Page 16 of Beg Me
"It's time for your punishment," he says, his voice dropping lower. "Remember your safe words?"
I nod, then quickly correct myself, knowing he wants to hear me say them. "Red for stop, yellow for slow, green for go."
"Good girl." His praise, even now, makes me ache for more. "And your color right now?"
I take a deep breath, searching myself for any hesitation. There is none. "Green."
His smile is slow and dangerous. "Perfect."
He steps back, breaking contact, and I almost whimper at the loss. "Take off your clothes," he commands. "Slowly. I want to watch you."
My hands tremble as I reach for the hem of my top. The fabric feels rough against my hypersensitive skin. Slowly, I drag it up my body, pulling it over my head and letting it drop to the floor. I feel exposed standing in just my bra, panties, and heels.
"All of it," Colt says, his voice brooking no argument.
I reach behind me to unhook my bra, letting it fall away. My nipples harden instantly in the cool air, or maybe from the intensity of his gaze. Finally, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my panties, sliding them down my legs. The vibrator comes with them, falling to the floor with a soft thud.
Naked except for my heels, I stand before him, fighting the urge to cover myself. His eyes travel over me slowly, deliberately, taking in every inch.
"Turn around," he orders. "I want to see all of you."
I turn in a slow circle, my skin heating under his scrutiny. When I face the mirror again, I see a naked and vulnerable woman. But somehow I feel more powerful than ever.
Colt comes up behind me again, his clothed body a stark contrast to my nakedness. His hands settle on my hips, his touch possessive.
"Such a pretty toy," he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. "Even when you're disobedient."
One hand slides between my legs, finding me embarrassingly wet. His finger traces my entrance, gathering moisture before circling my clit. I gasp, my hips bucking involuntarily.
He chuckles. "Such a wet, desperate little slut," he says, his voice a mixture of amusement and approval. "But you'll have to earn your next orgasm."
He withdraws his hand, leaving me aching and empty. His eyes meet mine in the mirror, dark with promise.
"Now bend over the bench," he says. "It's time to show you what happens to dirty little sluts who come without permission."
I move toward the padded bench, each step magnifying my awareness of my nakedness, my exposure. The leather feels cool against my skin as I position myself, bending at the waist. My hands grip the edges, knuckles white with anticipation.
Colt circles behind me, his footsteps deliberate. I can feel his gaze like a physical touch, trailing over the curve of my spine, the swell of my ass. My body trembles slightly, not from cold but from the raw vulnerability of this position.
"Have you ever been spanked before, Tess?" His voice is conversational, almost casual, as if he's asking about the weather.
I swallow hard. "No."
"No?" His hand rests lightly on my lower back, a steadying presence that somehow makes me more aware of what's to come.
"No, never," I admit, my voice small in the quiet room.
"I see." His palm makes slow, gentle circles on my skin. "Since it's your first time, we'll start with five. Not too many, but enough for you to understand the consequences of disobedience."
Five doesn't sound like many, but the unknown makes my heart race. Will it hurt? Will I like it? Will I hate that I like it?
"You'll count each one," he continues, his voice dropping lower. "And after each, you'll thank me. Understood?"
The command sends a shiver through me. "Yes."
"Yes, what?" His hand stills on my back.
"Yes... I understand."
