But only after a round of discipline.
When I pulled away, I immediately yanked her up with me as I shifted into a sitting position, pulling her across my lap.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
“Giving you a well-deserved spanking for ignoring my command.” I yanked up her dress, issuing several hard smacks, moving from one side to the other.
She moaned and wiggled, clawing at the sand in an effort to get off my lap, but I kept my hold firm, cracking my palm against her rounded bottom time after time.
“You don’t own me,” she moaned with zero conviction in her voice.
“That’s where you’re wrong,gatita. You agreed to a contract. Now, you’ll abide by all the terms of our agreement or face stiff consequences.”
Her pussy lips were swollen, glistening in the sunlight. I couldn’t resist rolling my finger down the crack of her ass, flicking it back and forth across her tender tissue. My mind was awash with the vision of fucking her like the animal I was. Little did she know what I had in store for her. My filthy thoughts were twisted, my needs building to a precipice that would likely consume us both. But I was free, untethered from the chains of running a brutal organization. Unshackled from the harsh reality of my existence. And unhinged, enough so all I could think about was devouring her.
Night after delicious night.
“Ouch! That hurts,” she squealed, almost able to slide off my lap. As I yanked her against me, my stiff cock pressing against her stomach, she threw her head over her shoulder, her mouth pursed and her long eyelashes skimming across her glistening cheeks as she blinked furiously.
“An intelligent woman like yourself should know that discipline is supposed to hurt in order to achieve positive results.”
“Bastard.”
Her hateful word pushed a grin across my face.
I continued the spanking, doing everything I could to control my natural tendencies.
We had all night to explore our wildest desires. This was just the beginning.
Within seconds, she was panting, her yelps of pain turning into moans of pleasure.
And dear God, I wanted her even more.
CHAPTER16
“Sex is more than an act of pleasure, it’s the ability to be able to feel so close to a person, so connected, so comfortable that it’s almost breathtaking to the point you feel you can’t take it. And at this moment you’re a part of them.”
—Thom York
Sierra
Alessandro Montenegro evoked passion, raw and sizzling to the point that my heart was beating so rapidly, it was like the muscle was attempting to escape. When I looked at his hands, I realized they were skillful, mastering the art of teasing and probing, often rough then shifting to a tenderness that left me tingling all over. Every time I heard his voice, the dark, rich tone sending a sweeping softness of velvet dancing against my skin, filthy images tiptoed through my mind. And his kiss could be subtle in its power, changing almost instantly into a crazed, intense need that refused to be denied.
He had the ability to garner my rapt attention just by walking into the room where I was standing, his chest heaving as he inhaled my scent. And those were the moments I could read his mind, accepting and hungering for all the vile, dirty things he was determined to do.
And to take.
He wanted all of me.
He’d made that perfectly clear during the three days I’d spent at his house, hours tangled in his sheets.
I dragged my tongue across my lips, my nipples aching from the thought of the last time he’d kissed me, which had only been an hour before. It seemed like longer, an eternity, and I continued to find that strangely attractive as well as terrifying. How had he broken through every barrier so quickly? How had I fallen into a seductive trap so powerful that I could no longer see a single escape?
As I stared out the window, fixated on the vibrant colors dancing across the horizon, visions of the man popped into my mind. Then I sensed his presence as I always did, a trickle of searing heat coursing through me.
As I turned around, his nostrils flared instantly, the look in his eyes carnivorous, a predator ready to devour a prize from a long day’s hunt. Then he locked eyes with mine, his gaze steely, in full command of the moment and the woman he called his obsessive possession.
At first I’d hated the term, denying that he had that kind of control over me. And now? I wasn’t certain who I was any longer. While it made no sense and wouldn’t to outsiders, the power of his method of seduction had lingering effects. Words stated what seemed to be a lifetime ago had imbedded themselves in my mind, a patient reminder that he’d begun to unravel me the very first night.