Broken by His Hand - Piper Stone Page 0,35

had when he’d spanked me. This was... “Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh.”

Michael continued plunging in slow and even strokes, yet forceful enough he pushed me against the desk. I was surprised when the anguish slowly morphed into a wave of pleasure, my muscles no longer spasming. When he gave my bottom two hard smacks, several moans escaped my lips.

Seconds later, I felt the pressure of his cockhead pressing against my puckered hole. He took his time sliding inside an inch at a time.

“Fuck. God!” I dug my nails into the cool wood, stars floating in front of my eyes.

“Breathe for me, sweet girl. That’s it.” When he was fully seated inside, he took a series of deep breaths before pulling almost all the way out, slamming into me again.

Stars floated in front of my eyes, every one of them vibrant and bright. I was suddenly floating, my mind a complete blur as he fucked me. Every sensation was dazzling, every jolt of electricity further fueling the flames as pleasure rolled through me.

“God damn, woman. You are so tight. I could fuck you for hours. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” I managed, keeping my eyes closed as the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in my ears. Even the fact he’d kept his clothes on seemed that much more sinful. The pressure was intense but oh-so delicious.

“Yes?” he barked, cracking my bottom with four brutal strikes of his hand.

“Yes, sir.”

“You will learn. One day.”

I licked my lips as he continued, every thrust rougher than the one before, his guttural sounds reminding me of a true savage. When his breathing became even more ragged, I knew he was close to coming. Smiling, I did the only thing I could do.

I squeezed, clamping down like a tight vise.

As he threw his head back and roared, I could swear the entire building would be able to hear his animalistic cries.

Michael crowded over me, planting his hands on either side, his cock still firmly planted inside. The feel of his hot breath cascading across my skin was invigorating, the way he ground his hips against me just as controlling as everything else he’d done.

“You are such a little brat,” he said, laughing softly. “Now, you’re going to remain right there. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Better.”

When he eased back, he raked his nails down the length of my back, forcing me to shiver all over again. I turned my head, watching as he walked around the desk. He let out an exaggerated exhale when he noticed the dog bones on the floor, the look on his face riddled with anger. I was surprised when he purposely walked through them, the crunching sound as they were turned into crumbs floating toward me.

What the hell was that about? Somehow, I knew better than to ask him.

He went to the same cabinet where he’d retrieved the godawful leather strap. Even thinking about the implement forced butterflies into my stomach.

“There are many methods of training a submissive. The introduction of various types of pain in order to achieve pleasure. The interaction of control mechanisms when not engaged in certain activities. Even disallowing pleasure of any kind. I think we’ll start with the toy that you seem to have an aversion to.”

I should have known he’d have a collection of butt plugs and other horrible implements stored in his cabinet. For about a dozen reasons, the aversion turned into repulsion, but more because my mind couldn’t get over the inkling that he’d done this to several women before. Maybe dozens. How would I know? My thoughts drifted to everything Clarissa had said. He was private, refusing to enjoy arm candy. Could I learn to trust him?

I bit back any sound as he approached, the bright red plug like something out of a horror movie.

“While I would normally use lubricant, the fact your beautiful bottom leaks my cum means it will be slick enough,” he said with a smile on his face.

He was going to force me to keep his cum inside me.

Dirty girl. Dirty girl. Dirty girl.

A wave of apprehension as well as embarrassment rushed through me. Why? Because it sounded filthy and delicious, as if we were keeping a little secret just between us.

“I’ve never... I mean I don’t...” Why were the words so difficult to say? I was a highly educated, intelligent woman who was having difficulty putting coherent sentences together. That was ridiculous.

“You’ll learn and your training needs to start somewhere.”

He said the words so casually, as if it