Page 27 of Chilled and Thrilled

My cock leaps against her stomach as I pause to appreciate the view. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Sophie peeks over her shoulder, lips parted and eyes wide. “Stop what?”

In response, my hand comes down on her bare ass, spanking her hard enough to leave an angry red mark and make the naked woman in my lap gasp. “I’m a grown man, sweetheart. I know what I want.” Another spank, and Sophie squeals, bucking against my hold.

“Bram!”

“Don’t move. You’re getting ten.” I run my hand over the redness, soothing her hurt for a few seconds before marking it all over again, spanking her three times in quick succession.

I’m not going easy on her, but any worry I might have had that it was too much for Sophie is quickly put to rest. Creamy thighs inch further apart on the sixth spank, her reddened bottom arching higher.

Jesus, she’s perfect.

“This is supposed to be a punishment. Is it making your cunt wet?” I demand, my voice like gravel.

Sophie moans, gazing back at me. “I’m sorry, Bram. I can’t help it.”

The next spank takes her by surprise, and the squeal she makes goes right to my already aching dick. “Three more, then we’ll deal with that needy little pussy,” I grunt, squeezing each of her reddened cheeks in turn.

While my attraction to her would have made any sex with Sophie incredible, the knowledge that we’re compatible in our less conventional desires is liberating. There’s no testing the waters here, no wondering whether it’s too soon to tell her what I want. My imagination is brimming with sordid, kinky fantasies, and the woman I’ve wanted like no other is on board for all of them.

I must have been a saint in a former life. It’s the only explanation for getting this obscenely lucky. As I bring my hand down on her bottom again, I find myself grinning like a lunatic. “You’re taking this very well, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you, but I need to know you’ve learned your lesson.”

Sophie’s breathing is ragged as she trembles against me, arching her back for more. “My lesson?”

My thumb dips between her cheeks, teasing the puckered hole there. “Are you ever going to question the way I feel about you again?”

Her head whips back and forth frantically, thighs inching further apart. “No, Bram.”

My hand drifts between her legs. Slick, hot skin greets my touch, and we groan in unison as I find her clit, stroking. It’s beyond erotic, watching this gorgeous, twenty-four-year-old in my lap grinding against my touch, needing more of what only I can give her.

“Does that feel nice?” I coo, working her closer to an orgasm. “Does my greedy girl need me to make her come?”

Sophie bucks against my fingers, her hands clawing at the crumpled sheets beneath us. “Yes! Yes! Please?—”

My fingers move faster, and her moans start coming in great, gasping sobs as she grasps for something just out of reach. I take my time, waiting until she’s on the edge, almost shaking with how close she is, then pull my fingers away, delivering the last two spanks she’s owed.

“Bram!” Sophie sobs, staring back at me in wide-eyed outrage.

Chuckling and brimming with satisfaction, I move out from under her to stand beside the bed. “What would you like for breakfast?” I ask with a leisurely stretch, relaxed apart from my still-raging erection.

“That was so mean!”

I pause, considering. “You know, it was. I’ll make it up to you later.”

Sophie glowers up at me from the mattress where she’s still sprawled on her belly, legs spread. At this angle, I have a clear view of her bare cunt, swollen and glistening with arousal. “You suck.”

“I do, yes,” I concede, utterly unapologetic, as I stride into the closet in search of fresh clothing for both of us. When this storm is over, I’m calling my personal shopper and having her pull a selection of things for Sophie to wear while she’s here. At least, until I convince her to move in.

First, though, I’ll need to figure out a way to break the news to my daughter.

Sophie is sitting on the edge of the bed by the time I emerge, dressed and holding a T-shirt, boxer briefs, and socks for her. She scowls as I set them on the mattress beside her, leaning forward to kiss her pursed lips.

It’s difficult to keep myself from grinning as she melts against me.

“Come downstairs,” I tell her between slow, lingering kisses, “I’ll make you pancakes.”

Sophie snorts, playing with the ends of my hair. “Do they come with a side order of sexual frustration? Because I’m already pretty good on that.”

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