My hands shake where I’m leaning over the edge of the tub.
Because I’m tired.
And angry.
Not because I’m turned on.
And certainly not because I’m thinking about giving into this bastard.
I’ve already given him too much today. I can’t let him have more of me.
But wait, no. I blink and swallow against the liquid fire he’s stoking low in my stomach. I can make all of this stop. Remember—you’re just letting him think you’re going along with this. What are a few little words? Nothing. Not in the long run.
I just have to do what I need to in order to get through today, and then tomorrow, and then this month and this year until I can get back to my real life.
I let out a huge blast of air right as another blow lands square in the middle of my ass cheek.
“One,” I say through gritted teeth. “Please, Sir, may I have another?”
My toes curl in furious disgust at myself even as the words trip over my tongue.
But even though I’m not looking at him, I swear I can feel the surge of masculine energy take over the man behind me. His hand comes down even more stridently and I can’t help the small yip that escapes my throat before managing, “Two,” and then, “Please, Sir, may I have another.”
If I thought he was teasing me before, it’s nothing to what he starts now. Two fingers slip inside, and they stretch and flex like God created them specifically to drive a woman crazy. Not to mention his other hand that he curves over the top of my hip to rub at my clitoris. He pulls away only long enough to deliver another occasional thwack on alternating ass cheeks.
And goddamn him, but it feels… amazing. Sublime.
The forty-five-minute bath beforehand, all that time he spent acclimating my body to his touch, it was like a sneak attack. He’s learned me somehow. He can read my body. It’s not fair.
The spanking continues.
It’s not fair… but oh God, I swear if he stops now, I will kill him, I don’t care how much bigger than me he is.
“Eight! Please, Sir,” I gasp for breath as he starts finger-fucking me even harder, “may I have another?” I lean back against his hands, back and forth, sloshing water all around. I don’t care, oh God, as long as he just. Never. Stops.
He yanks me backward so I can feel his rock-hard length against my ass.
My body clenches hard around the fingers he has inside me.
Yes. Yes. Fuck me.
I ignore how traitorous the thought is as I rub my butt back and forth against him and buck on his fingers.
He lands another solid wallop on my ass before grabbing my hip for leverage and jamming his length up and down along the crack of my ass.
Nine and ten land in such quick succession I barely have time to count them before Xavier is lifting me up and turning me so that I’m sitting on the towel where my elbows were just braced, on the small flat surface between the tub and the wall. My bottom barely fits on the small ledge and I brace my feet in the water.
Xavier immediately pushes my legs open wider and then, holy shit, his head drops down and his mouth locks on my swollen bud. He sucks and licks and teases me until I’m insane with it.
I’m so primed it only takes half a minute before I’m screaming out my orgasm, hands gripping the edge of the tub because if I touch him, he might stop.
Ahhhhhh— oh God, oh God!
The high is so high it feels like the top of my head is going to pop off.
He just keeps sucking me through the whole thing.
It’s— Oh, oh… So long, so bright, oh—
Until my legs quake with aftershocks.
Only then does he lift me by my waist back into the water.
I blink up at him as his huge body looms over me in the dimly lit bathroom, feeling absolutely dazed. I— That was—
I try to sort out what I’m feeling but it’s like I can’t connect one rational thought to another. He’s literally fucked me stupid.
He leans me against the side of the tub but then gets a grip on the back of my hair like he likes to sometimes. He’s on his knees in the tub and fists his nine-inch cock right in front of my face. With the hand on the back of my hair, he brings my face close to it and even in my brain-dead state, I get the picture. He wants me to suck it.
But he only brings me close enough so I get a full view of every inch of him. The hard, veiny length. The fat, bulbous head. The way it strains in his hand toward my lips. He jerks roughly down the shaft, then brings his hand back to the head, where he rolls and squeezes before tugging hard on the length again.