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“I got drunk and nearly went home with someone.”

He loved her for that alone. She remembered exactly what the infraction was, which meant she would always remember.

“Exactly. And you were smoking again. Let’s not forget that. Now lie still. Don’t try to cover your bottom, just accept the burn.” Deliberately, he ran his finger along that moist, hot entrance, for both of them. He wanted her body to feel pleasure. To mix the two sensations, so that eventually she would crave the things he needed. He also wanted another taste of her. He needed to prolong this time with her, surveying her perfect offering. More, he needed to savor the fact that she was really giving her body to him for his needs, for his pleasure, as well as surrendering to the possibility of finding her own pleasure in what they would do.

His palm fell lightly on her left cheek. She jumped, but his other hand was firm between her shoulders, preventing movement, and she settled immediately. He smacked her right cheek just as lightly and then set a rhythm. Two smacks and then he rubbed away the sting, spread the heat over her pink cheeks and then slipped his finger into her hot little pussy.

His heart pounded. He felt that rhythm through his entire body as he warmed her up—as he brought that same pounding beat to her sheath. He could feel that silken fist squeezing on his finger when he penetrated her. Abruptly, he smacked her harder on her left cheek, leaving a perfect pink handprint. She nearly jumped out of his lap, but he held her in place.

“Don’t move.” He hissed the command, pouring displeasure into his voice.

She settled instantly while he rubbed the sting away. Again, without warning, he rained fire on her ass, turning both cheeks from a glowing pink to a bright red. This time he didn’t stop when she tried to wiggle off of him. He held her tighter and kept going until she began to cry.

When he heard her sob, he rubbed caresses over her, spreading the heat along the nerve endings, and then he trailed the pads of his fingers through the enticing crack between her cheeks down to her wet pussy. He cupped his hand there and then pushed a finger inside to feel her clamp down on him like a vise.

“You can cry, baby—teardrops are mine, remember? But no sound. You stay quiet for me. You give that to me.”

She took a deep breath and went silent. Immediately, he circled her clit with his thumb, stroking and caressing, flicking occasionally until she was riding his finger. His cock felt like a fucking steel pole, pressing tight against her. The heat radiating from her red ass enveloped him, along with her fragrance of sex and strawberries. He never wanted to stop. He traced that crease between her thighs and buttocks and added handprints to her upper thighs before working her pussy again. She was close to an orgasm. So close. He could tip her over the edge. He took a breath and let it out, knowing this had to be the last round.

Nothing had ever felt like this before. A kind of euphoria settled over him. His woman, her gift to him. She was scared. She had no idea what to expect, but she still gave herself to him. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this. His woman naked, squirming, her sweet ass covered in his handprints, her tears dripping down her face for him. Her pussy saturated, hot and melting. Needing.

All along he’d thought it was only about his physical reaction, his arousal, but it wasn’t true. Every one of his senses was engaged, but even more than that, it was his emotions. He was completely wrapped up in her. Completely focused on her. Overwhelmed with the need of her, with wanting her. With near adoration for her. He’d never experienced anything like it.

He took his time, making each swat count, placing them carefully so that one or two overlapped, building the intensity. Her sobs turned ragged, but they were silent, all in her body. He rubbed with one hand and slowly pushed his finger deep into that tight, hot, pulsing pussy. He found her sweet spot and stroked. She went over the edge instantly, her body nearly convulsing, the orgasm taking her hard in a series of powerful ripples. He felt each potent wave moving through her stomach and sheath to her thighs because she was lying across his legs.

Savage lifted her and turned with her to put her on the bed. He followed her down, coming on top of her, pinning her under him so he could frame her face with his hands and look into her liquid-filled eyes. Her tears had turned the blue to a vibrant undersea color. The tears on her face resembled diamonds, and he instantly visualized diamonds dripping from clamps on her nipples.


Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance