Page 15 of Kept

“Tsk, tsk. No, little wildcat. You’re not going anywhere.”

His hand disappears from where it had been rubbing along my ass. We sit like that, I’m not sure for how long. I open my mouth to speak but feel a faint rush of air before pain explodes across my exposed bottom.

I scream instead and kick my legs, trying to twist my body away from the source of the discomfort. He hooks his leg over my ankles and tightens his grip on my arms, pressing my breasts just a little bit harder against his body.

His hand cracks down against my other cheek. It’s like lightning sparking across my skin, spreading tendrils of pain away from the point of impact.

“Stop it!” I scream.

“No.” His voice is calm and so fucking controlled, it irritates me.

He rains down more smacks across my ass. I can feel heat coming from my skin, the stinging pain from one hit barely lessening before the next comes down. In the glass, the reflection becomes blurry, and I realize I’m crying. I see my mascara-darkened tears drip onto the creamy ottoman.

More fire sparks across my ass, white hot. He starts to move down my thighs, which somehow hurts even more.

“Please! It hurts! Stop!”

“It’s supposed to hurt, kitten. That’s the point. And when you see your little bruised ass tomorrow, and sit on it, you’ll remember why the truth is your friend.”

He works his way back up to my ass and settles into a steady rhythm. Back and forth, up and down. Helpless, pinned down by his strong arms, I feel like I can barely breathe through my cries.

Vincent chuckles. “Kitten, are you even aware that you’re rubbing your thighs together? Trying to tell me something?”

“What?” I mumble.

He trails a finger down my ass, tracing my thong. He tugs on it, the fabric pulling tight against my pussy. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to keep from moaning.

“Am I going to find these panties soaked?”

“What?” I shake my head to clear some of the fog from my brain. “What? No. Are you crazy?”

“Probably. But I don’t think I’m wrong.”

He resumes tracing my thong down my ass, stopping over my pussy. My very wet pussy. He starts to rub the thin fabric back and forth.

“Oh, that is a very wet little pussy.”

He continues to work the fabric, teasing me. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m moaning and pushing my hips back against his hand.

“Kitten, I think you might have enjoyed that spanking.”

“No.”

“Liar,” he whispers. His hand leaves my pussy and then crashes back against my skin, lighting my ass on fire all over again.

“Ow!!”

“Bad kittens don’t get to come.”

CHAPTER 9

Vincent

Jesus fucking Christ.

It’s not like I didn’t know I would enjoy putting her over my knee. But holy fuck, when I felt her body start to relax, her thighs rubbing together, the faint little moan she was making. Jesus. For someone who has never been spanked before, she’s so goddamned responsive. And I don’t think she has a clue.

Her cute little ass shakes every time my palm crashes down on her. It takes every bit of willpower I have to not slide back to her soaking pussy and sink my fingers deep inside of her. Make her come on my hand for being such a good girl for her spanking.

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