Tempted by a Dangerous Man by Cleo Peitsche Page B

the way down. After I stepped out of them, he balled them up and stuffed them into my mouth.
    I could taste myself, taste my own excitement.  
    Thwack. “Eight,” I tried to say. But of course I couldn’t.  
    And the spanking only grew in intensity. Even through the humiliation and pain, I realized that the harder he spanked me, the more my pussy clenched.  
    He slapped the brush against my ass twice more, then eased my fingers away from my dripping sex. I felt his cock take up the position, the bulbous head nudging my folds, pressing forward. Corbin must have taken himself in hand because then he was properly positioned.
    I started to spit out the gag.  
    “Leave it,” Corbin said, and I dropped my hand. “You’ve got me all worked up tonight, and I want to fuck you hard.” The brush landed on the bed, well out of my reach.
    He thrust forward a little, then wrapped his large hands around my waist and drove deep, slamming into me and practically knocking me off my feet. His masculine groan of pleasure hung in the otherwise quiet room.
    He pulled back, and I could hear how wet I was. “Yeah,” he moaned. “Oh, yeah.” He held me steady and drilled into my pussy, bouncing the backs of my thighs off the front of his.
    I felt like a sex toy yo-yo, violently shoved away, then yanked back, starting the excruciating process from the beginning again. Corbin fucked me hard. He hadn’t exaggerated about that, and when he repositioned his hands on my hips, I put my hands over his in a wordless plea for mercy.
    Though if mercy was what I truly wanted, I knew the hand signal for it.
    Instead, I felt Corbin’s grip tighten on me. I could feel that he was breathing heavily, panting. Oh, his cock felt amazing in me, so hard, so relentless. Demanding and insatiable.
    Corbin was a man who knew how he liked his sex, and he knew how to take it, too.  
    Just when I thought I couldn’t stand any more, he hooked his arms around my chest and waist, lifted me up off the floor, and carried me forward to the bed. With each step, I bounced on his cock. Gently, he lowered me facedown onto the soft sheets.  
    The torture brush was just next to me, and I watched in horror as he picked it up.
    I shook my head emphatically, signaling to him that I did not want to get spanked, but of course, he ignored me, would always ignore anything that wasn’t either my safe word or gesture.
    If only I’d been able to talk, I would have suggested that he risked accidentally hitting himself. Or I could have pleaded with him. But I was gagged and helpless, and Corbin had his heart set on drawing out the evening’s punishment.  
    “Such a good girl,” he said. He stroked his empty hand down my back, and I relaxed under his touch with a muffled whimper.  
    He grabbed a pillow, lifted me up and shoved it under my hips. Now I was positioned so that more of my ass was tilted up in the air and accessible to him.
    “Feels great,” he soothed as he pressed his cock in. “You are…” He squeezed one of my ass cheeks. “Made for spanking. It will take forever to catch you up on all the punishment that you deserve but never received. But it needs to be done, baby. I think we agree on that.”
    There was a tenderness to his voice when he said the last bit, and some soft part of me melted. Rough or tender… Corbin always seemed to change things when I least expected him to. It was like he knew that I’d gotten my defenses up in one area, and then he came at me from another direction.  
    Well, there was one huge benefit to being gagged: no risk of confessing my unreasonable and unwanted love for him.  
    That small relief soon disappeared, though. Corbin slapped the back of the brush against my butt twice, then began fucking me, driving me into the pillows. He punctuated each thrust with a sharp little spank.
    When I tried to push his hands away, he easily grabbed my wrists and pinned my hands to my lower back. All this without missing a beat, although