This angle is so different from missionary. He had all the control before, could choose how to give me his size. Now, once he has me poised over him, he changes his grip on my hips and allows me to descend at my pace. It seems a small mercy.
Or at least it does until he breaches my entrance.
I thought it would be easier to take him the second time. I was wrong. Horribly, delightfully wrong. I manage to get the head of his cock into me, but it’s not as simple as sliding down his length to take him completely. I have to work for it.
Jonas, the bastard, merely watches me with a raised brow as if silently demanding to know why I’m wasting both our time with this bullshit.
I brace my hands on his shoulders and sink another inch onto him. “I’m trying.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t have to say it,” I mutter. “You’re so goddamn smug. Yes, Daddy, your cock is fucking huge. Are you happy now?”
His hands tighten on my hips. “I’ll be happy when you stop teasing me and take this cock, baby girl. Or were you just talking a big game before?” His voice goes drier yet. “Boyfriends. Girlfriends. You like sex so much, you have it whenever you get a chance to, even with your parents down the hall. And yet, here you are, fighting to take me like it’s your first time.”
Shame heats my skin. His words are perfectly curated, perfectly inflected to sting. I grip his shoulders and work myself down another few inches. I almost have all of him now. It shouldn’t be so hot that I can’t simply take him. It shouldn’t be…but it is.
I roll my hips. Finally, a small eternity later, I have us sealed together. I’m panting and his hands have the slightest tremor that betrays how affected he is by this whole thing. How hard he’s fighting to make me do this instead of taking over. All in the name of delivering the fantasy.
“You feel good,” I breathe. When he doesn’t respond, I lean forward and press my breasts to his chest. “You know what that means, right? We just have to keep fucking until I can take your cock easily.”
He shifts his grip to my ass and uses it to grind me down onto him. Sparks of pleasure dance behind my lids, but Jonas gives me no mercy. “There you go again, tempting me with something I shouldn’t want.” He keeps me moving on him, no longer pretending that he’s anything other than in control of this moment. “Pussy so good, it’s enough to drive a man like me out of his fucking mind.”
I drag in a breath. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He thrusts up as he drags me down, sinking so deep, I swear I can feel him in the back of my throat.
“Oh fuck.”
Just like that, it all stops. He holds me immobile, a forbidding look on his face. “What did I tell you, Blake?”
11
I blink at Jonas, my pleasure-drugged brain struggling to figure out what the hell he’s talking about. “What?” He lifts me off his cock and practically tosses me facedown on his lap. I bounce a little on the mattress, my sound of surprise morphing into a yelp when Jonas brings his hand down on my ass. It’s not a particularly harsh hit, but it stings like a motherfucker. “Wait!”
He pauses, one hand spread on my lower back, holding me in place. “Yes?”
Understanding dawns in the midst of my confusion. He’s waiting for me to tell him if I want this to stop or if I’m willing to keep playing. I inhale slowly. Earlier, I told him I don’t mind spanking, and I meant it. He just surprised me. I force myself to hesitate a beat to ensure that’s really how I feel, but there’s nothing but lust coursing through my veins. I turn my head so I can see him. “Please don’t punish me. I’m sorry.”
“You keep saying that word. I think we have differing definitions of the word ‘sorry.’”
I make a face. “You had a perfect opportunity for a Princess Bride quote and you butchered it.”
“Ah.” His lips shift as if he’s fighting down a smile. I don’t get a chance to relish that I almost just made him laugh despite himself because he brings his hand down across my ass again. And again. And again. They’re strikes meant to sting, to provoke a response, not to bruise.
That doesn’t stop me from struggling and whimpering with each contact. “Daddy, please!”
“You’re still being too loud.” This time, when he spanks me, he doesn’t immediately lift his hand. Jonas squeezes my smarting ass. The firm contact has me squirming in an entirely different way. It’s as if the spanking sensitized my skin to the point where I can feel every methodical squeeze in my clit. “Do I need to cover your mouth again?”