My lips slam shut in an attempt to actually stay quiet. Just two words are enough to stiffen my spine. All the anxiety from tossing and turning and staring at my balcony last night crashes back into me.
“You truly fucked up, Annika.” He pushes me backward with his commanding hold on my elbow. “I told you to give up on the fake boyfriend idea, but you went ahead and provoked me. You. Fucked. Up. You’re lucky I didn’t jump through your window and turn your skin red.”
A gasp echoes in the air and I realize it’s mine as my back hits one of the shelves. Creighton still has my elbow hostage, his body pressed against mine.
I’m sure he can feel my heaving chest and hear my choked breaths that rise over the sound of the music.
This is the first time I’ve witnessed this side of him, and it’s eliciting all sorts of emotions—fear, dread, but also thrill and anticipation.
The type I’ve never experienced before.
“What did I say would happen if you didn’t do as you were told?” His deep voice floats in the air and lands on my constricting chest.
I gulp the saliva that’s gathered in my mouth. For the first time, he’s the talkative one and I’m speechless, grappling for words and finding nothing.
“What the fuck did I say, Annika?”
I flinch at the whip of his commanding words and blurt, “That you would acquaint me with pain.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when he spins me around. A yelp escapes me as he grabs hold of my ponytail and shoves my head against a plastic bag of dog food.
That’s when I realize that I’m bent over, ass in the air, with him right behind me.
Strong fingers lift the skirt of my dress to my waist and a gust of air hits my bottom. Goosebumps erupt on my skin in terrifying succession and my temperature rises until I’m boiling.
“You should’ve listened, little purple. You really shouldn’t have provoked me.” He strokes his hand across my ass cheek and over my lace panties. His touch is sure, dominant, disallowing even an ounce of resistance.
I try to stare back, wanting—no, needing—to see his expression. The grip on my hair tightens, letting me know who’s in complete control here.
“You’ve been wiggling this little arse for weeks and it’s time to discipline it.” His chest covers my back—heavy, hot, and powerful. Then his whisper follows in my ear, “And you.”
“Creigh…” His name comes out like a haunted whisper. “Please.”
I don’t know what I’m begging for. For him to stop? To take this a step further? Test my limits to the point where I won’t be able to come back from this?
What exactly?
He pushes off me, his body heat leaving mine, but his merciless grip remains on my ponytail. “I didn’t ask you to beg yet. When I do, it’ll be much worse than this.”
What—
My thoughts are interrupted by his firm command, “Now, count to ten or we’ll start from scratch.”
A slap echoes in the air and my mouth opens in a wordless gasp. Pain erupts on my ass cheek, hot and fierce. But I don’t even focus on that when his hand meets my flesh again, harder than the first time.
So hard that my front bumps against the shelves and my legs shake.
“I don’t hear you counting.” His voice has darkened, becoming shadowy and rich with dominance. “We’ll go again.”
The slap collides with the mounting music and I whimper, “One.”
He smacks my ass again and a sob tears from my throat, mixed with the crescendo of the song and my raw breathing.
“T-two.”
The air is weighed down with a cloak of depravity and twisted emotions. I never imagined I would be in this position, held down, ass in the air, being spanked.
But maybe this is exactly what I’ve been yearning to learn ever since he warned me away.
Ever since he told me about his deviant tastes.
Maybe this is why I provoked him. I didn’t do it on purpose, but deep down, in the black corners of my mind, I wanted to see him…snap.
I just had no idea that it’d be this brutal. Or that I would have this foggy reaction to it.
His hand comes down on my flesh again with the ruthlessness of a whip.
“From now on, when I tell you to do something, you do it.” Slap. “If I warn you, you don’t ignore me.” Slap. “You’ll listen to fucking orders.” Slap. “You will obey me.” Slap.
“Three, f-four, five, six.” I grab onto the shelves with a death grip. My nails dig into the metal as sweat trickles down my back.
My pretty purple dress is all crumpled and squashed by his overwhelming ruthlessness, but that’s the least of my worries.
Tears sting my eyes, and it’s not only because of the pain.
Tchaikovsky almighty.I really hope it’s only due to the throbbing of my assaulted ass.
My thighs clench and my core aches, pulsating with an animalistic need. When he slaps me three times in a row again, I rock forward, bumping my clit against the shelf below.
Bursts of pleasure knot the base of my stomach and I close my eyes, my voice turning deeper, erotic. “Seven, eight, nine.”
My breaths form condensation on the metal and I welcome the small reprieve and the break from pain.
He slaps my ass, and I haven’t even finished whispering “Ten” when he shoves my thighs apart in one motion. His fingers dig into my skull and he yanks me back with his grip on my hair, forcing my eyes to shoot open.
The back of my head rests on his hard chest as he whispers in my ear with chill-inducing intensity, “You haven’t earned the right to come.”
I twist my head the slightest bit, and for the first time since he started his ‘punishment,’ I’m able to see his face.
And I’m not ready for the scene.
It’s like I’m looking at an entirely different person. His breaths are ragged, causing his chest to inflate and deflate in a rapid rhythm that still simmers with calm, and his face—damn his stone-cold face that’s caught in eternal blankness and oozes control to the brim.
His eyes, however, tell a completely different story. Yes, there’s that display of dominance, sadism even, but they’re masking something a lot deeper.
An emotion a lot darker.
And I wish I could reach inside him and tug those emotions out. Even if that means I’d get swooped up in the process.
My assaulted ass rubs against his jeans and I whimper, both at the pain and the expression on his face.
Though the first has dimmed compared to the throbbing between my legs.
His jaw clenches and his eyes flash to my parted lips. “I thought pain scared you, so how come you get off on it?”
I try to shake my head, but it’s impossible with his grip on my hair.
“I can smell your arousal. It’s permeating the fucking air.” His fingers spread against my panties. “When did you become this soaking wet, hmm? Was it before or after I spanked your little arse? Maybe during? Did you get turned on by the thought of being owned by me? Did you picture my cock tearing through your cunt until you screamed and choked on my name?”
My lips part.
Holy. Shit.
Who thought the quiet Creighton had such a dirty mouth? It’s almost like I’m meeting another version of him.
One whose every secret I want to unwrap and flounder in every splash of its darkness.
My hips rock against his hand, basically dry humping him, and he doesn’t remove it. Instead, his fingers push my panties to the side and glide against my folds.
His voice lowers against my earlobe. “Now is the time to beg.”
My heart nearly jumps in my throat as I murmur, “Please.”
“Please what? Say the whole sentence.”
Damn it. I’ve never spoken such vulgar words out loud, but I don’t really have a choice now.
He has me completely at his mercy.
“P-please make me come.”
His jaw tics once, twice, and then he shoves two fingers inside me. I reel from the pressure as it mounts and mounts until I’m unable to breathe.
The stimulation from earlier rushes to the surface and I reach a hand out and grab onto his side, my nails sinking in his shirt.
“Hand down,” he orders in a frigid voice, and I let go. My arms lie limp at my sides as a knot forms in my chest.
His thumb teases my clit with staggering expertise. He’s not only dominant, but he also knows exactly what he’s doing and how. I’ve used a few toys and my fingers before, but none of them compare to the wild intensity that’s shaking my limbs.
Pleasure bursts through me all at once and I have no hope to last. My raw moans overlap with the music as I fall apart around his fingers.
The wave submerges me and the pulsing welts on my ass elongate the pleasure, making it more potent.
By the time I come down from it, Creighton is staring at me with that suffocating darkness again.
That need for more.
More.
And more.
At this point, I’m not sure I can stop him from taking what he wants.
Hell, maybe I’ll even enjoy it.
His lashes lower, blocking his emotions, as he slides his fingers out and steps back. My legs wobble and I use the shelves as an anchor to remain standing.
My harsh breathing fills the storage room and it’s only then I realize someone could’ve walked in and seen the entire unorthodox scene.
Shit.
Creighton shoves a hand in his jeans pocket and glares at me, and the look is enough to make me shiver.
What’s wrong with him now? He looks even more tense than when he walked into the storage room.
And he’s suppressing something again. What, I don’t know.
“Defy me again and this punishment will look like child’s play in comparison to what I’ll do to you.”
9
ANNIKA
It’s a miracle that I manage to reach the dorm without having an accident.
I haven’t been able to focus on anything except for the throbbing pain in my ass, the clenching of my thighs in remembrance, and the tightening in my chest.
Something must be wrong with me.
Seriouslywrong.
Because I can’t help replaying what happened in the storage room over and over until I choke on the carnal memories.
Until my heart threatens to burst and my head fills with all sorts of depraved theories.
And images.
His hand on my ass, his fingers inside me, my hair at his mercy. My whole body homed in on his ruthless dominance.
I’ve always thought I would be the type who likes respectful sex, the ‘can we do it tonight’ sex, the ‘we’ll have a date, then eat and touch each other in the dark’ type.
So what if I somehow ended up watching hardcore porn once or twice—okay, maybe a few times. That was only curiosity, a fantasy, and had nothing to do with my real-life preferences.
But those preferences and every single perception I had about myself have been shattered to pieces in a single encounter with Creighton.