I practically leap off the bed to obediently run to the marble and glass bar built into the wall of the living room. But I force myself to stop, gain composure, and walk slowly.
I have a plan. I can’t seem too eager.
While he was out this afternoon, I put lingerie on underneath my body-hugging black dress.
I have purposefully worn a dress short enough that you can see the lace-edged top of my stockings and the suspender belt leading up beneath my skirt. If I bend over, you get an eyeful of almost everything.
I want what I want, and I have ways of making him give it to me.
He’s not as in control of this game as he thinks. I can play too. I can tease and push him right over the edge andmakehim fuck me. All the while making him think he’s the one in charge.
Vincent is sitting on the sofa, watching me as I walk into the living room. Dinner is laid out on the table, waiting for us. It smells divine and makes my stomach tighten with hunger.
“A double whisky, Mr. Vece?” I ask politely.
His eyes greedily jump over me, but his expression doesn’t change. “Yes.” His dark voice replies.
I smirk. The dress has caught his attention. But wait until he sees the lace.
I saunter over to the bar, letting my hips sway a little more than usual. I’m acutely aware of his eyes on me and it makes me feel powerful.
The crystal glasses chime as I accidentally knock them together when I pull them off the glass shelf.
I set them down and drop three blocks of ice in each glass, then splash whisky over the top.
I’ve done enough bar jobs to judge the levels perfectly.
All the while my back is hot from his stare.
I bend, just a little, to put the ice tray back in the fridge beneath the bar.
I hear him. A low growl, soft but definite.
“The food smells amazing.” I said, as though I wasn’t begging him to fuck me.
Picking up the crystal glasses I walk over to the sofa and set one down in front of him, but it slips from my fingers, knocks the edge of the table and shatters.
“Oh.” I gasp, annoyed with myself. There goes the elegance, the sex appeal - the anything. I just look clumsy now.
Vincent lets out a low snarl as he looks down at the mess. Whisky has splashed across the legs of his pants. Shit. That will be extremely expensive to dry clean.
“I - I can get a cloth and - I’ll clean it up - I just—” I set my drink down on the table and turn to hurry to the kitchen, but I get the fright of my life to find Vincent standing behind me. My arm is gripped tightly in his broad hand.
“That was very expensive whisky, Misha.” He says darkly.
My heart races as I turn my eyes towards him. He doesn’t give a fuck about the cost of the whisky.
But his eyes say it all.
“I’m sorry.” I whisper.
“You will be.” He says, pulling me towards the closest sofa and before I know what is going on, I am lying across his lap with my ass in the air, face down on his legs. He pushes my face against the sofa and suddenly, to my complete shock, heslaps me hard across my ass. I let out a loud squeal, instantly delighted. Every cell in me is raging with desire.
He growls deeply as his cock hardens. I can feel it pressing against my body.
Heat pools between my legs as I try to squirm away.
The spanking is fucking hot - but it hurts.
