The Naughty Stuff(17)

A slow smile spread across Tucker’s face. Lilliana was something else. Her mouth never failed to irritate and entertain him.

“Good. Now get over here so I can taste you,” he pointed at the bed.

Lilliana opened her mouth and Tucker was positive it was to give him more of her brand of sarcasm.

“Before you speak, I should warn you: my palm is still itching to give you more.”





From The Art of Submission





Heated Exchange


Dylan

“You don’t get to tell me to stop, Mr. Young. I haven’t signed anything yet.”

Isabel is trying to sound convincing, but this time her voice cracks just a little.

“Don’t take one more step towards those paintings, Isabel. Don’t.” I can feel my temper gaining the upper hand and my alter ego is threatening to make an appearance.

In defiance, she steps backwards, closer to the paintings; just one step, then one more. I feel myself heating with aggravation and arousal.

“Don’t do it,” I repeat, my voice betraying my fury.

It’s so absurd that we’re arguing over this. It’s like we’ve divorced and we’re battling over custody of our three children. She does it one more time, one more step backwards towards the paintings, her eyes never leaving mine. She reaches a hand up to grab one, slowly.

“So help me God, if you touch those paintings Isabel, I’ll take you over my knee. And this time I really will, contract or not. You’re on seriously thin ice, so don’t test me.” My anger is now on DEFCON 5 and I’m under serious threat of a meltdown.

Her eyes narrow at me, but she lowers her hand. I see her fist her hands at her sides.

“You just go ahead and try it.” Her voice is soft but indignant.

No fucking way did she just challenge me. Before I can even talk my alter ego into staying out of this, he’s taken over. I move in record speed, pulling her to me and then over to a conference chair. I’m sitting and before she knows what’s happened, I have her over my knee. My upper arm is over her back and my hand is on her shoulder holding her down; her legs are under one of mine, securing her position. She’s yelling obscenities at me and thrashing about, but her punishment has already been decided.

Before I lay claim to her ass, I ask her, “Are you sorry?”

Stunned silence from her, but she continues to thrash.

“Answer me. Say you’re sorry for the way you behaved.” My voice is louder and she thrashes even harder, but she still refuses to answer. “This is the last time I’m going to say it, Isabel. I want your apology. Now.”

“You go to hell.” Her voice is laden with contempt, but her movements have ceased.

“Then have it your way.” And with that, I proceed to spank her.



Isabel

What? Does he really intend to spank me? And then I feel it, his hand comes down hard. I feel the sting immediately and I let out a loud gasp and a scream. What in the name of Holy madness is going on here? I have to get out of here. I try to get away again, but it’s no use. He smacks my bottom again, only harder than before. This can’t be happening. Again, even harder. Oh my God. What’s happening to me? After five smacks to my left cheek, he moves to my right and begins the same sweet painful torture. But this time, it’s different. I felt the tide turning on the fourth whack. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. I can feel my pussy starting to throb. How can I be aroused? What’s wrong with me? Shit that hurts, but it also feels … so good. By the tenth spank I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to come and I will not allow it. I give in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I whisper out. Please, no more.

“Sorry for what, Isabel?” Dylan asks firmly.

Don’t make me say it. Fine. I just can’t take the pain and excitement anymore. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved.” Damn him.

He finally eases his hold on me and I immediately jump up. My arousal has turned to fury. How dare he. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore from him, he says it; the thing that sends me over the edge.

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”





From The Art of Control





Wicked Imagination


The assortment of items on the bed are confusing but titillating. My naughty boy has something up his sleeve and the look in his eyes is maddening and has my pussy soaking. Dylan moves hastily as he binds my wrists to the bed posts with his ties. Next, he moves to my ankles and places something rigid between them. I crank my head to the side to see an umbrella being fashioned into a spreader bar between my legs. How very creative of him. He loops, twists and knots the neckties around my ankles to the umbrella, making it impossible for me to close my legs.