“There’s no use in fighting me, Fallon. I was upfront with you that if you tried to escape, you would be punished. That’s exactly what I intend on doing.”
“Fuck you, Navarro. I’m an adult.”
“Then you need to act like one. What did you honestly think you’d accomplish by attacking me?”
He had a good point, but I refused to relinquish what little control I believed I had. I continued fighting him even as exhaustion and desperation all but knocked out my ability to fight.
“Fuck you,” I hissed. The man brought the worst out in me, including losing all rational thoughts. That’s how crazy he made me.
He grabbed the hem of my dress, jerking it up to my waist and exposing my bare ass and thighs. I shuddered audibly as cool air sliced against my skin.
“Have it your way, Fallon. I’d believed we could have a decent conversation, but I can tell you need discipline to help you understand.”
“Understand what?” I threw back at him. “That you’re a criminal and I shouldn’t believe anything you spout from your mouth?” Which was technically true, but even in my frazzled state of mind, I knew it wasn’t in my best interest to poke him as I’d been doing.
The moment he brought the strap down against my backside, prickles danced down the backs of my legs.
I lurched up, gasping for air. I’d thought the spanking he’d given me in the club was painful, but the single lash of the belt was blinding.
Navarro didn’t stop there. He brought the belt down twice more, the brutal slap of the thick leather against my skin as nerve-racking as the entire night had been. I cried out and smashed my fists against his legs.
The anguish was entirely different, searing in a similar way as when he’d fucked me like a wild animal. He was methodical, the snapping of his wrist drawing my attention. Yet when the first strike landed on my upper thighs, I uttered a sharp scream, kicking and fighting to free myself.
He held me tightly against him, cracking the belt three more times. I gasped again, only this time, the sharp cry turned into a woeful moan. Not from pain.
Fuck. From desire.
A whiff of my yearning wafted to my nose and I panted from the ugly comprehension I was completely and utterly aroused. Who in their right mind was ever hot and bothered when receiving a painful spanking?
Emotions as well as sensations surged through me.
Rage and insolence, uncertainty and fear.
But as I’d experienced before, every nerve ending was on fire, so electrified I couldn’t breathe. My cheeks burned from the indignation of the horrible act he was performing, but as I opened my mouth to beg him to stop, I sputtered.
What? What in God’s name was wrong with me?
Every part of me was shaking, but my toes were curled as my core began to heat. To add insult to injury, my pussy throbbed more than before. This brutal man was doing this to me on purpose. He wanted me hot and bothered. Did he think that would make me easier to control?
He was a fool if he truly believed that.
“Fuck you,” I managed, my voice more strangled than before.
His chuckle was dark and disbelieving. The heat in my bottom increased, but the fire between my legs was all I could concentrate on. I continued getting wetter, several moans escaping my mouth at the worst possible time.
My pussy clenched even as he issued four more strikes. While the pain was unbelievable, I was getting wetter with every second and there were intense vibrations that refused to be ignored.
“Are you ready to have a civilized conversation?” he asked in his deepest, huskiest voice. The man was as aroused as I’d become.
“Just stop.” I hated the sound of my voice, as if I was a weakling. And I wasn’t. Yet I’d never been spanked by anyone before him.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He brought the belt down four more times.
My butt was on fire, red and raw, yet the agony was nothing like the rush of endorphins or the constant cinching of my pussy muscles.
He took a deep breath, stopping long enough to brush the rough pads of his fingers from one side of my bottom to the other.When he took the time to roll a single fingertip down the crack of my ass, I flinched. As usual, not from fear or even hatred, but because every touch ignited another fire deep within.
I was dripping wet, which he knew the moment he pressed his hand between my legs, swirling the same finger around my clit. The moment was embarrassing, the heat cresting on my face as intense as the sizzle on my bottom.
