Sinful (5 page)

Brandt reached down and gathered the bottom of her suit in one hand, just above the cleft, reshaping it into a thong that split her behind rudely in two, leaving both cheeks terribly vulnerable, then smacked her hard about ten times – crisp, stinging swats that had her even less inclined to answer him when he was finished, because she was still gasping for air at the blaze he’d lit in her behind.

“I’m not going to wait all evening, Lita,” he warned, his hand draped casually over her backside.

“No, Brandt, stop, please!”

“I asked you a question, young lady.” He wondered if that might not be a bit too heavy handed, but when she began to actively try to fight to get off his lap, which she hadn’t really been doing before, he thought he might – instead – have hit on something that was absolutely right for her.

Another round of ten or twelve or so had her very near tears and beside herself wanting to end the spanking as soon as was humanly possible. “Stop, no, Brandt – I’ll answer you, I’ll answer you!” she finally got out, although she had even less breath this time than last.

He waited, although he continued to pat her bottom, as if in warning that he wasn’t going to put up with any shenanigans.

“I–I was… was going to s-say that—” It was going to have been hard enough to say when she was upright and facing him, which was why she’d just automatically responded to his command to get dressed rather than coming right out with her objection. And now – how could she possibly say this to him when she was in this humiliating position, and he was poised to continue smacking her bottom if she said something he didn’t like?

Apparently she was taking entirely too long – as far as he was concerned – to overcome her own overblown sense of propriety, because the next thing she knew, he had begun to swat her again, just once on each cheek, but with tremendous power, such that she could well imagine that it had left her with a livid red imprint of that broad palm and those long fingers. And he began delivering like smacks all over her backside – not confining himself to those lovely, bouncing buttocks, but instead also venturing to the tender backs of her thighs.

Until, at last, crying pitifully, Lita managed to overcome her embarrassment – at what she was going to say, certainly not at what was being done to her at the moment – and yelled out, “I want us to make love before we go to dinner!”

Upon hearing the reason for her reluctance, Brandt stopped – momentarily, anyway – intrigued. “You do?”

“Yes!” she continued to yell, while sniffling and weeping. And it felt damned good, too! She’d been raised to temper every emotion and never, ever to cause a scene – especially anything negative like anger. But yelling at him – even when he was spanking her – felt freeing, and he didn’t seem to want to try to inhibit her.

Except that as the last thing he did before he carefully returned the swimsuit to its former position, he scolded, “That’s enough. If you’re going to yell at me, you’d better have a damned good reason, and, since the spanking’s over – for now – you don’t.”

He let her up but didn’t turn her loose, instead switching her around so that she was sitting on his lap, holding her tight against him so that she didn’t have to put too much pressure on her backside.

This was a definite benefit of being spanked by him rather than her father, Lita realized immediately.

“And why is it that you specifically want to make love
before
dinner?”

Her hand came up to his chest, feeling its bareness and snatching it back as if her fingertips had been burned, then venturing bravely back to nestle there. He looked down to see just how small and frail it looked, then picked it up and pressed her fingertips to his lips.

She was squirming, and he knew that this was a topic she would rather avoid, but he’d been very startled by her revelation, and he wanted to know more about what she was thinking. “I— well, I,” she stammered, “I’m afraid I won’t taste the meal. I’ll be too... preoccupied.”

“Out of the mouths of babes,” Brandt sighed, realizing that he felt exactly the same way.

“I’m not a babe!”

He was surprised at the almost mutinous look on her face as he hitched them up to the top of the bed. “Yes, you are, in more ways than one.”

Her face looked thunderous at that pronouncement, and he realized that this was the first time she’d been angry around him. He intended to explore that a lot more closely when more interesting past times weren’t in the offing.

This time, when she opened her mouth to argue with him, he kissed her deeply and it had the exact effect he’d hoped it would – distracting them both from what they had been talking about.

She had told him that she wasn’t a virgin, and she wasn’t, but she might as well have been. His instinct was to go as slowly as he would if she had been, and that proved to be the perfect way to approach her.

Despite the fact that the swimsuit was driving him crazy – he wanted to feel her skin against his, he didn’t want to startle or upset her. So he peeled it away from her body excruciatingly slowly and only after they had spent a long while kissing and cuddling, when he’d judged that she was just about as relaxed as she was probably ever going to get in this situation.

When he reached around behind her neck to release the catch at the back of the suit’s halter top, her hand came to his bare chest again as if she wanted to stop him, but not quite.

He knew that she was conflicted about what they were doing, but he most definitely was not, and as long as she wasn’t actively protesting, he was going to ignore the small outward signs of her misgivings and concentrate, instead, on the blatant desire he saw in her eyes.

When her breasts were revealed for the first time, firm and taut and proud, his mouth literally watered. He wanted to bury his face in them, to lick and suck and perhaps chew a little on those mauve nipples, kneading and massaging those surprisingly generous mounds and squeezing them just a bit too hard. But he held himself in close restraint and settled, instead, for simply bending down to tug one into his mouth. With such a simple gesture, her arching body and low, constrained groan turned him on more than any other, more overblown reaction he had gotten from any other women.

He had never felt – with any other woman – the way she made him feel. Her charming innocence and wide-eyed wonder and response to everything he did to her, made him feel like he was king of all he surveyed. Indeed, her hesitant echoes of his own desires as they drove him to touch her more and more intimately only urged him further on, almost forgetting, in his desire fueled frenzy, the need for restraint – at least this first time, when he would gage her level of experience and her own desires.

When he would have slid down her body to nibble at even more coveted fruit, she grabbed his shoulders, looking aghast at the idea and shaking her head vehemently.

He smiled and soothed her, murmuring, “Well, maybe we’ll save that for another time, then.” Her uninhibited sigh of relief made him chuckle softly. He didn’t know many women nowadays who would turn down oral sex, and he wouldn’t always allow her to do so, but just this once, he’d let her make that choice because he was just that eager for her – eager enough to put aside his usual ‘ladies first’ rule in order not to be unmanned within the next few minutes.

So close was he to losing control of himself that he had to confess that fact to her there and then. “Honey, I wanted to go slow and make this first time all about you, but I don’t think I can. I have to have you, right now.” Brandt arched his body against hers, insinuating his hips between her raised knees, hearing her breath catch as his rampant length came in contact with her privates for the first time and she started. He was doing his best to soothe her as he positioned himself, but he wasn’t at all sure she was ready for this...

Until he found himself at the gateway to her body, and realized that it was covered in her own juices. She might not have been quite ready for him intellectually, or psychologically, but her body had already embraced the idea of his possession and he rewarded its preparations as he began to gently but inexorably press himself within her.

She was tighter than any virgin he’d ever had, so much so that he had to fight against himself – and begin reciting multiplication tables in his head – so that it would last longer than it took to claim her completely. It was almost more torturous than what he was actually doing, to watch her expressions as he took her. He saw every emotion passing over that beautiful face, not the least of which was embarrassment, followed quickly, he was glad, by desire, which seemed to only appear occasionally, when it could fight its way through her shame and not a small amount of guilt tinged with fear, he knew, as if she thought the Almighty was going to issue a thunderbolt down from Heaven to smite the both of them, mid-act.

But he didn’t, for which Brandt was eternally grateful.

He gave her as long as he could to come to grips with his presence within her, and then began to move relentlessly. Her eyes flew open and she wiggled insistently beneath him, as if she were trying to get out from under him.

Although it nearly cost him his sanity, he stopped cold. “Lita, am I hurting you?”

She, too, stopped cold. Her answer was immediate, and rang with truth. “No. No, you’re not.”

“Then why are you trying to get away from me?”

When she raised her eyes to his, they were full of tears. “Because... it can’t be right.”

“What can’t be?” His hips pumped of their own volition, once, before he ruthlessly suppressed the tendency.

But he had the answer he wanted even if she couldn’t quite articulate it to him. “This— how it feels... it’s can’t possibly be right!”

“It feels good?” he asked, adjusting his position a little to begin long, slow thrusts as he watched her avidly for signs that he was right about why she was so confused.

Her answer was entirely involuntary. She moaned, as if she’d never moaned before in her life, and he would completely believe it if she had told him that she hadn’t. Certainly never for this reason, apparently.

Her ex-husband was even more of an idiot than Brandt had thought, having been entrusted with such loveliness and then not having taken full advantage of it while he had it. Even if – at some point in the future – he became completely impotent, Brandt knew that he would always make sure that his woman never suffered because of it in any way – especially not this one. There were too many other ways to give her pleasure, and doing so could only make him a happier man, regardless.

“That’s right,” he encouraged. “This is how it’s supposed to feel between a man and a woman, Lita. This is making love. It’s supposed to feel good.”

Lita didn’t know what to do with herself, where to put her hands, how to act, but mostly what to do with the overwhelming feelings he was creating within her. She hadn’t expected that; no matter how amazing it felt when they kissed, she couldn’t imagine that being in bed with Brandt would be quite this different from being in bed with her husband. Especially since they were sinning – it should hurt like the dickens, not feel like an incredible storm of ecstasy was building within her with every purposeful, heavy thrust of his body into hers.

Much too soon, though, he stopped and collapsed atop her with a loud cry that, at first had her worried that he was in some kind of pain, but then when he didn’t move, she decided that perhaps it was a cramp or something that had resolved itself as quickly as it had appeared.

She felt curiously unfulfilled; she still had an ache she had never experienced before. She decided that perhaps that was the price for her fallen status – that she would search forever for a relief for the sensations that had built up and settled in that shameful place on her body, so much so that she knew she was going to walk hunched over for the rest of her life from the force of it. Kind of like what he had said about wanting her, she thought.

Eventually, though, he rolled to her side, his hand landing possessively on her taut, tense lower belly. “I’m sorry, Lita, but I just couldn’t wait long enough to take you with me.”

His heartfelt apology just got him a blank stare, as if she had absolutely no idea to what he was referring. And then it hit him. Why hadn’t it come to him before? She didn’t know about orgasms, certainly not as they would pertain to herself. And it seemed as if her husband hadn’t had much of one, either, regardless of the thankfully few times he might have decided to molest her.

Even though the other man was the one who had been legally married to her, and therefore entitled to know her intimately, Brandt just couldn’t attribute any good qualities to him at all, having heard some of Lita’s stories about him when he could get her to talk about that part of her life, which her ex seemed to have made an extremely unpleasant experience over all. He’d also pumped his sister for information, but she was even more closed mouthed than Lita herself. It sounded to him as if the man was impotent and blamed an innocent young girl for his own failings, instead of being happy with what a wonderful woman she was and that she was his.

Brandt knew he’d never make that kind of a mistake.

“Lita, did your husband ever touch you between your legs?”

Her already perpetually bright blush got even brighter and she began to bite her lip, but said nothing.

Brandt reached beneath her to cup, then strongly squeeze a bottom cheek, reminding her of a lesson she should already have learned about him and what he expected from her.

She squeaked and tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her, trapping her easily against his side and blocking her escape with his other arm. “Do I need to put you back over my knee?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“NO! No,” she amended, almost too softly. “He didn’t. Just the once, on our wedding night, then not again, thankfully.”

This was the question he really wanted to ask, but was almost afraid of the answer. “Does being here, in bed with me, naked, make you feel the same way that he made you feel?”

She scoffed wholeheartedly, “Not at all. He made me feel... dirty... and guilty... and as if something I still don’t understand was all my fault.” Lita’s eyes flitted up to his, then down again quickly to where her fingers were playing in his light chest hair. “You make me feel... beautiful... and nervous... and excited and... wanted.”

The truth rang through her words and he felt as if a skyscraper had been lifted off his chest. It was then that she found his tiny pink nipples and, copying what he had done to her, pinched and rolled it, just a bit. But enough to make him jump and grab his own flesh. “Wow – you’re a fast learner!” When she chuckled at his reaction and reached out to do it again, he pushed her hand away. “You are always welcome to touch me, Lita, just not right now, okay?”

Lord knew he didn’t want to crush her desire to reciprocate the things he had done for her, but not when there were more important things in the offing.

“But—”

By way of controlling her but not having to scold her, he slid his fingers down the outside of one thigh, then up the inside to cup her where he had just resided.

Her hands came immediately to his wrist, trying to pull him away, a pleading look in her eyes.

But he was unmoved. “Put your hands at your sides, Lita, and don’t move them again.”

When she didn’t obey him immediately, he turned her over and delivered fifteen tremendously hard swats to her backside, then rolled her back over, his hand resuming its former intimate possession of her body.

Her hands drifted down until they were inches from his wrist and he waited a beat – but would wait no longer than that for her to obey, he had already decided.

She did, watching his eyes and getting that almost rebellious look on her face, but slowly complying with his order.

When she had obeyed him, he slid his middle finger between those nether lips and boldly stroked her clit.

As if he hadn’t given her any rules at all as to where her hands should be, they resumed their former position, tugging at him for all they were worth. A second session on her tummy turned her posterior a dull red all over, as powerful smack after smack fell and she was held motionless – helpless – to do anything but lie there to receive them.

Flipped over again, she found herself in the same position, with him clutching her – unrepentantly – right where she least wanted him to. And that bold finger continued to molest her, although she had succeeded – just barely – in suppressing her all out desire to sacrifice the health of her behind in order to preserve her modesty. She kept her hands at her sides, clenching the bedclothes in a death grip against the waves of sinful sensations that wracked her body with every casual flick of his fingertip.

“Open your thighs for me, Lita.” Brandt knew exactly what he was asking of her. He knew just how hard it was for her to do any of the things they’d been doing since they got to the hotel. But he was just underhanded enough to use the fact that she’d been raised to acquiesce to male authority to achieve his goals, and to use spanking – which he knew she had been subjected to as a child – in order to reinforce his demand for obedience. He thought it fit perfectly with the situation they were in. It was an intimate punishment that involved the baring of an area of her body, in which he had an intense interest, and she had an intense mortification response to, and it reinforced his position, one that she was more than comfortable in him assuming anyway.

But he wasn’t about to cut her a break about what he expected of her, which was obedience. He knew she was struggling, but he expected that – above all else – she would do as she was told. And he wasn’t going to start their intimate relationship letting her think that he was going to let her get away with anything; it was always easier just to be strict from the start, rather than trying to earn back ground you’ve already surrendered in that area.

So when she took longer than he had allowed – which really was no more than a few seconds – to do as he bid, she found herself again face down on the bed, bottom up over his thigh, having her backside redecorated in an even more alarmingly vivid shade of red.

When he repositioned her again, her legs fell apart before he’d even moved his hand to cover her. “Good girl,” he whispered softly, settling down beside her to draw an impertinent nipple into his mouth as he let his hand have free rein of her, one big leg capturing her nearest thigh to hold her even further open for his explorations. By merely stretching out beside her, he’d immobilized one of her arms beneath him, so the only way she had left to defend herself, really, was her left hand which was all but useless since she was very strongly right handed.

She was still crying when he first began to touch her, and he knew her bottom must sting horribly, so he considered it a matter of pride that he was able to get her back to the point of moaning rather than hiccoughing sobs within a relatively short amount of time, although her free hand did – once or twice – come off the bed, reflexively, and in response to him moving his fingers further down her slit.

His response was the same as it would have been if that hand had grabbed his wrist. By the time he had to turn her over for the last time, she was begging him not to do it, but he steeled himself and gave her what he knew they both needed to be happy, overall, in this relationship.

That last time, she rebounded right back to where she had been even more quickly, and he knew he had her. Her body – and parts of her psyche – craved this kind of attention, this kind of discipline, delivered by a man who wasn’t afraid to administer it. She needed someone who also obviously cared about her and didn’t discount her, and who would assume the ultimate authority in her life and be completely comfortable with it.