“You are.” He releases my chin, only to move his hand around my head and fist my hair. “You’re not my good girl right now, Vivienne.”
“Stop it.” How can words sting as much as his palm across my ass?
“No. Bad girls don’t get pretty words and orgasms.” He twists me around, shoving me over the table.
Moments ago, we were having breakfast. A delicious breakfast, and now I’m bent over like a petulant little girl about to get her ass spanked.
“Ivan. Let me up!” I slap the table with an open palm.
The jangle of his belt buckle answers me. Every nerve ending in my body awakens at the sound. A shiver crawls up my back as the leather of his belt slides through the loops of his pants.
His body covers mine as he leans over me. Between my ass cheeks, his erection presses. I want to fight against the whoosh of arousal that consumes me, but it’s too strong. It’s already taken root; it’s melted me into him as he presses a soft kiss to my cheek.
“Push your pants down, offer your ass for your punishment,” he says softly.
“Don’t make me, Ivan. Please.” I clench my eyes shut, trying to hide from my own humiliation.
“If you want to be my good girl again, you need to earn it. You need to show me how a good girl behaves.” He repositions himself, moving to my side, and lets go of my hair.
I’m in position of my own will now. He can’t be blamed for this. I want desperately to put the guilt on him.
“Now do what I say. Pull your pants down.”
My fingers tremble as I reach back for the elastic of my leggings. Slowly, I drag the material over my ass, exposing more than just my body but my very soul. Already, arousal wets my pussy.
“No panties again?” He palms my right ass cheek.
“I haven’t done laundry yet.”
He chuckles. It’s a dark sound and comes from deep in his chest.
“Bad girl.” He says again, squeezing my cheek until I rise up onto my toes. “You’ll do your laundry today.”
“Okay.” I’m not exactly in a position to argue.
“What?” A harsh slap lands across my ass, jolting me forward.
“Yes, sir!”
“Are you ready for your punishment?” A rush of emotion courses through me at the sound of him snapping the belt behind me.
“Yes, sir.” It comes out so weak, so soft, I’m not even sure I actually said the words.
“Tell me. Ask me to make you my good girl again.” He presses his body against my hip, anchoring me to him.
I clench my eyes again. I can’t. That’s too much.
Fire burns on my cheeks, and spreads down my body. Every part of me blushes from the humiliation of what he wants me to do.
What I know I want to do.
“Vivienne.”
He presses his hand to the small of my back, a small gesture that I’m not alone here. He’s here, and he’ll walk me through this. We’ll come out better on the other side.
“Please make me your good girl again.” The words slide easily past my lips, lubricated by arousal and need.
A need for him to look at me with pride. A need for him to brush my hair from my face and call me his good girl. A need for him to ease the weight crushing my chest from the inside.
