“What the fuck do you mean by that?”
He shook his head. “And that, little girl, is a bridge too far,” he said, snatching the sheet away.
He was on her in the blink of an eye. The stranger fisted her hair and marched her into the large bath off the bedroom. She clawed at his hand but couldn’t shake it loose. Before she could process what he was about, he turned on the faucet, adjusted the temperature, and soaped up his hand. Pressing her against the vanity, he exposed her dark passage with the butt plug lodged inside. The stranger released her hair, grasped the handle of the plug and pulled it free. Arousal coursed through her system, making her gasp. Taking advantage of her opened mouth, he kept her jaws from closing, quickly and efficiently soaping the inside of her mouth, covering her cheeks, tongue, and teeth. When he was finished, he handed her a small glass of water, barely enough to rinse her mouth.
Before turning off the tap, he washed the butt plug and his hands, then dragged her back out into the sitting room. Sitting down on the sofa, the outline of a large, bulging, throbbing cock was clearly shown. She hardly had time to notice it before finding herself face down over his knee, feeling it pulse beneath her belly.
His hand descended in the first of many hard strikes to her bottom. Sage wailed in pain and outrage, but the stranger didn’t seem to notice, merely beginning a strong, steady tempo of harsh blows with his open palm. She tried to wriggle her way off his lap, but he held her fast and rained down swats that covered her backside in a wave of ever-increasing misery.
Although Sage had become known for a hero who routinely spanked the women he was intimate with, she had personally never experienced a spanking. Oh sure, she went to clubs and found being bound to a St. Andrews Cross and flogged relieved her stress and increased her libido, but she had always thought being spanked, especially over a man’s knee, too intimate, and she was right. This was arousing, intoxicating, insane, and painful. She had never felt the heat and agony spread across her ass. Most interesting was the sense of peace and contentment that came with it, as if she was being enveloped in a soft, fuzzy blanket—but that was between strikes. Every time his hand landed on her bottom, all she felt was pain.
“Shit, you bastard, that hurts,” she wailed.
“So, my pet needs her mouth washed out with soap again so soon? I suppose I was too generous letting you rinse. I won’t make that mistake again,” he calmly declared, still tattooing his displeasure all over her buttocks.
Sage gritted her teeth, then bit her lip—anything to keep him from knowing he was getting the better of her. She couldn’t believe the level of torment involved in getting spanked. The heroines in her books always stoically endured, at least until the hero used his belt or a strap. Her backside wasn’t the only thing that hurt. Her nipples had become so stiff, they begged for his attention, preferably not gentle. Her pussy literally ached to feel him inside her, thrusting in and out, stretching her inner walls, and riding her until she couldn’t walk. It felt like electricity played all across her skin, seeping into her pores to race through her entire system.
The spanking stopped, but before she could process what happened, the stranger pried apart her legs and used two fingers to penetrate her, roughly fingering her until she came, screaming and writhing on his lap.
Oh my God, please tell me I didn’t just climax from this guy’s treatment of me! Wishing was no use—she sure as hell had. She collapsed against him.
Sage allowed the stranger to help her stand, then steady her when her legs threatened to give way. She wished to God she wasn’t stripped naked—with beaded nipples, flushed skin, and a pussy still reverberating from the power of her orgasm. He acted as if he hadn’t just beat her ass, then caused her to climax from his rough fingering.
“Now, little girl, go put your nose in the corner by the fireplace,” he said calmly.
“I won’t,” she managed to say.
“You will, or you’ll get your first taste of leather. Does Daddy need to add a set of stripes to your very red bottom?”
Daddy? Where was he getting this? Didn’t he know she didn’t write Daddy Dom books? She wrote straight-up erotic romantic suspense with a heavy dose of action and adventure. How did this clown get off calling her little girl and insisting she call him Daddy? That was so not happening… but it was, leaving in its aftermath a surge of arousal that pulsed and quivered throughout her being.
Sage couldn’t quell the trembling that originated in her nether region, ran up her spine, and branched off along her nervous system. Her toes curled, and her body tensed in anticipation. She wanted and needed him in a way she couldn’t comprehend. She wanted to feel his hands exploring and touching her body, not with tender caresses, but with tugging and pinching. More than that, she wanted to feel the sizeable bulge trapped in his pants.
She wanted him to shove it inside her, powerfully thrusting in and out until she came again. His cock pushed and strained hard against his fly. She wanted to see it set free so he could part her thighs with his own and ram it to the end of her sheath. As bad as the realization was that she craved his less than gentle touch, she feared this first spanking was much like the first taste of cocaine—igniting a need for more, which would be hard to resist.
She tried to remind herself she was the victim. William, if that was even his name, had tried to garrote her. Why? What happened when she blacked out? Who
