I can’t get ahead of myself, ahead of her.
“Answer me.” I make my voice hard as I plunge into her silky heat.
She moans, her knuckles turning white as they curl around the edge of the seat. “Mason.”
I press hard and high, stroking her G-spot, increasing my pressure until she trembles. Her hips buck, and to my surprise, her inner muscles clamp down on my fingers. I slow my pace, changing my pressure on her clit until it’s barely more than a tease. “No orgasms for you yet, girl.”
She makes a low, annoyed sound. Her eyes snap open, and she cranes her neck, peering over one smooth ivory shoulder to shoot me a dark glare.
She’s always required meticulous care to bring to orgasm, so to find her on the brink and greedy enough to make silent demands is an unexpected pleasure.
I raise a stern brow and look down at her, fighting the grin twitching at the corners of my lips. “Did you just glare at me?”
If anything, her gaze grows more defiant, her chin tilting. Then she does the damnedest, most distinctly un-Anna thing. She circles her hips in my direction, ass moving in a seductive sway.
She’s trying to entice me.Well, isn’t this a fun surprise.
I let a smirk grow before straightening to cross my arms, observing her passively.
Another swivel of lush hips has her eyes going dark, and I know the edge of the bench brushed over her clit. Mesmerized, I watch as the realization of the loophole gleams bright. Barely containing my chuckle, I watch the tug of her sly smile. She thinks she’s discovered something I failed to notice.
Ah, the thrill of inexperience.
The bench has been designed with that in mind, but it amuses me to let her have her fantasy. She’ll learn soon enough that not much gets by me. And her mischief delights me.
She looks at me with cocky daring and gives me another tempting wiggle.
She doesn’t know it, but it’s exactly the sign I need. It forces me to stop thinking, stop worrying. Part of what makes me good at this, what I love, is instinct. Something I’ve been largely ignoring with Anna since I met her. And right now, instinct tells me I had a defiant little sub on my hands who needs to be set straight about who has the power.
So, like Anna, I give in to this experience. I let it all go. I unleash that ruthless part of me that demands her to be begging and helpless, unable to think, a slave to her own needs, and at my complete mercy.
Palm itching, I slap her ass. Hard. The crack reverberates around the room.
She jerks forward, gasping.
I laugh, a cold, evil sound that has the defiance draining right out of her.
I smack the other cheek, pleased at the color blooming over her pale skin. “Are you going to answer me? Or should I continue?”
She grasps the sides of the bench, peering around at me as though she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.
I smack her again.
She winces, letting out a hiss. “Ouch!”
“Now, Anna.” And again.
Her knuckles whiten, creating a stark contrast against the black leather. “That hurts.”
I dip my fingers into her pussy, gathering her wetness and smearing it on the inside of her thigh before delivering another loud slap. “Feels good too, doesn’t it?”
Another hard whack has her jerking, her forehead falling against the bench. “God, Mason…”
She trails off when I rain blows from her ass to her inner thighs.
When my palm starts to burn, I rest it on the curve of one rosy cheek and struggle to get my breathing under control. I’m impossibly hard, almost painfully so, as I watch the rapid rise and fall of her ribs. Her lids flutter, and she casts a furtive glance in my direction, shifting her pelvic bone and pressing her clit against the seat. Her hips circle, and she moans, soft and low.
My sweet, innocent Anna has been brought to the point of needy lust by a spanking. It’s adorable. I stand by and let her work herself up, amused by her display. She’s taking to this quite well.