Page 83 of Start With A Slap

“Oh my GOD,” she swiveled around to slap him, “I fuckinghateyou!”

He caught her wrist before she could strike. “Ooh.” His eyes flared with desire. “There you are.”

She yanked at his tie and their tongues collided.

But what she hoped would be a quick, tidy skirt bunch somehow devolved into an all-nude wrestling match, ending with him kneeling on the seat and plowing into her from above while she tried to avoid facial rug burn. The irony was, this limo had a very comfortable-looking center divan. So much for comfort.

To add to the nasty, he was holding her by the spot and spanking her, barehanded, supplying a reason for each strike: “That’sfor assuming you can slap me whenever you bloody well feel like it.” “That’sfor disrespecting your elders.” “That’sfor lying to me.” “That’sfor lying to yourself.”

Each slap made her cry out louder than the one before.

He pulled her up by the hair. “You want me. You want me. You. Want. Me. Say it with me, Ivy.”

She waited until he was close enough to hear: “You want me.”

He dropped her, licked the inward curve of her lower back —ohjesusyes— and slapped it.

“Aaahunh!”

“Andthat’sfor being such a cheeky little cunt.” He rubbed her ass. “And a naughty little cheat.”

With a desperate whine, she circled her hips and bucked into him fast.

“Yeah...” He massaged her spot. “Baby’s gonna come.”

He wasn’t wrong: she held her breath and convulsed in his grasp, a ragged scream tearing out of her throat.

Justwhen her voice was sounding normal again... and just when she had to continue her work day and look Jason in the eye after having rough limousine sex with his father... She was a horrible human being.

He pulled out of her. “Spin round. On your back.”

Dazed, she followed his orders and let him fuck her on the floor.

“Open your eyes, Ivy. Look at me.”

It was disconcerting, the way he gazed at her. He was savoring this too much. “Hurry up. I have to get back.”

He arched a brow. “Want me to hurry, you’ll have to findmyspot.”

Sever had an achilles heel too? She searched his devilish eyes, wondering where it could be. Nipples? Earlobe? Nape of... Without another thought, she clutched his throat.

His overly delighted wolf grin told her she’d scored.

Knew it. Freak.She tightened her grasp and her nails dug into his skin.

She had to admit, there was a certain satisfaction in watchinghisface turn red; in givinghimhis just desserts for a change... but she couldn’t keep it up beyond his first orgasmic shudder.

Spent, face buried in her neck, he whispered, “You’re amazing.”

“Don’t—” She pushed his head up. “Don’t do that. I’m gonna smell like you. He knows your cologne.”

He grinned lazily. “Bit late for that.”

She stopped him before he closed in for a kiss. “Off!”

“All right, feisty.” Rolling off of her, he opened a compartment beneath the divan and threw a handful of little gold packets on her belly. “Should mask my hideous stench.”

She didn’t think it was hideous. Lately, even cheap knockoffs of his cologne tended to cause a Pavlovian effect. In her underpants. “Designer wet-naps,” she said, inspecting a packet. “Where do you find this stuff?”

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