Despite everything he’s done since I’ve met him, I’m here, letting him do things to my body I never would have agreed to before. Letting myself care for him when I know I should run away. Caring more about his needs than my own because I can see that he needs this—he needs to let go, and it’s me who’ll remedy that for him.
He lifts my bra so both breasts are exposed, moving so quickly to take one in his mouth that I jump. I moan from the flick of his tongue over my hardened nipple. I arch my back, pushing my mound closer to him.
Easton releases my nipple with a pop only to pluck it, the motion sending a shudder down my spine. Then he licks the space around it, circling my areola with his tongue, rotating between biting and licking.
He grabs my throat again and yanks me to him, his face so close to mine that my eyes start to cross. “I want you bent over this desk; I need to see your pretty little ass.” He growls against my lips.
He helps me down and aggressively spins me before pushing my face into the hard surface, a low hiss leaving his mouth when I’m bent over in front of him.
“I’m going to hit you now, amore. And you’re going to count. If you don’t, we’ll start over, and we’ll keep starting over until you behave.”
I nod.
Smack, and I squeeze my eyes shut as a rush of breath leaves my lungs.
“What do you say?”
“Okay,” I breathe out.
Smack. He hits me in the same spot, and pain shoots up my side.
“Wrong, amore. What do you say?”
I swallow, bracing myself for another hit, but it doesn’t come. He’s waiting for me, and I appreciate the patience, but something tells me that before the end of the night, all of that will be stripped away.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl,” he says while pressing himself close to me, his dick lined up with my sex. Easton pets my head and caresses my ass simultaneously. “Start counting now.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I’m already tensing up, waiting for the next blow, my heart speeding up with each passing second. But he is still behind me, only the sound of him breathing lets me know he’s still there. I want to see him, watch as he enjoys himself, but I know if I move without him telling me to, he won’t like that. So I lie still, as torturous as it may be.
He leans over me, and his skin feels like hot rocks on my back. I can feel his dick twitch through his pants against me as his hand moves to palm my ass where he struck me. I know the gesture is meant to calm me, but it does nothing of the sort. Every time his hand leaves my flesh, I brace for the impact I know is coming.
Finally, another quick smack is planted on my ass. I push my forehead against the wood of my desk and inhale a sharp breath, telling myself not to make any more sound than what he’s asked for. He needs this, and as fucked-up as it may seem, I like it.
“One,” I whisper, knowing he can hear me.
It’s not necessarily the action that arouses me, although I don’t mind it. It’s more the emotion behind it. I can feel him slipping—letting himself go, but at the same time, he remains in control and poised.
He’s a master at this game, and now I’m his willing student, ready to learn.
Another hit pulls me from my thoughts. The heat of his body leaves me and I whisper again. “Two.”
“You’re doing so good, amore,” he praises, dropping to his knees.
His lips find the tender spot behind me. Slowly, he kisses, sucking my sore skin into his mouth and massaging it with his tongue. But just as soon as it starts to feel better, he stops and rises to his feet again.
Another hit shakes me. I grit my teeth. “Three.”
I stay bent over, stock-still, waiting for his next command, but it doesn’t come for what seems like ages. My ragged breaths are the only thing that fill the silence until the buckle of his belt clings against itself as he undoes it.
“Stand up.”
I lift my head and push my body upright with my chest, but I don’t turn around. Instead, I stand straight with my chin tilted high and wait.
“Look at me.”
I turn and watch his figure. His right hand clenches his belt while his other stays balled in a fist. Both just hanging beside him loosely as his chest heaves and he studies me.
He steps forward until his body is an inch from mine. “I want the world to know you’re mine, amore.” He raises his hand and twirls the lock of hair that’s fallen from my bun. “I want every man, woman, and being to know I own you.”
I close my eyes and rest my cheek into his palm. I open my mouth to speak but quickly close it when he drops his hand. I open my eyes again, and watch him inch toward the office door.
“Come.”
His demand is short and clipped, and it fills me with anxiety and nervous jitters, but yet my feet still move and obey.
I stop in the aisle of bookshelves right before the register and watch him. Cars pass on the street in front of us as the moonlight spills in brighter than before.
Instinctively, I turn into myself, trying to shield my naked body from passersby’s eyes, but when Easton turns back to me, I can tell by the look on his face he wants everyone to see me—or rather what he’s going to do to me. Luckily with it being so late at night there isn’t much activity on the street or sidewalk, but still, my heart beats harder and my hands shake.
Reluctantly, I drop my shoulders, baring my exposed body to him. He lifts a hand and crooks his pointer at me, the belt still hanging in his grasp. A silent order I don’t question.
I pad across the floor quietly until I reach the counter where he’s settled. Gently, he moves and circles me, stopping directly behind me. “Tell me what you see, amore.”
I look out the windows, trying to focus my mind on everything that’s out there. But his lips now on my neck, down my shoulder, then along my back have me unable to think straight.
“Um— I see my car.”
“Keep going.” He urges me forward using the weight of his body against mine.
My hips dig into the counter as he leans into me, continuing his trail of soft kisses. “Trees.”
The end of his belt runs up my side, and goosebumps erupt all over my skin.
“What else?”
“There are people on the stoop across the street. They’re talking.”
He lets out a low moan. “You think they can see you?”
I squint to try to see them better. “Maybe.”
“Good.”
The tip of his tongue sticks out and trails back up me the same way it went down, licking every goosebump in its path.
He makes it back to my neck, and draws his head back slightly. “I can see the veins in your neck throbbing. Your heartbeat is erratic and fast. Are you scared, amore?”
“A little,” I admit, though it’s a lie. I’m more than a little bit afraid. Not that I can tell him that because then he’ll stop.
He’s close to losing it, and I want to catch him when he does. So I tell a lie that I know will get me in trouble if he figures it out. Anything to get close to him.
“You know I can tell when you’re lying? Your jaw tics when you do.”
I drop my chin while making a fist for the blow I know is coming. And despite how prepared I am for it, I flinch anyway. This time it’s his belt that I feel right underneath my ass. Easton kisses my neck, and the sensation of him licking circles along the space beneath my ear distracts me from the pain from the hit.