"Is this your fantasy, or mine?"
He moaned as I took him in my mouth once more. Up and down, sliding his wet dick between my lips. His hips began to move and thrust toward me.
It was hard to breathe but I focused on my goal. If I could give him one-tenth of the pleasure he'd given me, it'd be worth it.
The connection between us had been tender, but as I moved my tongue around him, things started to change. His short, shallow breaths were urgent, and tension formed in his leg under my hand. Everything started to feel darker and needier.
Had he reached a breaking point? He pulled me off of him and got us both onto our feet. I was dizzy with the quick movement, and as I tried to steady myself, I fell forward, bracing my hands on my bed. I didn't fall. He pushed me
His voice was deep and seductive. "I shouldn't have let you do that. You're such a bad girl."
He set his hand in the center of my back, and shoved me face-down against the mattress.
"Say it," he commanded.
"I'm a bad girl."
"Yeah, you are." The back of my dress began to lift. "Making me want you, when I can't. When I shouldn't." he seemed to be grumbling to himself. "Making me feel guilty when I jerk off thinking about you."
I knew what that looked like because he'd shown me, and an incredibly sexy image of him laying in bed, jerking off in a fast pace, thinking about me.
"But I can't stop," he continued. The dress was lifted up to my hips, exposing the lace. His strong hand fumbled over it, and then moved down. It lingered between my legs, brushing a single knuckle over my aching center.
"What happens to bad girls, Riley?"
"They get punished." I felt his hand smack me. The sting radiated through my body. I bit on my bottom lip. No one had ever hit me before. Not Peyton, not my mom, and certainly not the father I'd never met.
"You deserved that," Anthony said in a seductive tone, "didn't you?"
His second strike had no forewarning and stole my breath away. When he spanked me, the guilt went away, and I craved the release from my emotions as badly as I did an orgasm.
Anthony's breathing increased as he asked unevenly, "Do you need another?"
I felt like a child being spanked. Was I viewed as a child in Anthony's eyes? Peyton and I were the same age.
I didn't want to be thinking about my ex. I felt another blow to my skin, followed by a whimper of pain. "Again," I begged.
"This is.... so fucked up," he said, but then his palm searched across my skin with another slap. And another. My skin was hot and irritated, but it felt so good and turned me on.
"Whose fantasy is this?" I asked as he continued to spank me, each one harder and louder.
"Ours," he whispered in my ear.
Our moans mixed together, although mine was louder, I shuddered through the orgasm, barely aware of anything but him.
I heard him unwrap something then came back behind me, slowly sliding inside me.
"Oh my god. Please."
He pulled my waist against him, pulling me back onto him. He was so hard inside me I couldn't focus.
We stayed motionless, breathing and enjoying the way it felt. I might die from this man. His commands were intense. Would I survive him?
I reached a hand back and put it on his hip, trying to tell him I was ready. He grasped my elbow in one hand, and then the fingers on his other hand grabbed the end of my ponytail. He pulled me off the bed, arching me and drew his hips back slowly until he slammed inside me, so deep and hard, it was close to being painful but I loved it.
"You like that?"
He did it again. And again. His grip on my hair began to ache, but I kept quiet. As his tempo increased, his grasp on my arm tightened, drawing me further back toward him so my spine was shaped like a U. He pounded into me, our bodies slamming together with a punishing rhythm and it was hot.
"Fuck Riley, I can't get enough of you."
I nearly came right then. No one ever talked to me like that. His dirty words and rough actions were two perfect things to combine into a form of sin. I felt used, which was exactly what I needed. It was what I wanted from him.
He drove his cock into me, pushing me to the edge of what I could take, but never crossed over to be mean. He's been having sex for more than twenty years, and he learned a think or two on how to do it.
Every inch of me burnt in flames as my mind focused on one goal. To make him cum.
"I'm gonna cum. You're going to make me fucking cum, Riley."
I went first, him only a few seconds before me. We both collapsed forward, his heavy chest crushing mine. His rapid breathing filled my ear, stopping only for a moment while he pressed a seductive kiss to the side of my throat.
"I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."