Part II: When You Defy Me

Chapter Three

His hand struck the lower curve of her ass cheeks, causing a burst of sensation.

“Ouch.”

“Je suis désolé,” she heard Lucien apologize huskily behind her. He touched her buttocks, his palm warmed from her spankings. Her breath hitched. “It will take me a time or two to learn what you can tolerate . . . what you need.”

Her clenched eyelids sprang open. “What I need is for you to stop torturing me this way.”

His hand disappeared. Smack.

“Wrong. You need a consequence for your actions.”

The nerves on the surface of her bottom stung and burned. There was an inexplicable link between those nerves and her sizzling clit. She bit her lip, experiencing an almost overwhelming desire to touch herself . . . to staunch the ache growing between her thighs.

“Brace yourself,” Lucien warned, his voice a low, sexual purr that washed over her exposed, flaming ass and tickled at her damp pussy. She firmed her hold, following his order instinctively, and clenched her teeth. His hand landed again and again, the brisk cracking sound of skin against skin creating a strangely erotic contrast to the rich yet highly controlled notes of the symphonic music filling her ears.

The tail of her smock flipped down over a buttock. She inhaled shakily when he paused and took a moment to carefully replace the edge of her smock at her waist, once again revealing her ass. She could just imagine how pink it must look to him. The breath burned in her lungs when he spread his hand over the crack between her buttocks, his fingers spread, his fingertips below his palm.

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“So beautiful,” he murmured.

She whimpered softly at the hint of awe in his tone. He was so large that he encompassed her. He rubbed, and her vagina clenched tight. She moaned feverishly, wanting . . . needing his touch on her sex. He was only inches away from her pussy. She gyrated her hips slightly, rubbing him back in an open invitation.

Smack. She gasped at the unexpected, sharp pain of his hand cracking against her ass.

“Damn it,” she seethed.

“You’re doing it again,” he said, a thread of amusement in his hard voice.

“What?”

“Trying to grab for the reins.”

“Ouch . . . ooh . . . merde,” she mumbled incoherently when he spanked her.

“Every time you attempt to seduce me, I’ll spank you an extra time. Submit, ma chère. Let go. I’m taking control for the time being.”

A tear leaked down her cheek, but she remained determinedly still. For a few seconds, she and Lucien were as one. She feared the flex of Lucien’s muscle, the swing of his arm, but she also anticipated it, sensed it perfectly . . . wanted and needed it. There, for a few seconds, she understood precisely what Lucien had meant.

Discipline. Need.

“Two more,” she heard him growl.

She twisted her chin and saw his arm stretched back. He looked awesome in that moment, his long legs spread slightly, nostrils flared, eyes blazing, muscles coiled and tense. He paused with his hand back and met her stare. It happened so quickly that later she wondered if she’d imagined it. He cupped her hip with his free hand and pressed her burning ass to his crotch, grinding her against rock-hard thighs and cock.

Her eyes sprang wide when she fully absorbed his dimensions . . . his heat. Liquid surged at her core, an answer to his primal call. Abruptly, he was gone.

“Damn those eyes,” he muttered thickly. “Look at that desk or I swear you won’t sit comfortably for a week.”

She turned, staring sightlessly at the leather blotter on his desk, panting shallowly as he cracked off the last two strokes.

Through the swelling sounds of the symphony and her own pounding heart, she heard the rough, soughing sound of Lucien’s breath behind her. She didn’t move.

What would he do now? Her pussy was hot and wet between her thighs. She experienced his arousal behind her like a distant but powerful fire, his heat seeming to emanate against her naked ass, teasing her sex. Surely he wouldn’t walk away? Perhaps he’d take her from behind? The thought panicked and excited her. She hadn’t prepared for this. She started to raise herself in order to touch him . . . in order to pleasure him . . . to satisfy him . . .

. . . in order to take control of this volatile situation.

That she could handle. He’d said they wouldn’t have sex, but that was before they’d generated all this heat. She stood and turned, gratified to see the fixed, rigid expression on his face as he stared at her ass. He grabbed her wrist lightning quick when she reached for his pants. Suddenly, she was spinning and her back was pressed tightly to his front, her bottom pressed against his hard thighs, her lower back against the flagrant fullness of his sex. She gasped when he gathered her other wrist and restrained both of her arms in his hand. He leaned down, cupping her body to his long, hard length.

“It aroused you. Didn’t it?”

A shudder of excitement went through her at the sound of his delicious voice in her ear.

“I . . . I hated it,” she lied, fighting for the upper hand even though she knew she was losing . . . even though she increasingly didn’t know what losing or winning meant when it came to Lucien. Her gasp turned into a moan of disbelieving arousal when he abruptly plunged a long finger between her labia and rubbed.

“Very warm. Very wet,” he groaned near her ear, increasing her shudders of pleasure. “I’m going to cure you of this tendency for lying. I felt you submit there at the end, even if you are denying it now, and you were very brave in accepting your spanking. Here is your reward.”




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