“You’re a bad man,” I accuse in return.
“Yes, I am,” he agrees, his voice husky as his lips part in an irreverent smile. He is still massaging my bottom, soothing away some of the ache he put there last night. I have tried to defy him. I have tried to escape. I still plan to expose him. And he must know that, but for this small moment, there is kindness.
And then another slap lands, hard enough to make me cry out again. It hurts, but there’s more than pain. My pussy is starting to leave a slick trail over the front of his pants. I’m aroused because I’m caught in his grasp, held by his powerful hands. I’m wet because I know how this is going to end. I know he’s going to fuck me. I know he’s going to punish me. I know he’s going to make me pay.
“This isn’t the punishment,” he grunts, slamming his cock inside my tight, wet hole. “That comes after.”
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