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She was crying, full on sobbing, but she wasn’t there yet. There were no words coming from her, no cries of guilt being released, or sorrow being expressed. Her back was tense, and the stress was still evident in the lines of her shoulders. But her bottom was red—redder than he had ever seen, and red hot bottoms were his specialty. In a split second decision made entirely on impulse and out of sympathy for a girl who had certainly more than paid the price for her misdeeds, but wasn’t yet finished, he dropped the paddle, letting it clamor to the floor without ceremony. Sometimes there was nothing more effective than the simple combination of hand and butt. It was like peanut butter and jelly or macaroni and cheese. Not fancy in the least, but a comfort inducing classic.
The clatter of the wooden paddle on the hard wood floor caught Diamond’s attention. It was evident in the slight turn of her head, and the sagging of her shoulders. She thought he was done, and she wasn’t happy about it.
“Not quite yet, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Not quite yet.”
* * *
She experienced a split second of paralyzing disappointment before Pax’s hand slammed against her ass in a blinding rush of pain and pleasure, and the breath returned to her lungs. The slap of flesh against flesh was wildly loud, and oddly comforting. In her satiated state, she concentrated on the sound, giving meaning to each powerful blow. One by one she released her grievances—dating all the way back to her mother’s heartbreaking and unexpected death, to her completely horrifying behavior on her birthday two days prior. She was sobbing, crying out her pains and sorrows unintelligibly, in a garbled language only she could understand. Somewhere in the back recesses of her mind, it registered that she was still on stage, and that she was having a very noisy public breakdown, but she was beyond embarrassment, beyond self-consciousness, beyond caring.
Her entire body had gone numb—she could no longer feel his hand—she could only hear the blows as they fell; the noise a rhythmic lull as she collapsed against his lap and seemingly floated away. She didn’t notice when he stopped, didn’t hear the roar of the crowd as they erupted in cheers of excitement and arousal. She didn’t notice when the floating sensation she was experiencing became actual floating as Pax stood and lifted her into his arms, carrying her off the stage, still in her prone position.
She felt higher than a kite, and more relaxed than she ever remembered feeling. All she knew was that this had been the single most painful, humiliating, and arousing experience of her life, and she was as weightless as a feather, as if all the cares she had in the word had been spanked away.
And then there was Pax. Never had her view of a person changed so completely and so quickly. Prior to yesterday morning, she had thought him to be a self-serving pimp of a man. A narcissistic money-hungry player with an overly inflated ego. At this moment, he was an angel—the hottest, sweetest, most dominant angel to ever fall down from the heavens—if angels had hands like two-by-fours and biceps bigger than her neck.
Each time Pax spanked her was harder and more unyielding than the time before. It was also more cathartic. She should be hauling off and decking him right about now, but there was nothing she wanted to do less. The humiliating act of accepting a spanking for wrongdoing, the release from pain and emotions that had been weighing her down for years, and the pain induced euphoria she was currently experiencing combined, leaving her in a state of unrelenting happiness and peace. She was so damn relaxed, so damn happy and hornier than she had ever been.
Her giddiness increased when they made it to the dressing room, and Pax carried her through the doorway, closing the door behind them with his hip. He laid her gently on her back on the red suede chaise in the corner of the room and she smiled as she finally saw his face for the first time in over an hour. He knelt next to the chaise and she was shocked to see his beautiful smiling eyes were a mask of concern—and longing.
He opened his mouth to speak, and she put a finger to his lips. “Shh.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close and kissed him more deeply and fully than she had ever kissed anyone before. Pax hesitated for a split second, and then they were a frenzy of passionate kisses, and he was on top of her on the chaise, so entwined that it was hard to tell where he stopped and she began. Their movements were rushed and impatient—shirts and undergarments flew across the room in their rush to have that skin to skin contact. Soon they were nearly naked, her in her white ruffled panties that were chaffing against the heat radiating off her ass, and him in a pair of sexy black boxer briefs. Pausing for a minute, her eyes raked over his body with a happy grin, so that was what healthy eating and a strict workout regime looked like. Damn.
Lowering his head to her waist, he took the waistband of her panties in his teeth and lifted her off the chaise with one giant hand underneath her butt, just high enough to drag her panties down her hips, guiding them down her legs with his mouth until they, like all of her other clothes, were on the floor.
Just the simple act had her ready to orgasm on the spot. She had never been so filled with need for anyone before tonight. Her connection to Pax was primal—a hunger that ached deep in her belly and spread its fire to her pussy, until that too throbbed with a deep aching need that she knew wouldn’t ease until she was rewarded with the sweet release of his cock thrusting into her with a force that was only rivaled by the impact of his hand slamming into her ass only minutes earlier.
His body covered hers like a blanket, and he wasted no time filling her with his manhood. Their movements were as connected and tuned as they had been on stage, and their organs strummed together like a bow playing a violin.
Diamond was beyond coherent thought. His body on hers was the only thing that mattered. Her movements were frenzied and without inhibition, a feeling that was completely new to her. It hit her like a powerful drug, and she wanted more. She grabbed his tight ass and squeezed, relishing in the irony of the contrast. One of his large hands could completely cover her own ass cheek, but her own tiny hand barely grazed the surface of one of his.
She pushed on his buttocks, using them as a guide, thrusting him deeper into her folds, screaming as she teetered on the edge of an earth shaking orgasm. Her face flushed as if somebody had suddenly lit a fire in the room. Her hands curled into fists, and her muscles tightened around him. She was there.
