Page 104 of Her Irish Savage

The chains across her tits stretch tight. If my cock weren’t trapped in my trousers, it would be pushing its way into the crease of her arse by now.

“Ha!” she says, as if I’ve proven her point. She reaches between us, going for my zipper.

I catch her wrist and bring her fingers to my lips. I mean to kiss her, to edge my lips across her knuckles, then finish our talk.

But when her hand is beneath my nose, I’m flooded with the smell of hot, excited girl. She started without me, when she tied herself up. She pulled her knickers to the side, and she exposed her pussy, and she couldn’t resist slipping her fingers into her own dark heat.

When I pull her hand down to her waist, I feel her breath catch in her throat. She wants this. She needs this. This is how we get back together.

“Did you touch yourself, little girl?” I lower my voice to a dark growl.

She tilts her head to the side, a remarkable performance of turning shy. “Maybe?”

“Did I give you permission to finger-fuck your pussy?”

Her chin dips to her chest. “No.”

“What happens to little girls who break the rules?”

She swallows hard. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “Tell me, Daddy.”

I move fast, shifting my legs over the side of the bed. At the same time, I pull her onto my lap. She’s on her belly, balanced across my knees. The angle’s awkward, and her arse rises in the air.

I push that tiny vinyl skirt up roughly. I tug at her knickers, not caring if I rip them, yanking them to her knees. I lay the flat of my hand against her superheated skin, and I say very slowly, very clearly, so there’s no chance for either of us to misunderstand: “They. Get. Spanked.”

45

FIONA

His hand lands on my bare ass, harder than I expect. The jolt sends a lance of fire straight to my clit. I moan, and his cock presses into my belly. I arch my back, trying to feel more of his length.

I didn’t realize my motion would force my ass higher into the air. “You’re a naughty girl,” he rumbles, and each word ripples through my core. He smacks my bare flesh again, fingers spread wide, gripping hard before he pulls back.

I’m panting now, breathing through my teeth. Part of me is trying to bleed off the pain, to cool the hand-shaped brand he’s set on me. But part of me is trying to ease the muscles tightening inside me, trying to keep from coming. I clutch the fabric of his pants with both hands. “Please…” I beg.

“Please spank you again?”

Before I can lie, before I can deny that I’m asking for more punishment, he does it. This time, when he pulls his hand away,he dips one finger between my thighs. He glides through my wetness, and his cock twitches with his wicked laugh.

“You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you?”

Iama dirty girl. I dressed for him, because I knew it would drive him wild. I’m pressing against him, because I want to feel his cock. I want to suck him off until precum leaks onto my tongue and then I want to ride him, our mouths locked, my fingers tangled in his hair, until he explodes deep inside me.

“Little girl?” he says. “Answer Daddy when he asks you a question.”

“Yes,” I say. “Yes. I’m a dirty, dirty girl.”

That earns me another spanking, the hardest one yet. I balance on the knife edge of pleasure and pain. I pound my fist against his thigh. I squeeze my eyes closed.

“You’re so, so red,” he says, brushing his hand against my stinging flesh, barely feathering me with his palm. “So beautiful…”

I unravel.

Every fiber in my body comes undone. I can’t breathe, because I don’t have lungs. I can’t scream, because I don’t have a mouth. I’m nothing but a hollow of pure sensation, an endless, timeless stretch of ecstasy.

When I come back into my body, I’m lying on my back. My arms are flung out to either side. My ass hangs off the edge of the bed.

My legs are splayed, and the backs of my thighs rest on Patrick’s bare shoulders as he kneels on the floor. He’s taken off his clothes, which makes a distant part of me sad, because I wanted to watch him do it. That sadness, though, disintegrates when he buries his face in my pussy.

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