he murmurs.
Oh! He removes his bow tie and uses it to quickly bind
my wrists so that my hands are tied behind me, resting in
the small of my back.
“You really want this, Anastasia?”
I close my eyes. This is the first time since I met him
that I really want this. I need it.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Why?” he asks softly as he caresses my behind with
“Why?” he asks softly as he caresses my behind with
his palm.
I groan as soon as his hand makes contact with my
skin. I don’t know why . . . You tell me not to
overthink. After a day like today—arguing about the
money, Leila, Mrs. Robinson, the dossier on me, the
roadmap, this la一vish party, the masks, the alcohol, the
silver balls, the auction . . . I want this.
“Do I need a reason?”
“No, baby, you don’t,” he says. “I’m just trying to
understand you.” His left hand curls round my waist,
holding me in place as his palm lea一ves my behind and lands
hard, just above the junction of my thighs. The pain
connects directly with the ache in my belly
Oh man . . . I moan loudly. He hits me again, in
exactly the same place. I groan again.
“Two,” he murmurs. “We’ll go with twelve.”
Oh my! This feels different than the last time—so
carnal, so . . . necessary. He caresses my behind with his
long-fingered hands, and I’m helpless, trussed up and
pressed into the mattress, at his mercy, and of my own
free will. He hits me again, slightly to the side, and again, to
the other side, then pauses as he slowly peels my panties
down and pulls them off. He gently trails his palm across
my behind again before continuing my spanking—each
stinging smack taking the edge off my need—or fueling it
—I don’t know. I surrender myself to the rhythm of
blows, absorbing each one, sa一voring each one.
“Twelve,” he murmurs his voice low and harsh. He
caresses my behind again and trails his fingers down
caresses my behind again and trails his fingers down
toward my sex and slowly sinks two fingers inside me,
moving them in a circle, round and round and round,
torturin
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