Tinsel In A Tangle

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

She wouldn’t. She loved it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t a surprise.

He pulled one finger out and then replaced it with two. She squeezed him and was rewarded with a deep moan.

“I want your cock inside me,” she said. “Not just your fingers.”

She wasn’t prepared for the smack that hit her ass cheek. It stung, for sure, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.

She tried to stand, but he pushed her back where he wanted her and spanked her again. This one was harder. Or maybe her skin was just overly sensitive.

“Ow,” she moaned.

“Then stop doing stuff to deserve it.”

His voice was remarkably calm considering he was spanking a naked woman in the middle of a museum, his fingers deep in her pussy, after a conversation about stealing a necklace worth several million dollars.

“I don’t think—”

“Good,” he said, delivering another smack, this one to the other cheek. “Don’t think.”

He spanked her again and she frowned. She wasn’t sure about this. It didn’t feel bad, but it didn’t feel good, either. She didn’t think. Though his fingers thrusting in and out of her felt amazing.

“What the hell was that one for?”

“For pouting.”

“I wasn’t pouting.”

Smack.

Her ass really stung now. She should be pissed that he was treating her like this. It wasn’t like you tried hard to get away.

“I know you like it. I wouldn’t have kept going if you didn’t like it.”

“I don’t like it. My butt hurts.”

He soothed her burning skin with one hand, the other still busy fucking her with his fingers. How had she missed the sound they were making as he thrust in and out of her?

“Your body says otherwise. Your pussy is dripping, and not just because I’m fingering you. You should’ve felt how tight you squeezed me when I spanked you.”

Oh hell, betrayed by her own body.

“Are you going to be good when I remove my fingers?” he asked.

“What? No! I mean, yes, I’ll be good, but don’t stop.”

His masculine chuckle infuriated her, but she brought it on herself.

“Can’t take my clothes off without this hand.” He flexed his fingers and found a spot inside her that apparently led straight to her knees because they almost buckled.

“I...I could do it for you.”

“Not with my fingers inside you,” he said. “If I turned you around and kept fucking you with my fingers, my hand would brush against your clit. And I know how much it wants attention right now. And then you’d be coming. Hard. And I don’t think you’d be able to work buttons with your orgasm pulsing through your body. And I wouldn’t stop. So you’d just keep coming and coming and coming. Your cream would be dripping down your legs.”

He leaned over her as he spoke, his warm, still fully clothed body blanketed over her.

He kept thrusting his fingers in and out of her. She was so damn close to the edge.