Because You Are Mine (Because You Are Mine #1)(73)



She watched him, anticipation rising, as he went back over to the table and removed his jacket, admiring the lean flex of muscle beneath his dress shirt. He rolled back his shirtsleeves. She caught a glimpse of strong forearms and his gold watch. Nervous excitement frothed in her belly at the sight.

He meant business.

When he returned, she immediately tried to see what was in his hand.

“Curious?” he murmured.

She nodded.

“Since I’m going to blindfold you in a moment, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” he said quietly. He held up the familiar handcuffs. “I’m going to restrain your wrists, blindfold you, and give you an over-the-knee spanking. Once your ass is nice and hot”—he held up the black rubber plug with the circular end like a pacifier handle, as well as a bottle of clear gel—“I’m going to lube up this butt plug and ready your ass for my cock.”

Her heart froze for a suspended few seconds.

“You’re going to do what?”

“You heard me,” he said as he set the lubricant and butt plug on the couch. He nodded at one of her wrists. “The front,” he said, and she put her hands together before her mons, following his concise instructions without thought, her brain in stall mode. “Surely you knew men like to do that,” he said, noticing her bewilderment.

“Even if women don’t?”

“Some women do. A great deal.”

She thought of Ian’s huge penis and made her decision then and there. It would be a punishment to take it in her ass, pure and simple, no matter the clitoral stimulant that was beginning to make her prickle and burn in pleasure. He went to the table and came back holding a long black strip of silk—the blindfold. She frowned at him for good measure as he raised his hands to tie it around her eyes.

When he’d affixed the cloth and she was blindfolded, he led her to the couch. She thought she heard the soft sound of his large, solid body falling on the cushions. He guided her onto his lap. She came down awkwardly, her bound wrists causing her elbows to jab into his rock-solid thighs.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“It’s all right. Remember the position I taught you?” he murmured from somewhere above her. She nodded and slid her breasts over his outer thigh until the lower curves pressed against hard muscle, her bound hands were stretched out above her head, and her bare ass curved over his other leg. Her sex clenched tight when she clearly felt the outlines of his cock against her ribs and belly. A flare of panicked excitement bubbled up from her chest when she fully absorbed his dimensions and felt his throbbing warmth through the cloth of his pants.

“Ian, you’ll never be able to put that inside my—”

He cracked her ass with his palm, and she jumped in his lap.

“I will, lovely,” she heard him say. “And I’ll love every second of it. Now keep that bottom still.”

She bit her lip to keep from moaning as he began to slap her buttocks, and occasionally her thighs, with quick, stinging spanks. Her clit pinched in arousal. She decided she liked over-the-knee spankings more than the paddle. She liked Ian’s personal touch, and how his hand grew as warm as her smarting ass, and how his cock leapt against her body when he landed those firm slaps on the lower curves of her buttocks. Her entire focus narrowed to the feeling of his stark arousal pressing against her body and the anticipation of his next spank.

She adored how he paused in her punishment and stroked her now-fiery bottom with his big hand, as if to soothe the sting. She moaned when he suddenly squeezed an entire buttock tautly and flexed his hips, grinding her body against his raging erection.

“Why do you have to torment me, lovely?” she heard him rasp.

“I wonder the same thing about you,” she mumbled frantically, her face pressed into the couch, muffling her speech. He was still pressing her against his hard, aroused body, and her clit loved the pressure.

He grunted and released his hips.

“You’re a constant thorn in my side,” he said, sounding grim.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, missing the pressure of his cock, and his hand on her ass. What was he doing? she wondered, twisting her chin around, trying to hear something that would answer her question. A cry leaked out of her throat when he matter-of-factly spread an ass cheek with a large hand and kept it pried back. Her muscles tensed in anxiety when she felt a cool, hard pressure against her anus.

“I don’t really think you are sorry,” she heard Ian say from behind her. The pressure increased, and the tip of the plug slipped into her ass. “I think you like to torment me as much as I love to punish you.”

“Ian,” she moaned uncontrollably when he pushed the plug farther into her, and then began to slide the rubber tube out and back in several inches, back and forth, f*cking her ass using the handle at the end, the lubrication making for a smooth glide despite the pressure.

“Yes?” he asked, his voice sounding rough.

Her mouth hung open, her flaming cheek pressed to the velvet of the couch.

“It feels so . . . strange,” she managed in a broken voice. She couldn’t adequately put into words how it felt—anxiety-provoking to lay in his lap at his mercy, shameful to give him control over such a private, forbidden part of her body, arousing to feel nerve endings flicker to life at the stimulation, mounting the burn at her clit in a way she’d never before experienced . . .

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