Always My Babygirl A Billionaire Romance - Jane Henry Page 0,14
didn’t wear panties,” I scold.
She shakes her head, seemingly unable to speak. She’s boneless beneath me, speechless as I stroke my fingers through her soaked pussy.
“I never do,” she whispers.
I shake my head and cluck my tongue. “Naughty little girl. I’ll have to spank you for that. Someone ought to feel my palm good and hard for being so naughty.”
“Is that a rule? The no panties thing?”
She gives me a look that dares me to take this to where we both know we’re going.
“It is now.”
She moans. She likes that.
I stroke her again, relishing the feel of her shaved pussy and damp folds, as she arches her back and jerks her hips for more. I lower my mouth to her breast and bite her straight through the fabric.
“God,” she groans. “That feels so good.”
“Part your legs.”
She obeys, and her legs part enough for me to stroke her more fully. I circle her clit and suckle her neck, as she moans and her breathing hitches. When I feel she’s on the edge of coming, I take my hand away.
“No,” she moans.
I take my finger and place it in my mouth. Christ, I want to taste her for real.
“Your first time coming for me won’t be like this.”
“Coming… for you?” she asks. “You’ve hired me as your escort, sir. You’re supposed to…”
“Do whatever the hell I want.”
She grins wickedly and nods.
“Yes, sir.”
“Take off your clothes, please.”
I can see how she swallows, her hand at her neck again, trying to keep herself calm. She stands and makes quick work of removing her clothing. They fall onto the floor. She looks at me with wide, curious eyes, as I let my gaze roam over her.
The gentle slope of her shoulders and slight curve of her belly. Her breasts are full and pert with lovely strawberry-colored nipples I want to suckle, but this time with nothing between us. Her waist narrows then flares to perfect hips and voluptuous thighs.
Her hand hovers over her side. Hiding.
I want to see, to know all of her. “Put your hands down by your side.”
A flash of pain shoots through her gaze. She breaks our gaze, her eyes lowering with her hand. There’s a circular silver scar on the side of her abdomen. Obviously, an old injury and one she doesn’t want to dwell on. I ignore it.
“You’re breathtaking. Beautiful.”
Her gaze reaches mine once more. “Thank you.”
“Stand right there in front of me,” I order, as I pour myself another scotch. “I want you to touch yourself.”
“Sir?”
“Now.”
She stands in front of me and gently lowers her fingers to her pussy.
“I can’t,” she whispers.
I shake my head, as if it pains me to have to pronounce what I do, but I’ve been waiting for an excuse for this.
“That’s not the correct answer.” I slide my drink onto a coaster, and reach for the cuff of my sleeve. My eyes on hers, I roll up first one, then the other. I can hear the way her breathing shallows, and see the way her pupils dilate.
When one sleeve is rolled up, I reach for the second, then I pat my knee.
“Come here, please. Lie over my lap for your spanking.”
Chapter Six
Miranda
“I… I can’t do that either.” Goosebumps rise on my flesh. Shame, humiliation, and failure wash over me. There’s no way in hell I can cross this room and lay myself over his lap.
Not that I don’t want to. I do. A part of me is dying to know what it’s like to be spanked. I can already imagine my belly pressed over his knee. Then what’s my issue? I’m the owner of the fucking escort service. In business, a freaking sex goddess. And I can’t force myself to do any of the things he’s asked me.
He gives me a hard look. “You can, and you will, young lady, or this gets a lot more serious.”
His hands go to the buckle of his belt. The muscles of his perfect forearm ripple, visible to me beneath the cuff of his perfectly rolled up sleeve.
He wants to spank me with a belt? My knees go to jelly. “You don’t mean?”
“Yes. I do. I’m going to count to five and if you aren’t laid over my lap, you’ll have a taste of my belt striped across your perfect ass.”
I don’t know what’s more terrifying. Pleasuring myself as he watches. Putting myself over his lap to be spanked. Or being whipped by his belt. I can hardly think straight.