deep in my belly.
Without warning, he spanks my ass once, hard. I gasp and jump against him, but with his other hand, he pins me in place, holding me down across his legs.
“Count,” he says, as his hand comes down again in another sharp slap.
“One,” I gasp. The pain is sharp, stinging, but not unpleasant. It makes me even wetter, imagining how else he’ll punish me. What else he wants to make me do.
He spanks me again, and I count it. We keep going like that, until we get to five and both of my ass cheeks are burning, my whole body alight with the sensation. Then, abruptly, he stops, and starts to massage my ass again.
It feels different now, the spanking making my skin sensitive as hell. His rough, strong hands working across the now-stinging skin makes it twice as sensitive, the pleasure even sharper in contrast to the pain before.
“Are you ready to obey me now?” he murmurs, and I turn my head to catch his eye, savoring the hungry, lustful glint I find there.
It turns me on so fucking much, to see how much he wants me. “Yes,” I whisper.
“Good.” He grins and stands, pulling me to my feet beside him. I don’t expect it so suddenly, and with all the different sensations still rushing through my body, it takes me a second to get steady on my feet. “Now drop those panties.”
I push them over my hips. Let them fall to the floor in a puddle.
He glances down at them, smirking. “Wet for me already, dirty girl?”
“What can I say?” I bat my eyes. “You know how to turn me on.”
He laughs again and spreads his arms wide. “Your turn,” he says, lifting his eyebrows, almost in a challenge. “Undress me.”
I pull his shirt off first. Then I have to pause, because the sight of these perfectly carved muscles up close is distracting as hell. I run my hands across his chest, and dip my head to kiss my way along his collarbone, while I trace my fingers along his abs, then slowly down the V that points directly to his groin.
“And try not to get too distracted along the way,” he adds with a smirk.
I grin back at him and undo the clasp of his jeans. I inch them down his thighs and take a second on the way down to the floor to eye his muscular legs. Damn, even his thighs and calves are toned as hell. He steps out of the jeans, casting them aside with the rest of our clothes, and I stand back up, only his boxers between us now. The cool air in his apartment feels even colder now, and I shiver a little, tightening my legs. My pussy is already so wet, so the chill isn’t helping. I want nothing more than to pull him against me, wrap myself in his warm body. But he’s watching me with that smirk still, his eyelids lowered, expression dangerous. He didn’t say I could touch him, not yet. Not aside from removing his clothes.
So, I hook the band of his boxers with one finger, and slowly, slowly tug those down next.
When his cock springs free, I can’t help but gasp in appreciation. God damn he is huge. And it looks so much thicker in person, so much more tantalizing—and somehow intimidating, all at the same time. Because hell, looking at him right now, I find myself wondering whether he really will fit or not.
Fuck if I don’t want to find out, though.
"Lie back," he says, and he casts a glance at the couch beside us. I lift an eyebrow at him, still smiling. He just waits, patiently, until I obey.
I step back and start to bend over the couch, but he catches my shoulder. Slides a hand down across my chest to circle my nipple with his fingers.
"Not like that," he says. "Lie backwards across it."
I turn around slowly, eyes locked on his. Then I lean backward over the edge of the couch, until my head hits the pillows behind me and my legs are spread. The arm of the couch digs into my ass, pushes my hips straight up into the air.
Apparently that's what he was going for.
Zayne kneels between my knees and grasps them in both hands. In one swift motion, he shoves my legs apart, baring me to the world. I shiver again, as the cool air of his apartment hits my wet, exposed pussy.
He smirks up at me.