Page 40 of Brutal Kiss

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He can touch me however he likes. I won’t let it go.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says quietly, hand squeezing my ass, that fucking prick. “You’ve been coddled your whole life. Yes, I know. You’ve had your fair share of trauma. I won’t deny it, but you’re also a spoiled little princess. And you know what I do to spoiled princesses when they’re stubborn?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you get your filthy hands off them and go away? But I guess that’s wishful thinking.”

He’s still smiling and he shakes his head. “No, Daley. I spank filthy fucking princesses and fuck their soaking cunts until they scream.”

“Wait, hold on, spank—”

He whips his hand back and smacks it against my ass. I gasp in surprise. It doesn’t hurt too bad—he’s spanking me through my shorts—but it still stings.

More than that, it’s humiliating. This grown man is spanking me in my childhood tree house, punishing me like I’m his to discipline. Like I’m his at all.

“I think you liked that,” he says softly and does it again, harder this time. I grunt in surprise and he’s right; it hurts and it tingles, and my pussy’s a needy mess, my muscles flexing and pulsing deep in my core.

He grabs the hem of my shorts and starts to peel them off.

“Wait,” I say, wiggling my ass. “Hold on.” I start to let go of the diary—

He reaches down to grab it away. I grunt and redouble my hold on it, hugging it closer, and he laughs as he finishes peeling off my shorts.

Leaving only my black lacy thong and my bare ass cheeks exposed to the sunlight.

“Oh, Daley,” he says. “Look at this.” He practically groans the words. His obvious excitement sends another sharp pulse of desire into my stomach. I try to fight it, try to tell myself that I hate this man, but my body isn’t interested in what my head’s telling it.

“You’re such an asshole. This is humiliating. You know that, right?”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. Look at this beautiful ass. Round and firm and fucking lovely.” He leans down, gripping my hair hard, and bites my ass cheek enough to make it hurt. I yelp, and he licks it, kissing softly, and spanks my bare ass hard, one quick thwack that echoes against the trees.

I moan, wiggling my hips in the air. The bite, the spank, it’s making my head pulse with delight. The embarrassment’s beginning to fade, replaced with something deeper, darker, more carnal. It’s filthy, like back in that subway closet, but somehow worse.

“You get off on this, don’t you,” I say through gritted teeth. “You like driving me crazy. You just want to treat me like shit and punish me for all those years I thought you were a murderer.”

“Damn right I get off on this,” he says, spanking me again, hard. I gasp, head thrown back. My grip on the diary nearly loosens, but I manage to hold on to it again before he can grab it away. “I get off on your perky ass. I get off on your moans and your orgasm and the taste of your dripping pussy. Yeah, little princess, I get off on this. You’re goddamn right I do.”

He spanks me again, and again, and my head’s buzzing as he shoves my panties aside and rolls his fingers along my dripping folds. I moan as pleasure invades my skull, blowing me up like dynamite. He finds my clit and teases it before spanking me again, and I’m on fire. I’m burning up. I’m shaking my ass and moaning and begging for him to keep going.

But his hand pulls back and something unzips. He takes out his cock, so long and thick, and pulls my hair back. I gasp as he presses it into my mouth, shoving it deep. I moan, tasting his precum, rolling my tongue around his tip, and he spanks me again, hard. I’m tearing up as he fucks my pussy with his fingers, sliding them in, all soaking wet and slick, then spanks me again, and I’m sucking him faster now, the diary almost entirely forgotten in the utter ecstasy of his cock in my mouth while he spanks and fucks me.

I manage to hold on to the book, but I don’t think he’s trying for it anymore. His eyes are burning with lust as he grips my hair and fucks my face. He spanks my ass, and I know I’ll have a bruise the shape of his palm when this is over, and I yearn for it. I want to see it marking me in the mirror. He slides his fingers in deep, fucking me with them, finding my G-spot and sending me over the edge.

I come with his cock in my mouth. I come so hard it’s like the world dims and goes sideways, but when I try to pull back he buries himself deeper, sliding himself into my throat. I nearly choke, and the orgasm doubles, triples, forcing me to finally release the diary and let it drop to the wood beneath.


Tags: B.B. Hamel Romance