Page 21 of The List
“Just enjoying the view.”
The smack is quick and unexpected, jolting me forward against the counter. My right ass cheek stings, and I gasp aloud—half shock, half pleasure.
“Turn around,” he commands.
I’m tempted to disobey, hoping he’ll punish me with another smack. But I do what he says, my flesh still tingling where the spatula made contact.
“There you go.” His voice is low and close to my ear, and I realize he’s leaning down over me. Then I feel it. Something hard and smooth grazing the back of my panties. It’s his cock, and he’s skimming it over the very cheek he just smacked, soothing it through the thin satin of my panties.
I moan and press into him again. I’m soaking wet and dying to have him yank the panties down my thighs so he can sheathe himself inside me again, just like he did Saturday night. I’ve been feeling him for days, craving the thickness of him sliding all the way to the hilt.
But he keeps my panties in place and continues to tease me. He glides all that glorious length into the cleft of my ass, rubbing and pressing until I moan again. The head of it grazes my tailbone, and I close my eyes. Jesus, I had no idea my tailbone was any sort of erogenous zone. The pressure feels amazing, and Simon seems to know it.
His fingers slide into the hair at the nape of my neck, then tighten around it. I feel my eyes go wide as he wraps his fist around my makeshift ponytail and pulls back. The pressure is firm, but not a yank. Not anything that’s going to snap my neck, but it’s sure as hell letting me know he’s in charge.
“You like that?” he murmurs into my ear. “You like feeling my cock up against your ass like that?”
I nod, and since he’s still gripping my hair in his fist, it pulls tighter. I’m amazed by how much I love it. He gives another soft tug, sending tingles of sensation from the root of each hair all the way to my toes.
The next smack lands on the outside of my left ass cheek, and I yelp and buck against him. He pins me in place, his body pressed against mine, his lips still grazing my ear. His fist still grips my hair, and my flesh sizzles where he slapped it.
“You want to feel me inside you?”
“Yes.”
The word comes out strangled, which probably belies just how badly I want that. Urgently. I can feel my whole body clenching with the thought of having him again.
“Not yet,” he murmurs against my throat. He kisses me there, feathery, light brushes of his lips all the way from the nape of my neck to my ear. He lets go of my hair, and I hate to admit I’m disappointed. But then he grabs the hem of my top and pulls it up and over my head. My hair tangles on a button, and I realize even that sensation turns me on.
He tosses the top aside and reaches for me again. I’m still wearing my bra and pleased to recall I wore my prettiest set. Yellow satin and lace, with bikini panties that feel silky to the touch. My sisters would approve.
For crying out loud, stop thinking about your sisters.
My skirt is still hiked up around my hips, and I hope he’s enjoying the view as much as I’m enjoying everything he’s done to me so far.
Simon leans down again and plants a light kiss in the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. He kisses his way across my shoulder and down, landing a slow, feathery trail down my spine.
When he gets to my ass, I shiver. He kisses the spot where he delivered the spatula blow moments before, then takes his time getting to the other side. By the time he’s kissed both cheeks thoroughly, I’m practically dripping with need. I don’t know if he’s done this a million times before or what, but the man certainly knows how to tease every last nerve. How to alternate between whisper-soft caresses that leave my flesh humming and firm, stinging smacks that make my blood fizz with delight.
“What do you think?” he muses. “Should we take off these panties?”
“Yes, please.”
He laughs and slides his fingers into the waistband. “So polite.”
He takes his time pulling them down my thighs, and I move one knee, then the other, so he can tug them off over my ankles. It occurs to me that I still have my shoes on, and I wonder if I look like a porn star. I kinda feel like one, and I like that. I like it a lot.
With my panties gone and my skirt hiked up over my hips, I feel exposed. I’m leaning with my elbows on my kitchen counter wearing just my bra and skirt and a pair of high-heeled shoes I practiced in all weekend so I wouldn’t look like a hack. If I’m going to be the brazen vixen who fulfills all her sexual fantasies, I damn sure want to look the part.
Simon’s palm skims my left ass cheek again, and I know what’s coming. My skin prickles with anticipation. I hold my breath, waiting for it.
But the smack lands on my right cheek instead, harder this time. I gasp as my flesh sings, a high, sharp pitch that rings in my ears. Every nerve in my lower half is on fire, and I’m still reeling from it when he smacks me again. It’s the left cheek this time, closer to my tailbone, and I realize he’s taking great care not to strike the same spot twice in rapid succession.
“Simon, please,” I beg, not entirely sure what I’m asking for. Another smack? His fist in my hair again?
No, that’s not it. And he seems to know it.
“You want my cock inside you?”
