“Let it go,” Carter commands, grabbing my hip and turning me around.
“What are you doing?” I ask, catching my palms on the desk when Carter pushes me down.
Before he even has time to answer, I realize he is bending me over the desk. I have enough time to piece it together, but not enough time to move out of the way. The sound of his zipper is so loud in this empty room—nearly as loud as the blood surging through my veins like a tidal wave.
“Carter—”
“No,” he interrupts, pressing on my back until I’m flat against the surface. Kicking my legs apart, he moves up behind me. He’s still holding me down against the desk, and it reminds me of the night he held me down in his living room floor. Lust grabs hold of me, but I try to fight it off, to remain focused on getting away. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Zoey?” he asks, almost soothingly as he works my panties down with one hand. “So why don’t you act like one. Close that pretty little mouth, spread your legs, and take your punishment.”
Struggling to push against his hand, I bark, “You don’t get to punish me. I didn’t do anything wrong, and you’re not my—”
Smack. Before I can finish that sentence, his hand comes down hard across my bottom. I yelp at the bite of pain and grab onto the edge of the desk.
“Try again,” he tells me, rubbing his hand over the smarting skin to soothe it.
Fuck. I miss this bullshit, and I didn’t even have time to get used to it in the first place. Fury snakes through me again, but this time not at what he’s doing. This time the live wire of anger is what he cheated us both out of with his assholery.
“Fuck you,” I fling back.
His hand comes down across my ass again, then again, and again. By the third time, I’m squirming, trying in earnest to get away. The strikes are hard, clearly some anger on his end, too. Another smack lands and it feels like my skin is on fire. “Carter, stop,” I beg, pushing against the hand on my back. He presses even harder, then spanks me again. I’m starting to notice the harder I squirm, the harder he smacks.
Another smack makes me yelp, but instead of fighting, I stop. I hold onto the desk, but I stop pushing against his hand, trying to move from the position he put me in. I’m breathing heavily, so I take a couple of calming breaths. Carter’s hand moves across my burning ass again. “Had enough yet?”
Swallowing down my feelings of rebellion, I nod my head. “Yes, please.”
“Mm, good girl,” he says, rubbing my back with the hand that was holding me down only a moment ago. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”
He asks the question casually, but it still makes my achy heart drop. If I’m so perfect, why did he jeopardize what he was building with me over something he didn’t give a damn about?
I can’t ask, so I ignore his comment like he ignores me when I say things he doesn’t like. I don’t know exactly what to do. On one hand, I don’t want to let him fuck me when we’re no longer together and I don’t know where he’s been since. On the other hand, I probably don’t have a say in the matter.
My heart thunders in my chest as Carter slowly slides a finger inside me. “Carter,” I say on a gasp.
“Yes, princess?” His tone is patient while he caresses me.
Trying to get my bearings, I keep my tone soft despite my words. “I’m not your plaything anymore. You can’t do this. You lost the right.”
“And yet, here I am,” he tells me.
“You have to stop before this goes any further. This isn’t right.”
“If you want to stop me, you’re going to have to scream,” he advises. “Maybe you’ll luck out and a teacher will be walking by on their way to the lounge.”
“I—I don’t want to get you in trouble, I just want you to stop.”
“Are you experiencing déjà vu?” he asks, lightly. “I am.”
He withdraws his finger from between my legs, but before I can have more than a passing thought that maybe he’ll honor my wishes, he guides his cock between my legs in its place. He shoves inside me, filling me up in one brutal plunge. The friction sends shivers of pleasure dancing down my spine, weakens the muscles in my legs. Thank God this desk is beneath me supporting my weight.
A moan slips out of me as he pulls back, then I cry out when he thrusts forward and drives himself inside me again.
“Fuck, I missed your pussy.” Bracing one hand on my hip and grabbing a fistful of my hair with the other, he holds onto me more firmly as he thrusts into me. “Haven’t even been away long, and still missed it. That’s mildly alarming, isn’t it?”