Page 93 of Home in the Country
Unbuckling my seatbelt with shaky hands, I gather my purse from the floorboard before opening the door and hopping out of the truck. I try to keep my steps measured and even, but it’s impossible when I can feel his gaze searing into me.
He hasn’t moved by the time I enter the house, so I leave the door propped open a crack and kick off my shoes. The hardwood floor is cold beneath my feet as I pad down the hall.
Each step is exhilarating, and when I finally cross the threshold to his bedroom, I’m practically panting. The smell of fresh-cut grass and soap greets me, and it’s the most potent aphrodisiac.
The king-size bed is made with its gray checkered comforter, and I don’t hesitate. Climbing onto the mattress, I grab the hem of my dress and pull it up over my hips before lying down.
The anticipation of what he’s about to do to me is almost too much to take, and when I hear the front door close and his keys hit the counter, I squirm in search of relief.
Thethunkof his boots hitting the floor has me gripping the fabric of my dress still clutched in my hands. My panties are soaked, and I know he’s going to figure that out as soon as he walks in the room.
Soft, intentional steps grow closer, and I muffle a groan into the comforter.
“That’s a mighty fine sight, Princess.”
Rough hands travel up the back of my legs from my ankles, up my calves to the apex of my thighs. I whimper when his thumbs press into my flesh so close to where I need him and yet a million miles away.
His hands travel back down to my ankles, his thumbs tracing small circles over the bone before his grip tightens and he wrenches my legs open.
I gasp.
Hot open-mouthed kisses trail up one thigh as the bed dips between my legs and his hand coasts up the other.
“Oh God.”
“Princess, ain’t nobody here but me.”
The crack of his palm against my ass cuts off any retort I’d been about to make. The sting is second to the pleasure that shoots directly to my core as his hand massages the area thoroughly.
“Such a good girl, but you liked that, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe next time I’ll spank you over my knee. Would you like that?” His other hand connects with my other cheek, and I writhe under his touch.
“Maybe.”
Two more strikes land against the opposite side in quick succession, but my gasp is replaced by a moan as his tongue licks over the sensitive flesh.
“Please.”
“I love seein’ you spread for me like this. Be even better if I could see how wet your pussy is right now.”
“Otto.”
I push back into him because try as I might, Ilikebeing spanked. No one has ever done this to me, and I have no idea if I’d have had the same response, but it doesn’t matter.
I need him to do it again.
“Please, Otto.”
The angle is awkward, but his fingers expertly find my lace-covered clit. He pinches the bud unapologetically and I gasp. My hips buck against his hand as his other smacks my ass once, twice,three times.
“Baby, please… I need… Otto, please.” I’m mumbling and rambling and gasping for air as my vision starts to blur and he presses tight circles against that little bundle of nerves.
I need the release more than I need my next breath. My movements are frantic and uncoordinated as I climb higher and higher.
I’m completely and holy unprepared for the orgasm that rearranges my molecular makeup. My body thrashes against the bed as wave after wave of pleasure rockets through me.
