Page 36 of Collared Mate

My hips begin to move a little every time he spanks me. His thighs are hard and muscular beneath me, and a little motion makes my clit grind satisfyingly against the ridge of his leg. It feels good. So fucking good. Almost better than normal sexy stuff does because I am so sensitized by everything he’s doing to me.

I get away with it for several minutes, until I hear him mutter under his breath. “Are you serious?”

The spanking stops and I still myself and hold my breath, though the last part is probably not necessary. Or helpful.

He keeps one arm wrapped around my waist to make escaping him impossible, and he moves his hand between my thighs and slowly draws his fingers up the intersection until they run over my lower lips. I have to bite back a little moan as his fingers gently stroke my pussy, finding my delicate sex all swollen and aroused.

“You’re soaked,” he says, his voice holding arousal, gentle admonishment, and a little bit of exasperation.

“Is that a problem?”

“Not for you, apparently,” he says. “I try to punish your deserving ass, and this is how you react. It turns you on. You’ve learned nothing.”

I have to giggle as he says that, because he’s absolutely right. I’ve learned nothing, except maybe the fact that I like spanking?

He spanks me harder then, hard enough to make me yelp. Then his hand goes back between my legs, and his thumb presses directly against my clit, holding it down there like he’s holding a button in place.

My reaction is to start squirming and whining, because it feels good, but it’s not giving me enough to really experience all the pleasure I know I could. It keeps me right on the edge of something. Not quite orgasm, but more pleasure, more stroking. I’d even take more spanking at this point if he’d give it.

“Stay still,” he says firmly. “I’m going to train this naughty pussy of yours before I breed it again.”

I can’t help grinding my hips anyway, immediately defying him.

“You really have to push everything, don’t you,” he says with a smirking sigh. A moment later, I feel the sting of his fingers again, but this time they are landing across the very delicate lips of my pussy.

“You can’t spank me there!” I object at full volume, only to be more or less immediately proven wrong. He can spank my pussy. He can spank my pussy, my ass, and my thighs. I learn this via the demonstration he provides in very short order.

“I can spank any part of you I want, brat,” he growls down at me. “And I think I am going to spend some time proving that to you, as you seem to think you are untouchable in general. I can promise you, Fiona. You are not.”

That might be one of the hottest things he’s ever said, or maybe I think that because his fingers are now roaming my pussy, stroking my slick lips, even sliding down to the very entrance of my body to tease me there with shallow little strokes inside me.

I feel completely dominated, and very soft as he starts to play with me, still keeping me in that embarrassing over the knee position as he demonstrates his ownership of my body. Little moans escape my lips with every new touch.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, praising me unexpectedly. “You took your pussy spanking better than the regular one. Maybe this is where I should be teaching you lessons, hmm? Maybe this sweet little cunt needs to be what I punish?”

His words are so fucking hot I feel my inner walls clench in response, fresh arousal coursing through me.

“It is, isn’t it,” he growls. “You need to be taught a proper lesson in manners by having it fucked into you.”

I can’t disagree with him because I can’t disagree with anything. I am in a state of arousal that has been stoked by the spanking and put me into a state where any of his touches feel good. He starts to pat my clit, not hard enough to hurt. Not even hard enough to be very stimulating. Just enough to make me feel the pressure coming and going and make my hips squirm in the hopes of getting more.

“But that’s what you want,” he muses, running his fingertips around my clit lightly, just around the edge. Not enough to feel very good, but enough, again, to make me want more.

“I think the best punishment for you at this point,” he continues, letting the tip of his finger slide into my pussy a fraction of an inch, “would be to finish spanking you and put you to bed, forbidding you to touch yourself.”

“You can’t stop me.”

He chuckles then, and there is real amusement in it, along with some pity. Like he knows exactly what he is going to do to me, and that I am going to regret it.

But nothing changes right away; he keeps teasing and touching me, circling my clit, tapping my mound with slaps that are sometimes just sharp enough to make that little bud tingle before rubbing the sensation away and changing it to something warmer. He is patient in ways I am not. I find my aroused mind realizing how capable Henry probably is. Rick must have thought he was gone forever, but now he’s back and a force to be reckoned with after years of plotting. And now I am in his bed, over his knee, my hips arching as I silently beg him to fuck me. Henry is a fucking mastermind and I am caught up in his plot. Every teasing little touch to my clit, every stroke along the increasingly wet lips of my sex is another demonstration of his power.

I want him so badly. I want him to take me, to fuck me, I don’t even mind that he spanked me anymore. Maybe I want more of that too. I crave the feeling of safety that comes from being under his control.

He slides his finger into me, but only up to the second knuckle and then it is gone again. I am empty and wet and wanting and he has me pinned in place in a way that means I can’t do anything to relieve my desire.

“Fuck,” I curse softly.

“What was that, dear?”