Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Lily
“Over,” he says. His voice is quiet, but it holds a new, dangerous edge, the kind when you’ve disappointed someone. It makes my stomach clench with a mixture of dread and a dark, thrilling anticipation.
I scramble to obey, rolling onto my stomach.
His hands grab my hips and lift me up onto my hands and knees again, presenting my ass to him while my face is buried in a pillow.
I feel the softness of his hand running over my skin, a gentle, almost caressing touch that does nothing to soothe the frantic beating of my heart.
“You came,” he states. It’s not a question. “You think I’m bluffing when I say I’ll make your cheeks bleed?”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, the words muffled by the pillow.
“No, you’re not.”
The first slap lands on my right ass cheek, sharp and stunning.
The sound echoes in the quiet room, followed immediately by a blossoming, stinging heat.
I cry out, more from surprise than pain.
Before I can process it, another slap lands on the left cheek, then another on the right.
He’s not hitting me hard enough to truly injure, but he’s hitting me hard enough to make a point.
The sting is intense, a sharp, focused pain that melts into a deep, throbbing warmth.
He establishes a rhythm, a steady, punishing cadence of smacks that rocks my whole body forward with each impact.
My skin is on fire, every nerve ending screaming.
But something else is happening. With each stinging slap, a fresh jolt of electricity shoots straight to my clit.
The pain is blurring, twisting into something else, something dark and delicious.
My pussy, still slick from my orgasm, clenches with every slap—a desperate, empty ache.
I’m moaning now, but the sounds are different.
They’re not sounds of pain. They’re sounds of mounting, shameful pleasure.
The spanking stops as suddenly as it began.
His hand rests on my flaming skin, the coolness of his palm a shocking contrast to the heat.
I’m panting, my body trembling, right on the edge.
I can feel another orgasm building, this one tighter, more intense, coiled deep in my core.
It’s right there. I’m so close I can taste it.
I push back against his hand, a silent, desperate plea.
“That’s all you got?” I breathe, the word barely audible.
He chuckles, a low, dark sound that makes my skin prickle. “We are just getting started.”
His other hand moves between my legs, his fingers finding my swollen, dripping clit. He barely touches me, just a light, teasing circle, but it’s enough. It’s more than enough. The coil inside me snaps. I’m falling, soaring, right over the edge—
And his fingers vanish.
I cry out, a raw, frustrated sound that’s half-sob. The orgasm that was just seconds away recedes, leaving me hanging in a torturous state of suspended delirium. My body is screaming for release, a physical, painful need. My pussy pulses, clenching around nothing.
He starts again. A few more sharp slaps on my sensitive ass, reigniting the fire. Then a rampage of spanks, one more violent than the next. My hard nipples brush against the fabric of the sofa, only fueling the need to have him inside me.
His fingers return to my clit, circling, teasing, building me back up, higher and higher this time. I’m frantic, a mindless, writhing thing. I can’t think, can’t breathe, can only feel. I’m right there, teetering on the brink again, my entire body tensed for the release I crave so desperately.
And again, he pulls away.
This time, a broken sob escapes my lips. It’s too much. The pleasure, the denial, the burning need. It’s an agony. My composure shatters completely.
“Please!” I sob, pushing my ass back, trying to find his hand, his touch, anything. “Killian, please! I’ll do anything. Please, let me come. I need to come. Please, I’m begging you. I’m begging you, please, let me come. I’ll be so good, I swear, just please, fuck, please let me come…”
The words spill out of me, a torrent of desperate, filthy begging. I’m completely broken, lost to the overwhelming, all-consuming need for his permission, for his release. I am begging for dear life.
“You come when I say,” he barks.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” I plead.
Bracing myself for the next round of spanks, I gasp as he plunges right inside me.
The world has narrowed to the slick, rhythmic slide of Killian’s dick inside my pussy.
I’m on my hands and knees, the cushion bunched up under my clenched fingers.
Each thrust drives a deep, guttural sound from my throat, a sound I don’t recognize as my own.
His hands grip my hips, possessive and strong, pulling me back to meet him, setting a pace that’s stealing my breath.
The only things that exist are the stretch of my body around his thick cock, the sweat-slicked skin of his thighs slapping against the back of mine, and the coiling, white-hot knot of pleasure tightening deep in my belly.
“Don’t disobey me again, Liliana,” he grunts, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through my entire body. “Or this will be the last time you get my dick inside of you.”
I try. I really do. I focus on the texture of the leather under my cheek, on the scent of him mixed with the raw, primal smell of our fucking.
But the pressure is building, an unstoppable tide.
His cock head brushes that perfect, sensitive spot inside me with every pass, and my vision starts to blur at the edges.
My thighs begin to tremble, a tell-tale sign I can’t control.
The knot in my stomach pulls tighter, tighter, until I feel like I’m going to snap.
I remember the rule. Wait for permission.
A whimper escapes my lips when he pulls out of me in one slow, deliberate movement. The sudden emptiness is a shock.
I look over my shoulder and see his bandage is full of blood. Killian sits on the sofa, his cock hard as a board, curving to the side. But he didn’t stop from the pain; he stopped to make a point. He doesn’t want me to come at all.
Sliding off the sofa, I pick the chain up with my mouth and crawl it over to him.
He holds out his hand for him to take it, and when I place it in his hand, he tugs for me to get in between his legs.
He doesn’t need to tell me what he wants me to do, and I’m going to show him just how good my mouth is.