In Your Corner
Page 70

 Sarah Castille

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Smack. He hits my other cheek, harder this time and pain radiates down my thighs. Then he alternates side to side, never striking the same place twice. The sound of his sharp, hard slaps on my skin fills the room, a curiously erotic sound that makes my sex tingle despite the burn.
Instinctively, I tug against the restraints and instantly understand the appeal. Without them, I might have turned around and given back what he gave me: a few slaps on the chest, maybe a punch to the jaw. With them, I am totally at his mercy, but I’m not afraid. Deep inside, I know Jake would never hurt me. Relieved of the burden of having to decide how much of myself to give, I let go and the burn turns into gut-churning arousal.
Jake rubs his hand lightly over my heated skin. “Beautiful.” His fingers slip between my thighs and glide along my dripping folds.
“You like being spanked.” He gives a satisfied grunt and then eases two fingers inside me. “So hot, baby. So wet.”
With a whimper, I rock up on my toes, riding his fingers as hard as I dare. “Can’t take any more.”
He presses his hand against my lower back, pinning my hips to the table. “I decide how much you can take, and I know you can take a lot more.”
I brace myself for more smacks, but instead, he eases a third finger inside me and pushes in deep. My body tenses up so tight I can barely breathe. But with his hand on my lower back, I can’t move, can’t rock, can’t even squirm or writhe or wriggle. I am helpless, spread open, impaled by the relentless thrust of his fingers, and I am hotter and wetter than I have ever been in my life.
My need escapes in a low, guttural groan and sweat sheets my body.
“I’ll take care of you, baby, but I need you ready. You have me wound up so tight, I’m gonna be rough when I slide between those sweet thighs, but when I come, I want you coming with me.” He angles his fingers inside me and rubs over my sensitive tissue. Heaviness curls low in my belly and I ease my legs farther apart to give him better access.
“Good girl. Now relax for me.”
Relax? Not with every muscle in my body tense and aching, my need coiled tight and ready to spring. Not with my calves burning and my thighs shaking and my ni**les rock hard and pressed painfully against the table. I am primed and ready to detonate, not relax. “I…can’t.”
“Wrong answer.” He pulses his fingers against my G-spot and the heaviness in my womb increases in intensity until moisture gushes from my body and I am engulfed in a tidal wave of sensation, deep, fierce, and unrelenting—a low roll of thunder instead of the sharp crack of lightning. My G-spot orgasm pounds through my body overwhelming every nerve, every fiber, every tissue of my being, and when I am finally able to suck in a breath, it rips a scream out of me that doesn’t end until I am limp on the table.
“Christ.” Jake’s voice in my ear is thick with desire, and only then am I aware he is leaning over me, covering me with his body, holding me through the last waves and tremors of my climax.
“You still with me, baby?”
Unable to speak or move and barely able to think, I whimper, resting my cheek against the cool surface of the table.
Jake eases away, and I hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper and the whisper of latex.
“Need you now.” His voice drops to a low, husky growl. “Never seen anything so f**king hot in my life.” His hand cups the curve of my sex and he circles my throbbing clit with his finger. Almost instantly I am shot back to the peak of arousal, and I draw in a ragged breath.
“I can’t, Jake. Not again.”
“You can.”
He grips my hips, and with one hard thrust, he is inside me, his piercing scraping over my swollen, overly sensitive tissue. I let out a long, low wail, and then he drives in farther, filling me until my inner muscles clench around him.
“You got me running so f**king wild.” He groans, twists his hand through my hair, and yanks my head back as he rocks hard inside me, and my whimpers melt into a deep, guttural moan.
“Oh God, Jake. Fuck me.”
My words set him off. He pulls out and drives forward, his piercing tearing a sob from my throat as it slides over my swollen, oversensitized G-spot. With his free hand, he grips my hip and moves faster, harder, deeper, riding me until my breaths come in short, choked pants, and I am slick with sweat and need and poised on the edge of a cliff so high I am afraid to jump.
“Now, baby.” He slides his hand over the curve of my hip to my throbbing clit and gives it a merciless pinch.
I come. Screaming. Falling. Splintering into a million pieces as a tidal wave of pleasure rushes through me, pounding in time to the frantic beating of my heart.
And Jake is with me, shouting his release as he comes with one last hard thrust, his c**k pulsing against my swollen inner tissue. Then he collapses on top of me and for a long moment we don’t move.
“My baby’s so f**king hot.” He presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “So damn beautiful it hurts.”
Finally, he releases the restraints and carries me to the bed then disappears to dispose of his condom. My heart pounds violently in my chest, and I am caught in a maelstrom of emotions so thick I can barely breathe. Every time we’re together, he pushes me further. What if he doesn’t stop? He’s a fighter, and fighters fight until the opponent breaks. Anxiety surges through me like a tidal wave, and I push myself up to sitting just when Jake climbs up beside me and gently strokes my cheek.
“Breathe.”
“Jake…”