Soon, I was writhing over his lap with each swat. Though his hand kept me pinned down for the most part, I could wiggle a little bit, and I used that bit to my advantage, though it was more a distraction than anything else.
“Be still, Nicole,” he scolded, landing a particularly hard swat to my lower right cheek.
A loud gasp exploded from my lips. “Geoffrey, please!” I followed it up with begging. “Please, no more. I can’t take it.”
“Oh, you can take it,” he assured me with a cheerfulness in his voice that irritated me.
“Let me up!” I demanded, balling my hand into a fist and bringing it down on his leg. It couldn’t have hurt him, and yet, I regretted it the moment I did it. Probably because my yoga pants and panties were promptly yanked down and I had a sudden inkling that I was about to find out how much protection they’d truly afforded me.
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