"I'm not alone now," I pointed out.
"But you were." He reached for me, pulling me into his arms. "You should have stayed downstairs and waited for one of us."
"I have a job to do," I said defensively. After a moment, I added, "There's usually someone else in here after a game."
"There wasn't," he said. "What if I was here to do something bad to you?"
I wanted to lessen the tension, so I smiled. "Aren't you? Isn't that why you came up here?"
He raised one eyebrow at me, fully aware I was pretending to misunderstand. "Yes. Lucky for both of us I got here before someone bad. But you were alone and that's not okay. I'm going to have to punish you for that."
"Promise?" I fluttered my eyelashes at him.
"Promise." He lowered his mouth to mine.
He never kissed me tentatively, and he didn't now. Rather, he kissed me like he wanted to devour me. Like if he didn't kiss me, he'd run out of oxygen and expire on the spot.
I slipped my arms around his neck and kissed him back with just as much passion and intensity. A minute ago I thought I might die, and now I was determined to live as hard as I could. Not wasting a moment.
I pulled him back to the treatment room with me. He kicked the door shut behind us. I dragged him down to the floor where we wouldn't be seen and yanked down his track pants before wrapping my mouth around his cock.
He groaned. "Fuck yeah, your mouth is so perfect. So fucking good." He closed his eyes and bucked, fucking my mouth like he'd never come before. "Chelsea…"
I cupped his balls and caressed them while sucking harder. I loved the way he groaned and writhed with every swirl of my tongue around his head. With every thrust. He made me feel powerful, in control. Everything he was feeling right now, was because of me. Because of my mouth and my hand. Because Iwas determined to make him feel good and give him what he needed. Just the way he needed it.
He shook his head, trying to hold himself back, but his balls clenched and and let himself go, spilling his release into my mouth. He grunted with a combination of pleasure and frustration at being done already. After a moment, he shook it off and pulled himself away from me.
He flipped me over onto my stomach on the cool tiles and shoved up my skirt before yanking my panties aside. Holding nothing back, he slapped my ass hard enough to sting.
I cried out with pain, but also perfect pleasure. I wanted more, lots more.
He gave me more. Slapping my cheek several times before switching to the other one.
“Don't. Be. Alone. Again," he said with each slap. "Do you hear me?"
"Yes, yes, yes, I hear you," I said. "Oh God, Dallas." I would happily have let him slap me a whole bunch more times, but then he was rolling me onto my back, shoving my legs apart and ramming his already-hard-again cock straight into me.
As relentlessly as he smacked me, he drew out of me and slammed back in, over and over until I was almost ready to beg him to stop. At the same time, I wanted to beg him to fuck me harder.
"Tell me," he said.
"I won't be alone again," I panted. "I deserve punishment. So much punishment."
"Yes, you do," he said, driving in harder. "You deserve all of this. You're going to get more when we get home. When I tell the others, they're going to punish you too."
"Yes, please," I said breathlessly. "I'm going to come."
"Only if I let you," he said, sounding like Storm.
I groaned. "Please let me. I can't hold myself back."
He grabbed a fistful of my hair. "You will if I tell you to."
He was absolutely glorious like this. Dominant and possessive. Hot as hell.
"I won't," I said. "Not until you tell me to." Even if I burst in the process.
He leaned down and kissed me roughly before letting my hair go and thrusting into me. "Come with me," he insisted. "Right now."
