Knox slid into his pickup truck, the engine whining before starting up. It was an old vehicle, one he’d gotten before joining the army, and even after all his years away, it was sitting at his parents’ house, waiting for him. Steady, familiar, and reliable—most days. Although he had a Hummer and a new pickup, he couldn’t part with this one.
When he’d joined the army at twenty-one, Knox didn’t anticipate he’d rise through the ranks, becoming a Green Beret. He loved the military and found the regimented control and scheduling of every detail of a person’s life comforting in some respects. He enjoyed organization and attention to detail. The military was a lifestyle that appeared to be made for him.
Knox had spent more than a dozen years in Afghanistan, fighting battle after battle in the mountains and deserts. The friendships he’d obtained through this lifestyle were lifelong bonds. The men had spent years and years together, learning every positive and negative quirk for each and every soldier. Men and women bond during these times of conflict, relying on the instincts and bravery of their fellow soldiers. The knowledge that they were serving their country, protecting the citizens and their rights, encouraged him and his buddies, keeping them buoyed many days.
But, after twelve years in the army as an active duty Green Beret he would be retiring, starting over with a new life and career. But, until he turned thirty-five, he would continue serving in the army reserves.
Home. Near his family.
Finally, after months of living with his parents, he would be living in his own place above the bar he’d just purchased.
Coming home to Boston had given him the first sense of stability he’d had in years, and finding his old blue truck shiny in the driveway had been like putting on an old comfortable pair of jeans. It smelled of freedom, no restrictions, no fear, and home.
Knox’s father, Gavin Chambers, had felt lost when Knox left for the army. Filling the void, his father had begun washing and waxing Knox’s truck. It was a task that Gavin had looked forward to. Caring for Knox’s truck had kept his father’s hopes raised until he could come home.
When Knox came home last month, it had been one of the few times he had seen his father break down and cry. It had touched him—on many levels.
Being away at war as a Green Beret took its toll on everyone, especially a soldier’s family. It had been a long time, and now it was over. He could begin his new life. Settle down as a retired officer, using the money he’d sent home all those years to start a business, and hopefully start a family as well.
Knox needed to start a civilian life, and he swore it felt like he was treading water trying to find a lifeline or anything which would propel him into the right direction.
The truck was purring now, regardless of the many days it struggled to turn over. Putting it into gear, Knox urged it forward and drove toward his new bar.
Raking his hand through his military cut, he realized he needed a haircut. Didn’t have to worry about such things in the army, they took care of everything you did.
Now those tasks were up to him. He rubbed his callused hands on his fatigues, hoping the blood flow would warm up his fingers. Adjusting to the cold was more challenging than he thought it would be. The contrast in temperatures had been a shock to his system.
He’d bundled up with layers, getting ready for a long day of work at his new place, assuming there would be no heat in the building yet. Something else he needed to do today.
The Whistle Stop was a bedraggled bar in the suburbs of Boston, in a part of town the city hoped to revitalize, like so many cities across America. It wasn’t in the best of areas, but there were many that were worse, so when the bank offered him a VA loan, he’d leaped onto it and reaped the benefits of several tax breaks accompanying the purchase of a business in the revitalization district.
The rest was history as they say, and now he would be renovating and opening up what he hoped would become a community hangout for veterans.
When searching for a name for his bar, Knox had watched a news interview with a veteran who told the reporter he’d met his wife during World War II at a whistle-stop dance and he’d decided it was the perfect name for the building. He just hoped the veterans and community would feel the same way.
He pulled up in front of the brick building and noticed a broken window. Knox would need to fix that quickly or vagrants would be breaking in. He shook his head. This would be a project of love, and one that would be annoying, he had no doubt. But his task for today would be calling to get the electricity and heat hooked up. Tomorrow he’d call to get the window fixed. He’d throw a piece of plywood over it until an appointment for contractors could be made.
Shutting his truck off, he shifted the keys in his hand until he found the key for his business. Patting the front of his jacket, Knox assured his pistol was securely positioned in his holster. He slid out of the truck, rounding it before putting the key into the lock and opening the door.
Exit. Straight ahead. Windows. Behind and along the right wall. Back exit down the hall to the left, past the bathrooms.
It was a habit. The first thing a Beret did was scan the environment for exits and entrances, preparing for the enemy.
Always know where your vulnerabilities lie, and how the fuck to escape when necessary.
Knox swore he saw movement in the back hallway, and if he heard it clearly, a footstep.
“Hello? Anyone there?”
There was only a whisper of clothing brushing, but no footsteps.
“I’m not gonna hurt ya, come out. Now.” He slid his Glock from the chest holster, sauntering quietly toward the hallway. A small whine, more like a moan with an exhale came from around the vending machine between the men’s room and women’s room.
He crept along the machine and darted around it, pointing his pistol, and he found a very petite, doe-eyed girl, standing frozen in fear and then she ran like fucking hell down the hall toward the back exit of the bar.
Lunging forward, he just missed grabbing her by the sweatshirt, but after breaking into an easy jog, he easily snatched her on the second try.
Fighting like a wildcat, she spun in a circle while Knox shoved his gun back into the holster, holding her firmly by the hood of her sweatshirt, regardless of her efforts.
“Hey! Hey, hey. Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” He grasped her upper arms, holding her still against her will, doing his best to make eye contact, and he lowered his voice, whispering, “Breathe, breathe, little one. It’s okay. You’re safe with me.”
“Fuck you. That’s what they all say. I’ll scream for a cop. After I kick you in the balls. Let me go!” She was good on her word; taking a deep breath, she let loose with a scream that nearly deafened him, her feet wildly kicking toward him.
He quickly turned her around, putting her back to his chest, and he covered her mouth with his broad hand, making sure she could still breathe through her nose. “You need to settle down, girl. I’m not going to hurt you, but I’m also not going to allow you to scream or kick me either. I own this building and I expect you to explain why you’re here and what you were going to do in here.”
She stilled, her body stiffening.
“That’s right, young lady. I own this place. Now, I’ll let you go if you tell me what your name is and why you’re here.” He slowly eased his hand away; not trusting she’d be quiet, he kept it nearby ready to slap it against her mouth if necessary.
Once she’d proven she would be quiet, he released her and she shot away as if he was electrically charged. Adjusting her shirt, she scowled at him with an adorable pout. Her pink lips pursed together, and those beautiful greenish blue eyes narrowed, glowering at him. In his estimation she must have been eighteen years old—maybe a bit older. She had wavy brown hair, and right now it was a wild mass of curls, but he had no doubt once brushed and tamed, the curls were adorable. They fit her personality—what little he knew of it so far—scrappy, wild, and… adorable.
“What’s your name, girl?”
She crossed her arms over her chest.
Nonverbal communication—stay away.
He could play this game. He walked over to a barstool, sitting down, crossing his arms as well. With his booted foot, he tugged the chair next to him out a couple of feet, nodding his head toward it. “Take a seat. You ain’t leavin’ until I get an answer.”
She let her eyes stare at the chair, only briefly, before furrowing her eyebrows in his direction and then with a loud huff she stomped over, plopping onto the stool like a rebellious teen.
Yep, she must be a teenager.
She didn’t come up to more than the middle of his chest and although he was a big man, this little girl was much smaller than a grown woman.
“What’s your name, little girl?”
“Fuck you. What’s your name?”
“Knox Chambers. Normally I don’t take kindly to swearing, we’ll deal with respect later.” This girl wore his patience thin, and he was known for that character trait. Pulling in a deep breath, he looked around the place and added, “I own this bar. I’ll be renovating it into The Whistle Stop. Now, what’s your name?”
“That’s a stupid name for a bar, ain’t nobody going to come here. I’m Marli Brown.” She toed her worn sneakers with huge holes in them into the weathered, dark hardwood floor.
“Marli is a nickname. What’s your real name?” Knox quirked an eyebrow in her direction.
She growled in her chest and as much as she made him want to shake the shit out of her, she also looked cute and he wanted to tousle her hair. Life was rough, a person needed spunk to survive, and God knows, Marli seemed to have an abundance of fire.
“Marlow Ann Brown.”
“That’s a right pretty name, Marli.”
She tilted her head. “You don’t speak like a Bostonian. How come?”
“I’m originally from Texas. Luckenbach, Texas. We moved here when I was twelve, so I never really lost my accent or word usage.”
She nodded, regarding him quietly.
Taking his work-booted foot, he tapped her petite sneaker lightly. “Why are you here, Marli?”
She snatched her foot back, gritting her teeth, her eyes darkening. They skittered to a corner of the bar and quickly she diverted them back to Knox.
Turning in his stool, he looked over toward the corner across the room. There was a book bag, a rumpled blanket, along with some carelessly discarded jerky wrappers, water bottles, and a couple of beer bottles—all empty.
Narrowing his gaze at her, he realized she was either a runaway teen or homeless. “Marli Ann, tell me what’s going on? Have you been sleeping here?”
“Fuck you, asshole! I have rights, you know. Have you ever heard of squatter’s rights? I’ve been here for a while, and you can’t kick me out. This property belongs to me now. So there you go, fucking douche.” What started out as an angry rant escalated into her red-faced and shouting loudly. Marli had risen from her chair, leaning forward, her brown wavy hair framing her delicate features, giving her an angelic look regardless of the bitchy attitude she displayed.
Rising to his full height, Knox towered over her, purposefully invading her personal space.
Her eyes widened and she backed up in fear.
“You listen here, missy. If you dare to call me an asshole, douche, or use the word fuck again, I’ll bare your backside, blistering it. Are we clear?”
Marli had the good sense God gave her and sat down quickly, the tic in her jaw the only indication the fight hadn’t left her but had receded… temporarily.
“That’s better.” He sat back down as well, taking a deep breath he continued. “First, I have no doubt you’ve been here for a bit. But there’s no such thing as squatter’s rights in Massachusetts, not as long as there is proof the property has been owned by someone continuously. And in this case, it was owned by the City of Boston. They transferred it to me upon purchase. So you have no rights, little girl. But I’m willing to discuss your situation, and we can come to an agreement.”
“Discuss what? And what agreement?”
“Well, first, how old are you? And where are your ma and pa?”
The brat rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’m eighteen, and I don’t have any parents. So there.” She snottily huffed, her defiance resurfacing quickly.
“We all have parents—some we like and some we don’t. You can trust me. I’m a soldier and have seen some pretty difficult and very sad situations. How about you get honest with me so I can help you? And, while we’re at it, I’d like to see your license.” He held his right hand out, palm up, waiting for her to put her license in his hand.
She abruptly stood, extracting her license from her back pocket and slapped it into his hand angrily.
Knox barely had time to register her age, when the brat reached across the bar, grabbing a full bottle of beer and flinging it at him full force. “Fuck you, asshole!”
Thankfully, he’d been trained for way too many years to let someone this small with an innocuous weapon assault him. Raising his arm, he deflected the bottle, which smashed into his forearm, before crashing to the floor, spewing beer, foam, and glass everywhere.
“I warned you what would happen.” He bolted up from the barstool, following the brat who crossed the room, bending over to grab her backpack and blanket, only to find herself snatched by the back of her jeans and carried in a jackknifed position back to the bar.
“You nasty sonofabitch, let me go! I’ll fucking kill you. Where’s that gun of yours?”
Tossing the sprite over his knees, he adjusted her until she was over one leg.
Marli grunted with the force of his thighs jamming into her soft belly. Knox kept himself under control, reining in any annoyance. She was petite, bordering on frail in his opinion. His goal was to hurt her backside only. Marlow Ann would soon find out he kept his promises. Knox prided himself on being someone who wasn’t easily riled, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this annoyed at the audacity of someone so small with such a temper.
She threw a fucking beer at me!
She wouldn’t do it again, that’s for sure.
“Oh, no. I don’t want a spanking.” Her voice shook and an edge of fear laced her words, bordering on panic.
“I didn’t ask you what you wanted. You chose this. I warned you and you called me names and threw a beer at me. You’ve earned a good, hard paddling and I’m gonna dole it out too.”
He’d kept his voice hard and stern, but underneath he felt bad for her and didn’t like the tremble in her voice and slender body. But dammit, the little brat earned this, and he was just the man to teach her a lesson.
If it had been someone else she could have been hurt, badly. This wasn’t a good neighborhood and there were derelicts who would see her as nothing but expendable.
Someone needed to teach her how to behave with discretion.
He tugged at her pants, which were about two sizes too big, dragging them with little effort down to her knees. He whisked her pale blue panties down to meet them. As the cotton material was shoved down, he noticed that she’d leaked her juices onto them, the dark wet spot the obvious evidence of her arousal, and her spicy scent filling his nostrils.
Could she be aroused by the conflict and prospect of a spanking?
The light from the window glinted off the slick lips of her pussy. Her sex was shiny and drenched, there was no mistaking it.
Knox’s cock twitched within his pants, hardening uncomfortably with the close proximity of her pretty kitty. She needed a little more meat on her bones as far as he was concerned. He liked his women curvier than this. He didn’t like the idea of crushing a beauty under his muscled frame.
Lifting his right leg, her bottom was lifted higher, her ass yawning open, her little pink pucker and dripping pussy clearly coming into view.
Shaking his head, Knox cleared his head, getting his perspective back in correct order. Spanking the vinegar out of this brat was his top priority.
“I’m going to fucking de-ball you when I get up and force you to eat them. Let. Me. Up.” Marli kicked and punched, doing her best to rock herself off his lap.
Knox knew how to fix this situation, this wasn’t his first rodeo. “Marlow Ann, you need to settle down.”
“Or not.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter to me.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking her close to his body, and then flopped his right leg over both of her legs, keeping her as immobile as he could. He raised his hand and smacked his open palm on her pristine white cheeks, the loud pop gratifying on so many levels, but nothing was more pleasurable than seeing the bright red handprint immediately bloom.
He started harder than he would continue but believed the harsh, fast tone brought the naughty girl through the different phases of discipline quickly. The accelerated spanking brought her through the emotions of anger and fighting straight toward the sobbing phase as an act of kindness.
But until she hit that phase, the clawing, swearing kitten could have made a sailor blush… or a Green Beret. He hadn’t heard the combinations of name calling and cursing this girl had in her repertoire.
I’ll need to take care of this character flaw… fast.
Once she relented, quietly sobbing, limp over his thigh, he eased up on the strength of his swats, but continued in a rhythmic pattern, pausing after a dozen spanks that left her bottom a deep pink. He wouldn’t be stopping until it was red—very red. She’d learn to not cross this soldier again.
He squeezed her ass, massaging her inflamed skin, waiting for her sobs to slow so he could begin lecturing the naughty brat. “I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen.” He brushed his hand along her scorched flesh, watching her juices seep from her sheath.
She’s drenched from her spanking.
Her cries quieted, sniffling and she wriggled over his knees, acknowledging her uncomfortableness with her position, no doubt. Knox would keep her jackknifed, her bottom poised perfectly for the rest of her paddling.
“You will not throw things at me. Understand?”
“Yes!” She spat out the sarcasm-laced answer.
“Oh, no, you didn’t. Yes, Sir is the proper response.” He placed a hard swat to her thigh, stressing his point.
“I’m not Southern, we don’t say Sir.”
He tugged on her left thigh, spreading her legs apart and slapping furiously on the tender inside tissue. “You do now.”
She screeched and howled like he was setting her on fire, and from what he remembered of thigh spankings, that was a pretty apt description. Once the inside of her legs were a bright pink, he rested his hand on her buttock, holding the heat in.
“Now… let’s try again. How do you answer?”
She hiccupped loudly, her hand coming up to swipe at tears on her face. “It h-hurts s-so bad.”
“Was meant to. How do you answer me when I ask a question?”
“Good girl. We’ll get along just fine, you’ll see. I’m not a bad guy, I just demand respect.” He patted her ass lightly, inhaling loudly. “It appears your body likes spankings, girlie. You’re dripping and smell as sweet as honeysuckle.”
Knox chuckled. “No worries, I won’t tell your secret to anyone. Besides, we have more talking to do.”
“N-noooooo. Oh, I. Please… I just… no more spanking, please. Sir.”
Her pleas for mercy tugged on his heart, and relenting was tapping at his conscience, but Knox knew any inconsistency at this point wouldn’t help her, and although she hadn’t agreed yet, he knew they’d be friends and it was better to establish boundaries early on.
“Sorry, Marli, I made a promise. Now, we’ll deal with your language.” He’d keep this part of her punishment hard and quick. No need to drag it out longer than necessary, although a part of him wanted to stare… and play with her pussy for quite a bit longer. He was heady with her scent.
He raised his hand and steeled himself for the task ahead. His hand smacked her still pink ass, her cheeks wobbling pleasantly, and her attempts to evade his smacks had her ass swaying and yawning open even more, leaving none of her treasures hidden from his view.
His cock throbbed, and he had no doubt his balls were completely blue by now, He was glad he had dark pants on, because if his cock was weeping with the evidence of his own need for release, at least it would be hidden from her view.
Her bottom was very red and had him sympathizing at the pain she had endured. Not giving her any time for self-pity, he pulled her off his lap to stand between his legs.
Marli did the age-old spanking dance, reaching around to cup her buttocks, only to find her hands restrained at her sides.
“Nuh-uh, little girl. You’re going to feel the pain until I give you permission, then we’ll calmly discuss your situation and how I may help.” Dropping his gaze to her sweet, shaved pussy, the labia pink with all the rubbing and movement over his lap, he smiled at her, dipping his finger between the tightly sealed lips, tapping her clit.
“And we’ll discuss how you seem to have a submissive side that enjoys spankings as well.”
Her face immediately blushed a beautiful pink and Knox wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or anger causing the flush.
It was then he noticed her eyebrows furrowing and her lips thinning before she snarled, “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, soldier boy.”
Knox jumped up from his barstool, and still gripping her arms in his hands, he turned her around, pressing her upper body onto the bar, leaving her feet off the floor.
“You gonna fuck me, soldier? Put that large, hard cock of yours into my cunt?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking, brat! But, I’m going to give you a good ass-whippin’ first.”
The half-pint of cider tried getting up, her eyes shooting fire toward him. He easily kept her pinned to the bar with one hand, while the other undid the buckle from his belt. He snapped it out of his jeans, the leather whapping loudly as it came out.
Marli’s body shivered and stiffened.
She’s familiar with belt whippings.
The dom in him wanted to take the time to ask her how and when she became familiar, and if there were any triggers. But throwing a beer at him and screaming ‘fuck you’—even after a severe spanking—had nixed that idea.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Tears were streaming down her pink cheeks, the blush so deep it even covered her arms.
“I’m sorry too, Marli Ann, but when you’ve pushed too far, this is the consequence. We’ll see if this makes you sweet again. It won’t be easy, hold on.”
He swung, the strap landing on the meatiest part of her bottom, and although her rear end was more slender than he preferred, it still wobbled appreciatively with the blow.
She clenched, the crack between her buttocks narrowing to a thin straight divide between her cheeks with each lash of the strap.
Normally he would have demanded she soften her ass, avoiding clenching completely, but for today, he’d just mete out the strikes. There would be time enough for structured discipline.
His penis strained against the dark jeans he’d worn and he swore it was hard enough to cut through the material on its own.
“Are you going to stop saying ‘fuck you’ to me? Are you going to speak to me respectfully?”
He continued to thrash her backside with the strip of leather, the whole of her bottom was soon mottled with the pink stripes.
Marli’s anger appeared to be gone, replaced with pathetic sobs and misery. “Yes, S-sir.”
“Let’s be sure.” He swung the belt, giving her six hard stripes, one on top of the other, all on her sit spots. She’d feel those for the next day… maybe two—every time she sat down.
Marli sobbed pitifully, hiccups racking her body and she didn’t offer to move or rub her bottom when he finished.
Knox wove the belt back into his pants, the jingle of the buckle sounding very loud in the quiet room, and it intermingled with the occasional sniffle from the poor girl.
“In the corner.” He pointed to the corner across the room. “Move.”
Marli stood in the corner, confused and hurt. Confused because even though she’d been spanked—harshly—it had turned her on, her clit throbbing incessantly. Her juices pooled at the entrance of her sex and some spilled down her thigh.
She’d never been one of those girls who had pined for a dominant man, someone who would be in charge, taking control over her. No, thanks! She had lived through enough of that with the Martins. She wanted freedom and as few constraints in her life as possible.
Yet, standing here, she found herself turned on, wishing for sex, wishing he’d restrain her over his knee once again.
Staring at the corner, Marli did her best to reconcile the conflicting emotions running through her body.
How can I be aroused from a spanking? Why do I want to fuck him so badly?
She found the soldier gorgeous and his demeanor had disarmed her anger and need to fight quicker than anything had in years. She wasn’t someone who usually backed down from a fight, but here she was, sobbing, standing in a corner, and submitting to this very dominant Green Beret.
Shifting on her feet, the ache in her ass throbbed. The spanking had hurt, but adding the belt to it had magnified her agony. Marli desperately wished to rub her bottom, but didn’t dare, knowing he wouldn’t allow it before she even tried. His demeanor said he wouldn’t tolerate anything that would ease her pain.
“I want you thinking in that corner. Are you contemplating how your behavior caused all of this?”
“Good girl. Keep thinking.”
His booted feet walked around the room, and then the pop of a can let her know that he opened a drink from behind the bar. A loud sigh, and the clink of a glass onto the hard surface of the bar followed by silence was her cue that he was watching and staring at her.
The minutes ticked by slowly, and Marli wished he would just end this. Although she didn’t really know this man, he did seem to be rational and even if he did paddle her ass, she had to admit that she asked for it by throwing a beer at him.
“Come back over here.”
His deep voice reverberated through her core. How can a voice do this to a person?
Pivoting, she turned to face him, her pants down to her ankles and shuffled up to him.
“I want you back over the bar so I can inspect your ass.”
Marli stared at him, wondering if she should ignore him completely.
It isn’t worth it, Marli.
Hoisting herself up, she rested her belly against the hard bar, her feet dangling, and just knowing he was staring at her ass and pussy had her dripping with need.
Dear God, I hope he doesn’t see how aroused I am. I just need him to fuck me.
“Well, my, my… Miss Marli. What do we have here?” Knox slid his finger along the inside of her thigh, and she gasped, hissing between her teeth, the skin still sensitive. He scooped up the clear juices, sucking his finger loudly. “You’re literally dripping down your leg, girl. You feeling turned on, Marlow?”
“I—maybe… I don’t know.”
Knox unzipped his pants, his cock jutting out, the weight of his hot penis heavy in his hand.
Miss Marli had turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him, her pupils dilating and she subconsciously began licking her lips at the sight of his long cock.
“That’s right, bad girl. Sounds nice, doesn’t it?’
She didn’t answer, didn’t have to. Her spicy scent filled the air, her arousal easing down her inner thigh. She wanted this as much as he did… maybe more.
It had been a while since he’d been with a woman, and this woman was more than ready for him. Her eyes and sex assured him that she wanted him. Needed him. This wasn’t how he had planned for his day to go, but he sure as fuck wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.
Her red ass was still hot. Rubbing his hand over the inflamed flesh, he brushed along the silky skin, watching her clench and unclench her buttocks. Although she was skinnier than he liked his women, her ass was plump and meaty. His cock jerked in response, cum oozing from the head.
Lining up his cock, Knox eased it through her pussy, coating his length with her excess juices, and with methodical slowness, he slipped into her.
Marli’s slick, tight channel hugged his girth and she groaned, her ass pushing back, forcing him deeper.
“That’s right, girl. Take me. All of me.” He swirled his length within her, gliding along her G-spot. Her hips jerked in response, her arousal gushing over the head of his cock.
“Fuck.” He couldn’t guarantee he’d last long enough to allow her to come first, but he’d do his best. He never left a woman unsatisfied, and she’d be coming with a scream and shout soon if he had his way.
He bumped against the mouth of her womb, his teeth gritting and his eyes rolling back. It was going to take every bit of the strength he had to hold back his ejaculation.
“You like my hard cock in your cunt, girl? Have you ever fucked a soldier before?”
He thrust into her hard. “It’s fucking fantastic, right?” His cock pounded into her, skating along her slick inner tissue, hammering her with each word.
“Yes, Sir. Fuck me! Oh, Jesus. It’s… so fucking hard… and long.”
She likes dirty talk. Fucking fantastic! How did I luck out with this girl?
“That’s right, brat. This is what you deserve, isn’t it?” He pistoned into her, his balls tightening, tingling.
“You deserve a hard, rough fucking, don’t you?”
Her small, delicate hands clawed at the bar counter, seeking purchase along the gleaming wood.
His hands gripped her tightly, steadying her body while he thrust into her mercilessly, his cock battering the walls of her sex.
“Yes, Sir. So… rough. Oh, shit!”
“Take it all, girl. Every bit of it.” His fingers dug into her hips.
Those will be bruises later.
And her hot, freshly spanked ass rubbed against his groin, and he became frenzied, ramming into her tight, hot cunt.
“Fuck. Me. Fuck. Me! I’m coming!” She screeched and stilled only briefly before her frenetic, spasmodic movements along with her pussy gripping him in a vise-like hold had him growling through his teeth.
“Oh… Fuck!” Knox spurted his hot seed into her. The tight walls of her sex strangled every last drop of cum from him. Panting wildly, he collapsed against her back, only partially realizing she too gasped for air against the counter of his bar.
Tremors and quakes of her orgasm rocked her body.
On one violent quiver of her slender frame, his partially erect cock slipped from her, the air cool on his moist member, sticky with their juices.
“That was… Jesus Christ, soldier boy, that was fucking amazing.” Her face was red with her sexual flush. She looked absolutely gorgeous—and adorable.
What the fuck have I done?
Knox stiffened, quickly righting himself and tucking his once again hardening cock into his pants, ignoring the fact his body was aroused in record time.
How is this possible?
How had he fucked someone he’d just met, let alone someone half his age?
Clearing her throat, she pulled her pants up, running her hands through her hair, tidying up the wavy pile of curls, as women do after sex.
Clearing his throat, Knox said, “Hey, I’m—”
“No, don’t even say it. I don’t fucking want to hear it. I wanted it too.”
It was his turn to clear his throat. “I just… yeah, you’re right. The less talk about it the better.” Adjusting his stance, he put a hand on his hip and tilted his head in her direction.
“What?” Marli raised her eyebrows, shaking her head minutely.
“Who said you could pull your pants up? I want you in the corner.”
“Oh. So fucking my cunt wasn’t enough to end this?”
“Watch it, girl! That damn sassy mouth of yours has gotten your bottom blistered twice today. You want a third?” Pointing to a corner away from windows and the door, Knox said, “That one. Pull them down when you get over there.”
She stared at him silently, sizing up the struggle and his demeanor.
Are we going to tussle again?
Finally, she stomped her foot on the floor, and with a loud exhale, she pounded her feet on the hardwood floors while crossing the room. Once in the corner, without any further incentive, she undid her pants, skimming both the pants and panties to her knees.
Who says discipline doesn’t work?
Before flopping onto his barstool, Knox pulled a beer out of the fridge, and drew on it tightly, sighing loudly after the cold brew went down his throat.
Christ, it’s only fucking noon.
He watched her shuffling in the corner, more angry than repentant, and he couldn’t help but smile when he watched his creamy semen slither down her leg.
Was there anything better than marking a woman? Claiming and seizing her.
Where the fuck did that come from?
When Knox cleared his throat, Marli jumped, peeking over her shoulder, her eyes wide with fear.
He’d need to rectify the situation. Poor girl. She didn’t need to be afraid of him. She needed to respect him without question… and it shouldn’t be a problem now. But fear him? Hell, no.
“Come here, Marlow Ann. Keep your pants down.”