“I should beat your ass black and blue,” he said, his words pouring liquid heat into my veins.
“Oh, she’ll be getting a spanking,” Manson said. “Why don’t you start her off?”
Jason was grinning when I turned my face toward him. Shit, I was in for it.
I had a thing for spanking, undeniably. But telling partners I liked to be spanked usually resulted in a few little smacks during sex and nothing more. It was hard to find the words to explain that I didn’t want a swat; I wanted a fully-fledged, bent over, legs kicking, doubting-my-own-endurancespanking.
Well, congratulations Jessica Martin, you got your wish in the absolute worst way possible.This spanking wasn’t for fun, it was for punishment. They intended to make me regret what I’d done, and they had the power to do it.
Vincent rested his hands on the trunk beside me. I had Jason on my right and him on my left.
“Pull your dress up,” Vincent said. I hesitated, but he leaned down and said sweetly, “Pull it up or you’re taking off everything.”
I bit my lip, teeth digging painfully into my flesh. The pain gave me something to focus on besides embarrassment as I reached down, pulling up the hem of my dress. A blush swept over my face, hot and damning. My panties were cheeky little things with scarcely more material than a thong.
Manson and Lucas stepped closer, but it was Jason I kept my eyes on. He passed his baseball bat to Manson, who swung it idly in his hand.
“Look at that cute little ass,” Jason mused. “Bubbly. I bet it bounces when you smack it.”
I was so nervous I thought I was going to burst. The dread was going to kill me. “Just spank me already!” I blurted. “I don’t need to hear your horny monologuing. I —”
Smack!
The force of his swat shocked my pride into a red alert, and it was immediately followed by more. Every slap was sharp and biting, igniting a wildfire against my ass as he swapped between cheeks, making sure each got a stinging introduction to the palm of his hand. I clenched — teeth, fists, thighs, everything. But clenching didn’t make it any easier. Jason’s pace never faltered.
“Fuck,” I growled, bringing up my arm and curling it beneath my face so I could press my mouth against it. But Vincent got his hand beneath my chin and squeezed my face, holding my head up.
“No hiding, Jess,” he said. “You wanted consequences, well, here they are. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Fantastic.” I was huffing, holding back my whimpers through sheer force of will. My core was swiftly heating, my pussy clenching despite the pain — not just despite it, butbecauseof it. It had been a few years, but damn, I’d forgotten how impossible it was to maintain any dignity during a spanking.
“Ow!” The yelp burst out of me, hands flying back in a foolish attempt to cover myself. Vincent caught my hands immediately.He held my wrists firmly against my lower back, leaving me without even a moment of reprieve.
“Do. Not. Fuck. With. My. Things.” Each of Jason’s words had a smack to emphasize it.
The moment Jason stopped, Vincent hauled me upright. He turned me, directing me toward his mangled Subaru. All his windows had been busted out, the glass shimmering around the vehicle like a sad dusting of glitter. He guided me with one hand on the nape of my neck as Manson opened the car’s passenger door.
“I believe in making the best of a bad situation,” Vincent said, his lips brushing teasingly over my ear as Manson used a rag to brush any remaining shards of glass away from the window frame. “Would I prefer to take you up to my attic and string you up from the ceiling? Absolutely. But I guess that will have to wait until the next time you throw a goddamn tantrum.”
Manson smiled at me through the open window, the baseball bat he held tapping on the ground. If it had been Alex or one of the other guys left behind, those bats would have been put to use. They would have made an example of them, a clear warning that they weren’t to be fucked with. Instead, it was only me here to take the fall.
My brain was a mess, flooded with confusing hormones, but it didn’t need to do me the cruelty of thinking about how hot the four of them wielding bats would be. Bloody beatdowns weren’t supposed to besexy.
Vincent bent me over the open window. My feet barely touched the ground, the windowsill digging into my stomach. It put my face level with Manson’s hips, with his…
God. He was hard. My mouth gaped open and closed wordlessly as he clutched himself through his jeans.
“How are we doing this, angel?” he said. Vincent shoved up my dress and gripped my stinging flesh before he dragged his nailsover me, leaving burning trails behind. “Are you going to show me you’re sorry, or am I forcing you?”
I felt like I’d been shrunk down to a minuscule size. Lucas came around the side of Subaru, bat swinging in his hand, to stand behind Manson’s shoulder. The two of them looking down at me — armed, dangerous, and furious — was even more fuel for my quivering humiliation.
I sharply sucked in a breath as Vincent smacked my ass. The swat stung as much as Jason’s, but Vincent paused before the next smack, allowing the sting to bloom and settle before he ignited it again.
“Answer Daddy Manson, Jess,” he said, the tease obvious in his voice.
The expression on my face as I struggled to keep my mouth shut must have been truly comical, because both Manson and Lucas laughed at me. The octaves of their voices in unison made my stomach do a backflip as Lucas reached around Manson’s waist and unbuckled his belt. He brought his face close to Manson’s neck as he did, his nose tracing along his flesh until he reached Manson’s ear and nipped, teeth flashing in a sudden, spontaneous bite.
Manson gave me a cocksure grin as Lucas slid the belt free. The two of them made brief eye contact, something unspoken passing between them as Lucas looped the belt around my throat. It squeezed me, not enough to stifle my breathing but more than enough to lock me into the position.