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shitty actress, and the rest, my star, are for letting yourself be miserable.”
Slap. “For treating yourself that way.” Slap, slap.
He kept hitting my bottom, over and over, until I was crying and
gasping, eyes and cunt wetter than they’d ever been.
“Do I stop?” he asked, bending over me to kiss my cheeks. “Because I
have one more.”
“Give it.”
He pulled off my pants and turned me over, standing at my feet.
“The last six months,” he said as he peeled off his clothes. “They’ve
been hell. All I can think about is getting inside you and what a mistake it
would be. What a fucking mess.” Naked, he knelt on the bed and pulled my
knees apart. “If I hurt you, you could come after me. Expose me. If you
were unhappy, that was just the price for a clean divorce.”
He ran his hand between my thighs, eyes between my legs as if he could
see how I ached for him.
“I was hurting you anyway,” he continued, barely touching my clit.
“And in the end, I’d do it without getting something I wanted.” He slid two
fingers inside me, and I moaned, overwhelmed as all my senses shut down
except where our bodies met. “Tell me you wanted it too.”
“I did.”
“You were a good girl.”
“I was.”
He took his fingers out, and before I could react, he slapped my pussy.
Pain and pleasure fought for dominance. Pleasure won.
“Oh, my God!”
“That was your punishment for being good.”
I laughed. “Now I don’t know if I should be bad or good.”
“Be both.” He slapped again, bringing me close to climax, but no. It was
gone, leaving me unsatisfied, as if he’d given a starving woman a peanut.
“Take me, Logan. Please.”
“But I can do this all night,” he said, putting my right leg over his
shoulder.
“I’ll kill you dead.”
“I like it when you’re demanding.” Kneeling while I was on my side, he
rubbed his head on my clit. “That’s how I know you’re not bored.”
“I’m not. Just… do it.”
“I’ve waited too long to rush.”