Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
“Do you have any idea,” he mused, “how much concentration it takes to stay calm while all I can smell is how badly your pussy wants filling?”
He nipped again and Verity’s whole body shook. Was it possible to come from this alone?
“Do you?” he asked again, and Verity shook her head.
“How?” she gasped.
“How what?”
“How can I make it up to you?”
He leaned back, surveying her, then climbed off. She felt bare without him. Exposed and wanting. When she reached for the hard bulge of his cock he stepped back, just out of reach.
“Are you going to tell me to stop?” he asked.
“No.”
Verity had no idea what he planned but from the way he removed his cufflinks and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt she had a couple of ideas.
“Wrong answer,” he said, removing and tossing his tie to one side and putting his hands in his pockets.
His pale skin was near-glowing, eyes black with lust. His dark hair had become messy and the mischievous grin on his face made him look younger.
He had never looked so handsome. “Are you going to tell me to stop?”
“Coin?” she asked. Was he asking for a safe word?
His grin turned pure feral predator, wide and vicious. “That’ll work.”
Grabbing her by the front of her dress, he yanked Verity to her feet, dragged her across the room and pushed her against the desk. His kiss was bruising, months of composure fracturing on her tongue. But too soon he pulled away.
Before she could complain he spun her, forcing her face down on the desk. One hand claimed her wrists again, holding them against her back and pushing her bare breasts to the cold polished wood. His other hand pulled up the skirt of her dress, exposing her.
A finger skirted the lace of her underwear, following the trim towards her core and Verity spread her legs, eager for him to seek out the wetness he had created. If this was to make them even, then she would gladly pay the price.
The loud crack of his hand against her arse was almost as shocking as the harsh sting that buckled her knees. She whimpered as he stroked the sore cheek. Gentle, loving touches inched closer to her sex again until his hand vanished and Verity’s body tensed.
Crack. She cried out that time. Maybe she did with the first slap, but she couldn’t be sure.
For a moment she felt nothing. From the angle he held her down she couldn’t see his face, didn’t know what he was doing.
The third spank was entirely unexpected. A blinding sting spread to her core, making her cry sound more like a moan.
“Stand up for me, angel,” Theo murmured. As she found her footing Theo slid a finger into her waistband and dragged her underwear down her legs. “Step,” he instructed, removing them completely then placing them in front of her face. “You see what I have to put up with?”
They were soaked; Verity didn’t need to look to know.
“That’s your fault,” she said, and he slapped her again.
“Stand,” he demanded when her legs gave out.
His foot slid between hers, widening her stance as he stroked the sore cheek.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
She didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want him to stop. But she couldn’t lie either. Whatever game this was, she knew lying wouldn’t go down well.
“I can make it better, if you can’t…”
“No.”
“No?”
“Make us even.”
The hand holding her down yanked her to standing.
Holding her to him, he pulled her face towards his.
She almost choked on his kiss. Hard and invasive.
Hands pinching her breasts as his hips trapped her against the desk.
She tasted blood, trying to keep up with his kiss until he pushed her back down again.
The moment her chest hit the table he bombarded her backside with a flurry of blows. Short and sharp. Over and over. Until her hands fisted where he held them and tears pooled beneath her face. Each time her knees gave over, he told her to stand again and resumed.
The pain wasn’t the same as a bite, but at his hand it was almost as glorious. Her head swam, eyes rolling as her body shook.
“Can you stand?” he asked, when the tremble of her legs would no longer hold her weight. "Does it hurt?”
“Yes,” she gasped. Although she wasn’t sure anymore.
The sting had turned from pain to sweet agony, white hot to the point of numbness.
Her body told her it hurt. Her shaking legs and panting breaths told her it hurt.
The dripping lust running down her thighs told her she was insane. But the lust was all she could hear.
Theo’s fingers caressed the tender skin, until a point of blissful relief blossomed, following his finger. Cool and soothing and… wet.
“Did you just spit on me?”
An answer he spat again, but where her cheeks met. She tensed as the cool bead rolled down, over her arsehole and joined her wet heat.
“Is that a problem?” he asked, placing his finger where the bead had landed and following the trail. Breaths grew short when he reached her entrance, but instead of giving her what she needed, he retraced the path, sliding his finger back up again.
“Theo,” she gasped. “Please.”
He hummed. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided if we’re even yet.”
“Please,” she begged when he slid back down again, stopping a whisper short of where she needed him.
“For months you’ve tested me. Do you think this makes us fair?”
“You tested me too.”
“Not the same.”
“Why?” she gasped, moaning when he spat again.
“Because I’m in control, remember? I could have pinned you to this desk whenever I wanted.”
Verity wanted to argue, but it was true. Even in her lust-drunk mind she knew that if she tried to seduce him, he would have been a gentleman. But if he had tried, she would have spread her legs and begged for more.
“So,” he asked, “do you think we’re even?”
“Part payment?” she asked, finally finding her feet again and rocking her hips into his hand.
Theo chuckled. “I guess that could work.”
“Yeah?” she asked.