“You aren’t going to get in trouble for this, are you?” I ask, suddenly thinking about it. Is there some kind of rule against this? Dating the… customers, I guess?
Zayne only laughs and hits the door close button. “The only trouble we’re getting into tonight is one another,” he says, pinning me against the corner of the elevator with one arm on the glass behind me. I lean against the wall, looking up at him. I’m struck again by the way his sharp blue eyes pierce me, the way his body angles toward me to turn me on, light me up.
One way or another, tonight marks a turning point. Either this is a very, very bad decision—something the nervous rumble in my gut tells me it very well might be—or it’s a different kind of bad decision. The kind that will give me sleepless nights thinking about it for days to come.
Either way, it’s too late now. I’ve already jumped.
The elevator doors ding and slide open. We step out onto Zayne’s floor, the 11th floor, a floor I’ve never been to in all my years living in this building so far. He crosses to his door, unlocks it, and I take a deep breath and fall straight into the deep end.
4
The second the door shuts behind us, Zayne shifts into alpha mode.
“Take off your dress.”
Our eyes lock. I keep mine on him as I slowly reach for the hem of my dress. Catch it and raise it over my shoulders. Normally I’d be shy about undressing for a guy the first time, but something about the white-hot heat in Zayne’s gaze doesn’t allow for it. He wants me—bad. So why feel shy about letting him take what he wants?
I drop the dress beside me, standing in my panties and bra before him.
He paces around me in a slow circle, eyes darting up and down my body as he sizes me up. “Now take off your bra.”
I catch his eye once more, hold it while I reach back to unclasp my bra. I let it slide down my arms, and my belly tightens at the way his gaze drops to my breasts, a hungry glint in his eye. He lifts one eyebrow, allows himself a small, private grin.
“Take off your panties now.”
I lift my chin and let my gaze drop down his body pointedly. “This seems a little one-sided,” I point out.
“Are you disobeying me, naughty girl?”
“What do you plan to do with me if I am?” I ask, my smile widening.
“Mm…” He pauses to let his eyes wander across my body once more, as though debating. “If you are being disobedient, I suppose a spanking would be in order… I’d have to bend you over my knee and give it to you hard.”
My throat goes dry, my pussy tight with anticipation. God I am so fucking wet already. How does he do this to me? I lift my chin, put one hand on my hip. “Hmm. In that case, I am definitely disobeying you,” I reply.
In an instant, he’s beside me, one arm around my shoulders, the other sweeping my legs out from under me. I barely have time to squeal and fling my arms around his neck before he’s dropping onto the couch and bringing me with him, spreading me across his legs. With both hands, he easily flips me over, as if I weigh nothing at all. I suppose to him I probably don’t.
I lean across his knees, bent so my head faces the floor. He positions me so my ass sticks straight up in the air, across his thighs. Then he runs his hand over my cheeks, one at a time, slow and considering.
Shivers of anticipation and pleasure rush down my spine as he takes his time, massaging my ass.
“You’ve been teasing me all night. Acting very dirty. I think it’s time you learn what naughty girls get for that.”
I suck in a sharp breath, tensed. I’ve always loved the idea of being spanked, but I’ve never had the guts to ask a guy to do it before. Somehow, with Zayne, it feels okay. More than okay. It feels safe. “Punish me,” I whisper, and he laughs, a low, throaty sound that resonates deep in my belly.
Without warning, he spanks my ass once, hard. I gasp and jump against him, but with his other hand, he pins me in place, holding me down across his legs.
“Count,” he says, as his hand comes down again in another sharp slap.
“One,” I gasp. The pain is sharp, stinging, but not unpleasant. It makes me even wetter, imagining how else he’ll punish me. What else he wants to make me do.
He spanks me again, and I count it. We keep going like that, until we get to five and both of my ass cheeks are burning, my whole body alight with the sensation. Then, abruptly, he stops, and starts to massage my ass again.