Fortune by Annabel Joseph (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📕

the swoosh of his belt as he pulled it from the loops of his jeans. Holy fuck, he was actually going to try to spank some sense into her. He was going to use his belt on her. Never in her life had anyone spanked her, not her mother or father or any man she’d ever known. She was shaking like a leaf. She had no idea what it would feel like or why she was even accepting it.

He made a low sibilant sound as if to say she shouldn’t be so scared. He backed up then and brought his belt down on her ass. Holy fucking shit. She bit her tongue in distress as the sting bloomed in her cheeks.

“I can’t do this,” she moaned, shifting on her feet.

“Yes, you can.”

He hit her again and then again, each blow a little harder than the last. It stung, it smarted, each stroke built and combined into a more and more excruciating ache, but it wasn’t the pain that was undoing her. It was the unfamiliar intimacy and the way her legs were growing weak with lust. She felt him behind her like a force, a pillar. She wanted him, wanted him more desperately than she’d ever wanted anyone in her life.

“Please, Ryan,” she sighed. She didn’t know if she was pleading with him to stop or hit her harder or take down her panties and fuck her against the wall. Another blow, and then another. She went up on her toes, her hands in fists. The hot aching sting of his belt spread like fire to her pussy. Her clit pulsed and throbbed, made her question her sanity, her perversity. Why was this turning her on so much? She tried to muffle her cries because they sounded obscene. There was no way he didn’t know, didn’t understand exactly how he was affecting her.

“Please,” she begged finally, when her ass was burning and she was so hot and wet she thought she might faint. He did stop then, but only to step closer and lift up her thin silk skirt.

“No,” she said, but it came out a tremulous plea, not the order she’d intended.

“Yes,” he replied, hooking his fingers in the waistband of her panties and slowly drawing them down to the tops of her thighs. The rough pads of his fingers traced her flaming ass cheeks. Each stroke of his fingertips sent shivery heat along her nerves until her whole body felt electrified, possessed. What was he doing to her? How could he be so calm and matter-of-fact about it? She ground her forehead against the door, using every ounce of her strength not to reach back and cover herself, yank her panties back up and turn to him and plead…for what? She was too far gone to know and more aroused than she’d ever been in her life.

“Look at me,” he said.

She shook her head. “I can’t. No.”

“Why not? Are you afraid? Hurt? You want me to stop?”

“Yes. No! I don’t know what I want.”

“Look at me,” he said again, and she turned to gaze back at him, at his impassive face, his muscular arms and the brown belt doubled over and dangling from his powerful hand. If he’d wanted to turn her on, wanted her to see him so she’d want him even more, he’d found success. He raised his arm again and she watched almost until the blow fell before she turned again and screwed her eyes shut against the door.

The pain of the belt strikes had been erotic over top of her skirt and panties. On her naked ass, it was divine. She didn’t know if she was supposed to be enjoying this or not so she tried to hide her arousal, but by this point he had to know. Her moans rose in intensity. She felt lost, trapped somewhere between pleasure and pain.

“Please,” she said again, and now she knew she was begging and what she was begging for. He knew too. She heard him draw in his breath and stand still for a moment.

“Is that all?” she whispered.

“Just hush,” he said, low and gruff and then moved forward to trap her against the door again. He was as hard as she was wet. She could feel his huge erection through his jeans. She couldn’t help herself and arched back against him with a sigh. Again, he drew his breath in sharply. When he spoke his voice sounded strained. He started to undo his jeans.

“You’re not going home with any boys tonight, are you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “No, I won’t.”

“You’ve learned your lesson?”

“Y-yes…yes.” His hand snaked down and stroked the front of her thighs, warm, gentle pressure. When he shifted and nuzzled her ear, she moaned and let him spread her legs. She leaned back against him as his fingers slid down her bare pussy and found her clit, swollen and wet. She shuddered with pleasure each time he stroked it.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he whispered. “But I won’t send you home like this. I’m not that mean.”

“No. No. No…” It was all she could think to say, over and over. No, you shouldn’t do this. No, this is wrong. No, don’t send me home, not this way.

“No, or yes?” he asked against her ear, hot breath and rough stubble.

“Yes. Yes! Use a condom. Please.”

“Of course I will. I’m glad you asked.”

He already had one in his hands, yanked from some pocket or his wallet. She was still pressed to the door, skirt up, panties down, legs spread open by his knees. She felt him yanking his pants down, felt his cock spring out against her—cool, velvet steel against her flaming ass. Oh my god. He put on the condom, then his hands were back on her again, stroking her hip, grasping her shoulder. She didn’t care anymore about discovery, about someone passing by and overhearing them. She didn’t care about anything but his hands on her waist and his cock nudging her