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Bobby winks. Damn. He’s so hot. I seriously don’t see why someone hasn’t locked him down yet. Maybe because he won’t let it happen.

“One more rule. The most important one.” He holds my gaze with an intensity that makes my belly flip. “You don’t talk about me to anyone. You don’t tell your friends or anyone else when I come or when I go. Not what I say. Not what we do. Not anything. Understand?”

I swallow. He said he’s not a thug, but whatever he does definitely isn’t legal. “Yes.”

“Breaking any of my rules will get you punished.”

Um…punished?My ass clenches at the threat. I draw in a breath, hardly daring to ask. “Punished, how?”

One corner of his mouth lifts, and I catch a wicked gleam in his eye. “Spanked. Whipped. Tied up and fucked hard. Put on your knees and gagged with my cock.” He raises a brow. “Do you consent to that?”

My nipples get hard. I let out a nervous laugh. I expected him to saywhacked. Maybe I’ve watched too many oldSopranosepisodes. But Bobby Manghini has a kinky side, it seems. No wonder he prefers anarrangement–calling the shots is part of his kink. The idea of his asserting his authority over me with physical punishment doesn’t dim his appeal. Not one bit.

“Yes,” I say.

His lips curve, and his gaze is warm on me. “Do we have a deal?”

I nod. “Deal.”

In a flash, he pulls my blouse up over my head and backs me against a barstool. He moves in for a kiss at the same time his fingers work the buttons on my designer jeans. He attacks my lips with his–tongue demanding entry as he kisses and sucks.

Heat suffuses my body. I stand on my tiptoes, one arm around his neck, trying to keep up with the onslaught. He has my jeans down in record time, giving me no chance to feel shy about stripping in front of the giant glass window overlooking the city lights.

“Lexi, you’re so hot,” he murmurs, straightening and cupping one breast while his other hand holds my nape.

Hearing my name and his appreciation makes my pussy clench with excitement. He slides his hand inside my bra and rubs my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I arch into him, breathless.

Settling his hands on my hips, he murmurs, “jump”. When I do, he picks me up and sits me on the countertop, where he spreads my knees and pulls my panties to the side. I jerk when his tongue meets my pussy, the shock of sensation making me throw my head back and moan. I fall back onto my forearms, closing my eyes and squirming under his ministrations.

I love having my pussy licked, but it never makes me come. Bobby twists two fingers inside me, stroking my inner wall, then pumping, but I still can’t crest the peak. In general, I have a hard time orgasming with a partner, which is why I questioned his cockiness last night.

He pulls me down from the counter and leads me to the sofa, where he bends me over the padded arm. After sliding my panties down to my thighs, he shocks me with a sharp slap on my ass. I gasp and try to stand, but he holds me down with a hand at my low back, continuing to spank my bare ass with the flat of his hand. The slaps sound loud, and the initial impact makes me jerk, but the sting doesn’t set in for a few moments. When it does, I begin to buck, trying to convey I’ve had enough. I’ve never been spanked before—during sex or otherwise—and damn, it’s a little intense!

He gives me four more hard swats then grips the cheek of my ass and squeezes. “Mmm…this is delicious.”

I moan, the fire not just on the surface of my ass but burning inside me. I want him–want completion–with a desperation I’ve never before felt.

“Please…” I plead. My heart thuds with the excitement of it all–sex with a near stranger, the proposed sugar daddy arrangement, and the dominant way Bobby handles me.

I hear the crinkle of a wrapper and the snap of a condom. He pushes into me easily–I must be wetter than the ocean right now.

Drunk with need, my eyelids flutter as he holds my hips and pounds into me. When he twists both my arms behind my back as if restraining me—as if taking me by force rather than invitation—I shatter, bucking. My muscles contract around his cock in endless waves until he makes a guttural sound and slams into me, shooting his load.

Dazed, I collapse in a boneless mass, my face buried in the soft cushions. I hardly notice Bobby pull out or move until he pulls me up and turns me around, scooping under my knees and shoulders to carry me to a large, beautifully appointed bedroom.

I wrap my arms around his neck and mumble, “Okay, you were right about the sex.”

He chuckles, a warm rumbling in his chest. “I’m always right. Even if I’m wrong.” He winks.

I laugh. “You’re the boss.”

“Good girl.” He lays me down on the bed. The two words wrap around me like a blanket, swaddling in the pleasure. I’m a pleaser by nature, and Bobby’s not hard to please. I don’t have to guess at what he wants, don’t have to try to perform. He takes care of everything–tells me clearly what he wants from me and what to do, taking charge of my body. Moving me, positioning me, restraining me, spanking me. Praising me when I accept it all. Who knew pleasure is a boss to surrender to.

I roll to my back and blink up at him, admiring the sleek lines of his muscular torso, imagining what he looks like naked. Before tonight, I had no idea I would react to a spanking or being handled roughly, but that was the fastest I’ve ever come to orgasm in my life. So effortless. Did he see something in me I missed my entire adult life?

“So...about that. I know people get spanky during sex and all, but what made you think I would like it?”

He crawls over me, smirking. “I didn’t. It’s just whatIwanted to do.”


Tags: Renee Rose Erotic