yet, biting my lip as bliss tightens her features in response. “I want to see you receive your punishment, Jane. I want to see you get off on being turned over my knee.” I spank her again and her lips part in a silent cry of pleasure. “You love this, don’t you, beautiful? You love being treated like a bad girl who deserves nothing better than the flat of my hand on her ass.”
“Yes, sir,” she gasps, her brow furrowing and her breath coming in swift pants as I continue to spank her, harder, faster. “Oh yes, sir. Oh, please more, sir.”
“You aren’t in control. You don’t ask me for more.” I clench my jaw as I take her to the next level, focusing my next few blows on the sensitive skin of her thighs, just inches from where she’s so wet for me I can smell it.
I can smell her, smell my gorgeous, perfect, delicious Jane who cries out and arches her back, welcoming my fresh assault on her responsive body. I can’t believe how good it is, how hot it is to have her at my mercy, squirming on my lap as each swat of my hand builds her desire.
“Tell me, Jane,” I demand, letting my blows come faster. “Tell me who’s in control.”
“You are, sir.” She sobs with a mixture of pain and relief as my next swat lands between her legs, my fingers slapping against her clit. “Oh God, you are, sir. You are. Only you.”
“Only me,” I repeat, loving that those are the words she chose. I want it to be only me. I want to be the only man who ever has or ever will turn Jane over his knee and make her wild like this. I slap her pussy again, twice, three times in a row, and she cries out, a desperate, plaintive sound that makes me want to put an end to her suffering.
But she hasn’t begged yet, and I need that. I need it as much as she does.
“Spread your legs wider,” I command, giving her thigh a rough nudge when she doesn’t move quickly enough. “Wider. Yes, like that. Obey me faster next time, Jane. I give an order, you obey—instantly. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Her voice is thick with a mixture of frustrated need and pain. I’m starting to hurt her, the way I promised I would, the way that’s going to make the pleasure I intend to deliver that much more intense.
“Good. Don’t speak again until I give you permission.” I spank the inside of her thighs, trying not to let my gaze linger too long on the swollen pink lips between her legs. She’s so wet and ready for me. I want to have my fingers, my mouth, my cock inside her so badly it’s ripping a hole inside of me, but this first time is for her and only for her.
“And when I give you permission to speak,” I continue, “get ready to beg like you’ve never begged for anything in your life, beautiful. I want you to beg me until I believe you deserve your reward.”
She whimpers but doesn’t speak or cry out as I finish punishing her ass, turning each white globe pink, leaving the imprint of my hand on her pale thighs. And every so often I torment her with a swat between her legs, tapping her clit, keeping her poised on the edge between misery and pleasure, primed for the moment when I’ll reward her for being so good.
She’s so good. I’ve played with my share of women—those who are new to the scene, and those who have been kneeling at a man’s feet for years—but it’s never been like this. I’ve never felt such an instant connection, such a sense of being completely in sync with my submissive from the first kiss, the first touch.
I know the exact moment Jane nears the edge of her control, can sense the change in her energy as the need for relief begins to test her desire to be obedient. I can feel her fighting that lonely battle, see her fists clenched tight as she clings to what’s left of her right mind. A part of me wants to save her from myself, from the hand I bring down on her already swollen bottom, but I need to break her first.
I need her shattered and lost, and then I’ll find her and put my beautiful girl back together again.
I wait until I know she’s slipping, slipping, sliding down to that place where rational thought will be impossible and she’ll be unable to beg, to think, to do anything but writhe against me as I hold her down. I wait until she’s making soft, choking, suffering sounds each time my palm lands on her ass.
Then, and only then, when I know I’m about to lose her, do I say, “Now, Jane. Beg me now. Beg me for your pleasure.”
“Please, sir, please,” she gasps, the words rough as they tumble from her lips. “Please, make it stop. God, make it stop. I can’t take any more. I need you so much, I need you to touch me. I need you to make me come. I need you to fuck me, sir, I need it so bad.”
“I’m not going to fuck you this time, Jane,” I say, even as I turn her over and lift her into my arms, standing so swiftly she cries out and clings to my shoulders.
“But I’m going to make you come.” I drop her onto the couch on her back. She lands with a moan, parting her legs in a silent plea I fully intend to answer. “I’m going to make you come until you think you’re going to die from it. Spread your legs wide for me. Wider.”
“Oh yes, sir. Please, I—” Her words end in a cry of relief as I spread her even wider, my hands rough on her pink thighs, and lower my face between her legs. A moment later, I’ve got my tongue buried inside her pussy, pushing deep as she arches into me, wiggling shamelessly into my face.
I wrap my arms under her legs and lock my hands on top of her thighs, pinning her in place as I devour her. I fuck her with my tongue, claiming her pussy the way I intend to claim her mouth the second I feel her go. I lick and suck and bite the delicate lips of her sex, rolling my tongue against her clit as I drive my thumb, and then two fingers into her pussy.
Two fingers deep and hard, and then three, filling her until she’s tight around me. Tight and wet and pulsing as she screams, shoving her hips closer to my face as she comes, her heat rushing onto my hands, into my mouth.
I surge over her, finding her lips with mine as I continue to fuck her with my hand. I kiss her with the taste of her pussy thick in my mouth, but she doesn’t shy away. She meets each thrust of my tongue with a swirl of hers, consuming me every bit as much as I’m consuming her.
And she’s so hot, so delicious, all I want to do is to free my cock and drive inside her. I want her all around me. I want to get lost in her taste and her heat and the sounds she makes as I make her come again. But I won’t take her like this. I want her consent while she’s in her right mind, not flying at ten-thousand feet on her first post-spanking orgasm.
I ignore the pressure between my legs and concentrate on guiding her down from her release, bringing her a little closer to earth.
“Now, you,” she says, breath coming fast against my lips. “Your turn, sir. I want to make you come. I want you in my mouth.”
“I want to be in your mouth.” I kiss her again, long and deep. “I want to be inside you even more.”
“Oh yes,” she says, a hitch in her voice. “Please, sir, I want that so much.”
“Soon,” I promise, kissing each of her closed lids, the curve of her jaw, the place where her pulse races at her throat. “But first we need to talk.”
“No,” she says stubbornly, her lids flying open and her eyes blazing into mine. “I don’t want to talk, sir.”
I fight a smile. “No? And what did we just learn about what you want?”
“It’s not about what I want. Except that right now it should be, sir, because I can feel how much you need this.” She reaches betwe
en us, stroking me through my pants. “How much you need me.”
My jaw clenches tight. “I do need you, and that’s why we’re going to talk first. Real talk, you and me. You can drop the honorific until we’re ready to play again.” I cover her hand with mine, pressing it tight to my erection as I drop my forehead lightly to hers. “And then, if you still want this, sweet Jane, I promise I will fuck you until you can’t sit down without thinking of how completely I had you, how deep I was inside you. I’ll take you until there is no doubt in your mind that there is nothing I need tonight as much as I need you.”
Her breath feathers out across my lips as she whispers, “You promise?”
“I promise.” I release her hand and pull away, sitting back on my heels to take in the incomparable sight of Jane sprawled naked on my couch. She’s so lovely I hate to cover her up, but it’s starting to get cold. “I’ll get you a quilt to wrap up in, and start a fire. Then we can talk. Are you hungry?”
“No, thank you.” She sits up, but makes no move to cover her nakedness, a fact that is as sexy as the crooked smile lilting across her face. “I am cold, but I can think of better ways to warm up than with one of Eleanor’s quilts.”
“Me, too.” I rise, fetching the blankets I dropped by the door before turning back to her with a wink. “But if we did any of those things I have a feeling we’d never get around to talking.”
“Would that be so bad?” she asks, a vulnerable look in her eyes.
“What are you worried about?” I wrap one of the quilts around her shoulders and fold it over, cocooning her in soft cotton and flannel as I kneel in front of her. “Haven’t we always been able to talk, Singleton?”
“Yes,” she says, brow furrowing. “But you haven’t usually been spanking me or making me come on your mouth, Tennyson.”
A Down and Dirty Christmas: Spend Christmas on the Naughty List Page 10