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At the same time, I’m rolling my hips against his hand, wanting him to use two fingers again, wanting him to give me what I need . . .
When I fail to answer, Dean pulls his hand away.
SMACK!
He slaps me on the ass again, even harder. The flesh is already red and throbbing from before. This second spanking makes my ass burn like his hand is coated in hot pepper.
“OW!” I cry.
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
“Say it,” Dean hisses.
I shake my head, pinned down by Dean’s arm on my back, my nails digging into his calf.
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
“Say it!” He barks.
“Alright!” I cry.
“Say, ‘Yes, sir.’ ”
“Yes, sir!”
That punishing hand returns to my pussy once more, and this time he rubs me like he did before, with steady, firm pressure, and two fingers pushed inside me.
The relief of getting what I want is immense. My eyes are closed, my face turned in toward his thigh. I’m humping his hand with no thought for how stupid I might look, how degrading it is to be this desperate.
His ring and pinky fingers slide in and out of me and his index and middle finger rub my clit. I press my face against his thigh and I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent off his skin.
The tornado hits. I’m caught up in the whirlwind, the whole room spinning around me as I cum harder than I ever have in my life, all over the hand of my enemy.
When it’s over, I lay limp and shaking across Dean’s lap.
The position is humiliating. My throbbing ass is humiliating.
But I feel a deep and intense pleasure as Dean growls, “Good girl.”
7
DEAN
Cat stands up shakily, her face as red as her ass.
She can’t look me in the eye.
She pulls her panties up from around her knees and smooths down her skirt.
Her hair is a wild halo of black curls. Her skin has never looked more clear and glowing. Her dark lashes lay like twin fans against her freckled cheeks.
