13

Jennifer

I was losing control.

A rush of embarrassment and defiance surged through me, mixed with a strange, intense heat. His teasing was relentless, his gaze never leaving me as he kept pushing me to the edge of something I couldn’t define. Every touch, every look sent my pulse racing, and I couldn’t help but tremble in response. I felt both furious and utterly exposed, caught between anger and something much darker, more dangerous.

“You want to lose control, don’t you?” he growled, his words cutting through the haze of desire clouding my thoughts.

I wanted to scream, to fight back, but the words were trapped inside me. All I could do was glare at him, frustrated and humiliated at how much I was starting to crave his dominance.

“Don’t make me wait,” he said, his voice low, threatening. “You’ll get what you want. I’ll give you what you deserve.”

I clenched my fists, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. But the more he pushed, the more my resolve started to crumble. Was he right? Was this all I wanted from him? Was I truly this weak? His smirk grew as if he could hear my thoughts.

“You think you can resist me?” he taunted, his eyes dark with a hunger that sent a shiver down my spine. “You can’t.”

I opened my mouth to respond, to tell him off, but the words died in my throat. The power in his gaze, the way he seemed to know everything about me, made me feel small and insignificant. I wanted to fight, but my body was betraying me. My mind was hazy, clouded with desire I couldn’t deny.

He pulled out his phone, and before I could even react, he showed me the screen. A video. Me, caught in a moment of vulnerability. My face flushed with shame, the realization hitting me hard.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know?” he asked, his voice colder now. “You’re mine. You’ll do exactly what I say.”

I didn’t want to give in. I didn’t want to be this weak. But with every command, every flicker of his eyes, I was losing the fight. It was becoming too much—too much to resist, too much to control.

The tension in the room thickened. His presence, his commanding words, wrapped around me like chains, pulling me deeper into a web of desire and submission. My heart hammered in my chest as I realized that no matter how much I fought it, he had me exactly where he wanted me.

I met his gaze, defiance still burning in my chest, but I knew. I knew that I was already past the point of no return.

The battle inside me raged on—fury, shame, desire—all tangled together. And somewhere deep down, I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to escape him. Not anymore.

The room seemed to fade away, and all that remained was his hand on my ass and the sound of his voice in my ears.

“This is going to hurt,” he warned and then he released my hair and I tried to balance myself once again.

I didn’t want to fall flat on my face.

Before I knew what was happening, his other hand was pulling down my shorts and my panties. I tried to reach back and stop him, but I pitched forward and immediately pulled my hand back, trying to grab ahold of his ankle and balance myself.

Oh, shit.

One of his hands pressed against my lower back, pinning me in place and I couldn’t help but sigh with relief simply at the fact that I wasn’t about to fall, but my relief was short-lived as I realized something else.

My ass was bare.

I opened and closed my mouth, shame and arousal pulsing through me, unhindered and undeniable.

Part of me liked it.

Part of me didn’t.

“Put me down,” I demanded.

He didn’t listen.

I closed my eyes as he tugged my shorts and panties further down to the middle of my thighs, exposing the most private parts of me. I must have blushed crimson because the heat enveloping my face burned red hot.

Nobody had ever seen me like this before.

Even when Dane and I had sex that one time, we’d done it in my bedroom with the lights off after he’d snuck in through the window late at night.

And now Vincent was staring right at my bare ass and my soaking wet pussy. I tried to press my thighs together to hide myself, but even I realized that it was useless.

He was going to see everything whether I wanted him to or not.

The problem was there was a very deep part of me that wanted him to look, to see what he did to me, to know that he had complete control over me.

A thrill raced through me at the thought, and I swallowed hard.

Positively insane, you whore.

“I’ve imagined taking you over my knee many times, little girl, but now that you’re here with your ass bare, ready and waiting for your spanking, you’re even prettier than I could have ever imagined,” he observed.

“I hate you,” I scoffed, trying to squirm off his leg once more and again losing my balance.

“Your pussy says otherwise, bad girl,” he said. His words made my stomach flip and my pussy clench.

How was he doing this to me?

His hand was still pressed firmly against the small of my back, keeping me securely in place. Then his other hand brushed against my bare cheeks, and I tensed a little, surprised at the heat in his touch. Slowly, he traced his fingertips along my ass, as if memorizing the shape and feel of it.

I bit my lip, trying to hold back a moan, but I failed. The sensation of his skin against mine was intoxicating and I wanted more of it.

“Are you really going to spank me?” I asked.

I don’t know why it hadn’t really sunk in yet. I was over his knee with my ass bare and waiting, but somewhere deep in my mind, I couldn’t believe it until it was really happening.

“Yes,” he answered simply.

“I don’t want a spanking,” I whined.