I had been with plenty of attractive women, but Sara was a goddess compared to them. Every section of her body cascaded seamlessly into the next. Her breasts curved perfectly into her ribs, her stomach curving easily into the swell of her hips.
I want to break her in the best possible way.
The full view of her ass as she leaned over the dresser to set her clothes down was unparalleled. I needed her tied up and shaking. I needed her cries of ecstasy as she begged me to fuck her until she couldn’t walk.
And yet, when she turned around to face me, the vulnerability in her eyes hit my like a fucking truck. The reality that Sara had just been nearly raped a few hours prior hit me in full force. I couldn’t force her to endure my sex after she had already been preyed on once.
“You should sleep on the couch,” I said. My tone was cold, flippant. I didn’t mean for it to be, but the frustration that I felt was almost unbearable. I turned away from her, needing the vision of her perfect tits out of my mind.
I wanted her.
Sara looked like I had slapped her.
“You’ve been through a lot, and if you crawl into that bed with me, I’m going to fucking destroy you,” I said, still not meeting her gaze. It was too risky.
She looked confused, humiliated, and frustrated.
No doubt, she wanted to be fucked as bad as I wanted to fuck her, but I wasn’t going to risk losing control. Not after what she had been through tonight.
“Take your clothes and go sleep on the couch,” I said, coldly, stepping aside from the doorway.
She didn’t move, just continued to stare at me.
“I said leave.” I spat the command at her like a curse.
I didn’t want to hurt her, and if she went to bed with me, she would be writhing in pain and pleasure. It was too close to the incident to risk stripping her of her rights like I wanted to.
She huffed, grabbing her clothes and storming past me.
Every ounce of strength went to not grabbing her and bending her over my lap for her attitude right then and there.
Fuck.
Nine
Sara
The burning touch of my humiliation as it tore through my body over Ryder’s rejection had me ready to explode. How could he have been so stoic just then? I stripped for him in his bed, and he sends me straight out the door the second I’m at my most vulnerable. What the fuck was wrong with him?
A part of me wanted to just storm out of the apartment and see how he reacted to that. He probably wouldn’t even care. He’d probably just brought me back here to strip and humiliate me as some sort of extra jab against Tyler.
You know what? No. I was done taking shit from anyone tonight.
“So, was this the plan all along?” I spat, turning on him. I used my clothes in my arms to cover my chest. He didn’t deserve to see it.
“What?” Ryder asked, head tilting to catch my eyes. He looked pissed. Good.
“Was this your plan all along?” I repeated, crossing my arms tighter and widening my stance. “Drag me away from the bar, put me in danger, and then humiliate me at the end of the night?” I glared.
Ryder’s eyes narrowed, a clear warning.
The rage it brought forth in me almost made me want to drop my clothes and slap him. How dare he think he had the right to silence me, to threaten me with a scolding look as if I was some sort of child.
Oh, hell no, I thought.
“I am literally being hunted because of you. Do you realize that?” I demanded, my cheeks burning with anger. “If you had just left me alone, none of this ever would have happened!”
The words clearly struck home.
Still, when he spoke his voice was as calm as the ocean.
“Sara, you’ve had a rough night,” Ryder said, firmly. My blood boiled. “It’s time for you to calm down and go to bed. Get some rest before you say anything else inappropriate.”
The way he looked at me held a firm warning.
“Yeah, I’ve had a rough night,” I said through gritted teeth. “I had a rough night because I went to some shitty dive bar where one thug tried to assault me and this other thug lured me back to his home during a moment of vulnerability, convinced me to strip, and then sent me packing the second he got me naked.”
Ryder began to look steadily more and more angry.
Good. I wanted his response. I wanted his anger. I yearned for it. There was nothing that would soothe the raw part in my mind quite like making Ryder feel it too. I hoped I hurt him. He deserved it. I wanted him to burn in this fire with me.
“You do not call me a thug,” Ryder said, squarely. His muscles were tense, making him look even more intimidating than usual. “Stop being such a little brat and apologize. Now.”
Another command.
I opened my mouth to tear into him. No more commands. I wasn’t being a brat. He was being an insensitive asshole.
“Sara,” he said, coolly, cutting me off and raising his eyes to meet mine in a threatening manner. I froze. Had I gone too far? “It is time for you to calm down and go to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”
Something about the dismissiveness of his tone grated against me, making me want to lash out. I’d had enough.
Stepping towards him, I focused on the tensed pose of authority he was holding. He looked as if he truly thought that his place was to check me for my inappropriate behavior. It made me want to punch him that much more.
Before I even realized it, my right hand soared through the air to slap Ryder.
I was done being condescended to. Done.
Ryder’s arm cut through the air. With a frightening ease, he grabbed me by my forearm and stopped me from making contact. I swore, absolutely enraged.
The world whirled by as Ryder yanked me by my arm and into the bedroom he had just banished me from. A snarl tore from my lips as we hit the bed, Ryder pulling me over his lap before I could even react, quickly pinning my arms behind my back. The feeling of his legs pressing against my stomach as I lay there, draped across his lap had an effect on me that made me that much angrier about it all.
“Let me go!” I demanded, following it with a bunch of particularly unpleasant names. The vulnerability of the situation had me feeling mad, but also incredibly turned on, and that was pissing me off even more.
He released my wrists immediately, but we both knew I wouldn’t move.
“Since you seem to think that my decision to not have you right now is worth throwing this tantrum over, I will give you your choices once more,” Ryder said, trailing a gentle touch down my spine with his left hand despite the injury while his right hand rested on my lower back, right above my ass. “You can either sleep on the couch or stay in my bed.”
I remained silent. I was too embarrassed to respond. I wanted him to choose for me. The reality of being bent over Ryder’s lap in my underwear tore through me, filling me with a dizzying combination of humiliation, fear, and lust.
Ryder waited, patiently.
The silence between us was maddening, and the part of my back where his hand was draped territorially had me absolutely itching to beg him to take me in spite of myself.
“Sara,” Ryder said, his tone that of admonishment. The gently glowing embers burst into flames between my legs. “You should know better than to keep me waiting for an answer.”
Silence.
At this point I wanted to egg him on just to see what happened.
“A word for the wise,” Ryder said, darkly. “When I ask you a question or give you a command, it is absolutely prudent to respond immediately in order to avoid being punished.”
What did he mean punished?
Silence.
Punishment could be… interesting.
A dark and devious chuckle.
“Oh, Sara,” Ryder drawled. “You’re in for a long night, sweetheart.”
Cold rushed to meet the skin of my back as Ryder’s hand abandoned the tender flesh. A fresh set of goosebumps blazed across my skin
in response. Be it the cold air, or the tone of his voice as he delivered the threat, my body felt overwhelmingly awake.
The fact that the situation had me aching even more for him did nothing to stifle the anger still filling my veins.
“Will you accept your punishment?” he asked.
I bit my lip.
“What happens if I say no?” I asked, hesitantly. This was hot, but a little intense, and I still kind of wanted to punch him.
“Then you go sleep on the couch and we make a plan in the morning,” he said, his voice suddenly sincere. “Just because sleeping in my bed is kind of a sex thing.”
“And if I stay?” I asked, quietly.
“Then you accept your punishment,” he responded.
“Okay,” I said, and bit my lip. “But I’m going to get you back for this.”
He laughed.
Crack.
The sound of Ryder’s right hand striking my exposed ass hit me a split second before the pain.
“Fuck,” I swore, immediately beginning to thrash in earnest as the pain from Ryder’s hand set deeper into my flesh.
“Ah-ah,” Ryder admonished. “Absolutely no swearing when you’re being punished,” he chided, giving my ass a pinch.
Crack.
The second blow came before I could even think of a response.
Crack.
The third.
Crack. Crack.
Four, five.
Thrashing and snarling like a pissed off cat, I worked in desperation to free myself from his righteous grasp. Well, I pretended to at least. This hurt. A flurry of strike after strike methodically landed across my barely covered ass, and I was officially losing my ability to play it cool and act like the spanking wasn’t affecting me. Worse, it was getting hard to pretend this wasn’t exactly what I wanted.
Damn him.
Ryder wasn’t necessarily hitting me hard, but the steady fall of blows to my inexperienced backside was enough to drive home a fierce warmth pierced only by bouts of occasional sharpness when his hand struck just right and a resounding sting tore through my skin.
This was starting to flat out burn.
“Ryder,” I hissed. I had to stop him from humiliating me further. Maybe I had acted like a child, but this was just embarrassing.
Even if I kind of liked it.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
My silence yielded more continuous blows to my ass. Somehow, the rage at Ryder’s actions and the vulnerability of my current position began to slip away in streaks. My desire to yell at Ryder to get his goddamn hands off of me amid proclamations about how I am not a child seemed to fade away as he ignored my grasp for his attention and continued to spank me.
Worse, I was really turned on and I was pretty sure he knew it.
For the first time, I realized that this wasn’t a power play at all. Ryder wasn’t playfully slapping my ass during sex in the way guys do. This was consistent. This was a methodical process. Spanking me right now, for him, wasn’t sexual.
An annoying voice in my mind reminded me that even if it wasn’t right now, it undoubtedly would be in the future if my body’s response was anything to go by.
The fact that he was honestly spanking me as punishment slid across my mind and made me shudder across his lap. God, this was hot in the most confusing way.
He chuckled, and started spanking me even harder.
“Ryder, please,” I whined. To hell with dignity. Being spanked hurt. Even if I wasn’t entirely convinced that I didn’t deserve it.
He didn’t even deign to acknowledge me, just continued to smack my ass with the same deliberate blows.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked again after a second.
I remained silent. I wasn’t sure I actually did. In fact, I was pretty sure I wanted the opposite.
Pain had a unique way of building upon itself when administered continuously, and it was driving me absolutely crazy, but somehow the intensity of the night did not seem so intense..
Still, a new feeling fluttered through my chest as he continued to administer blow after blow to my abused flesh. Guilt. I had gotten upset and lunged at Ryder. Of course, I had been through plenty, but there was no way to justify my actions for that. Unfortunately for Ryder, I was stubborn as hell and still upset about being made to strip before being evicted from the bed I was now being so graciously corrected upon.
The melody of strikes came to a stop after another flurry of blows. Even though the next blow never came, I couldn’t help but tense as if it did. It did not go unnoticed.
Ryder’s amused laugh came from above me, vibrating through his legs and against my stomach. I wanted to absolutely drown myself in the sound of his laugh. It made me curious just how far I would have to let him push me to continue hearing it.
I bit my lip, again.
“Alright, Sara.” Ryder’s voice cascaded across me, caressing me with an intoxicating combination of amusement and menace.
My body felt like it was on fire. I had never wanted to sleep with a guy so bad in my life.
“Are you going to simper off to the couch to think on what you’ve done, or will you be staying in my bed, and consequently at my mercy?”
At his mercy?
White hot annoyance bubbled up once more, making me want to mouth off bad enough for him to break me in retaliation. Ryder might have had me pinned across his lap with a thoroughly reddened ass, but that did not mean he was suddenly a god, and I would not be “at his mercy” even a moment longer.
“You have so much to learn,” Ryder said with no lack of a threat in his voice.
Something told me that I was about to really regret calling him a thug.
Eyes wide, I watched as Ryder used his free right hand to unbuckle his belt. Instinctively, I began to squirm as hard as I could. He responded in kind by delivering a small but sharp blow to my ass before undoing the belt completely and slowly pulling it out of the loops of his jeans. The lost barrier between my body and Ryder’s equipment sent a tantalizing sting down my spine that caused my stomach to do a flip. I was caught between wanting to scold him for thinking that I was going anywhere near his dick after this and giving in to the desire for penitence for my actions, and begging him to ease the building tension between my legs that burst to life each and every time my underwear brushed ever so slightly across my heated skin.
“Alright, sweetheart.” Ryder folded the belt into two, resting the hand holding the belt across my punished ass and letting the leather graze my upper thigh.
The second his intent with the punishment for ignoring his question once again became apparent, motion became me. Thrashing harder than ever, I fought desperately to escape the touch of that belt. There would be absolutely no way that I would be able to handle more spankings, much less if they were administered with such a monstrous device. I wasn’t actually sure what it felt like, but if the occasional naughty schoolgirl story taught me anything then belts, paddles, and canes were historically unforgiving.
“Ryder, you can’t!” I said, my voice dripping with desperation as I continued to struggle against his grip on my wrists.
“I’m sorry?” Ryder responded with no lack of sharpness. “What can’t I do?” He asked, voice low with threats and promises of what is to come should I answer incorrectly.
“You punished me enough,” I insisted, trying to catch his gaze within my own. There was a whine to my voice that begged him to take pity on me, but a lilt that begged him to spank me harder.
“Oh, so you can speak?” Ryder mused. “Interesting. Well, since you didn’t say that you were leaving for the couch, I believe that you’re playing by my rules now.”
Finally his eyes landed on mine.
“My rules state that you’ve been punished enough when I decide that you’ve had enough,” Ryder continued. “Unless of course you want to go to the couch after all?”
The smugness in his tone made me want to slap him all over again.
“I
thought not,” he responded, smartly. “You should know for all future instances that if you’re still wearing panties, your real punishment hasn’t even started yet.”
Every inch of my body urged me to rage against him.
I thought of the belt and whimpered instead as the fire between my legs grew.
A brief shudder was all that my body could muster as Ryder set down the belt on the bed next to us. I sighed with relief, and yet a twisted part of me was really confused and actually a little disappointed that he was legitimately stopping.
My relief and confusion was short lived, I realized, as Ryder’s hand slid down my pulverized flesh sending jolts of pain through my skin before grabbing the waistband of my panties and slowly tugging them down. Sucking in a breath, I froze as he slid them down my legs, meaning that my entire backside was currently on full display for him.
Self consciousness had me squeezing my legs together, trying to keep as much back there covered as I could. When Ryder’s hand slid lightly across my fully exposed skin, I hissed in response to the soreness that radiated from his touch.
He grinned, and I lost it.
The cocky asshole was actually admiring his handiwork. I didn’t need anything more than my peripherals to know that my skin was a shade of crimson it had absolutely never been before. I was going to ream him.
I opened my mouth to tear him to shreds, but was immediately cut off by the image of him grabbing the belt from the bed beside him. Oh, fuck.
The idea of him using that belt had been horrifying when I had the barely-there coverage of my underwear. Now there would be absolutely nothing to soften the bite of the leather once it hit my flesh. Even more strange was how badly I wanted him to do it.
My ass was already red and exposed, and now the real punishment was going to begin. He seemed to sense my concern, moving extra slow, as if he might drag out the moment and allow me to drown in my apprehension of what it was going to feel like. Or how long this punishment would go on for.
Midnight Ryde: A Bad Boy MC Romance Page 6