Waylon (Ruthless MC 2)

“Should’ve thought about that before you talked yourself into so much trouble, I had to borrow Griff’s jet and come home early to teach you this lesson,” he answers, his voice as hard as mine is whiny. “You’ve earned yourself three swats with my belt.”

He hasn’t even touched me, but I’m on fire. My blood rushes, and my pussy throbs. My nipples become so erect. I have to raise my top half up a little just so the tight sensitive buds won’t scrape against the sheets and make me come before Waylon’s ready. I found out the last time I was pregnant that this is a thing that can totally happen—and totally get me punished—if I’m not careful.

But don’t think Waylon doesn’t notice my slight adjustment. Nothing escapes his gaze when it comes to me.

He slaps the belt against his hand. “You’re already squirming, angel. I know you’re not thinking of coming before Teacher’s ready.”

“No,” I whimper.

“Good, then prove it. Lie flat on the bed to receive your three swats.”

My blood ices over. He’s dooming me. My body’s already a lightning rod. Receiving my punishment with both my clit and my nipples touching the sheets will make it impossible not to come.

“Please, Teacher, don’t make me,” I moan. “I promise I’ll be good.”

The belt whistles through the air and cracks across my butt cheeks without warning. “Bad angel.”

I never understood the term “hurts so good” until the first time Waylon spanked me for being a bad angel.

The pain slices through my backside but zaps my clit with electric pleasure, making it throb.

“That was an extra one because you know how fucking hard it makes me when you beg and promise to be good,” he says, his voice a block of ice above me. “You’re baiting me. Trying to get me to lose control before I can finish this lesson. Now, get that ass down, or I’ll add more swats on to your lesson.”

I tremble inside, but it’s going to be hard enough to take three swats without coming. I don’t want to risk earning anymore.

I do as he says quickly and without any more argument, flattening my body out against the cool sheets and doing the best I can to hold still. Not squirming or doing anything else that will set off my sensitive body is the only thing that can save me right now.

“This is for wearing clothes to bed.” The belt smacks my butt hard enough to make it jiggle. It hurts so bad but sends shockwaves of pleasure through my entire body. I grit my teeth to keep from flinching, to keep my hips still. Can’t come! Can’t come!

“This is for the backtalk.” Another smack. And oh God, my whole butt is burning. Tears well up in my eyes—not because of the pain, but because all my body wants to do is climax.

Everything inside of me wants to come. I can’t hold still. I press my sloppy wet pussy as firmly as I can into the sheets to keep from squirming. But even that relatively small movement sends unbearable shocks of pleasure through me. Trying to hold back the orgasm is like trying to hold back a swarm of fire ants with nothing but my hands.

“Please, Teacher, no more!” I cry out. “I’m going to come. I’m going to come so hard if you hit me again. I can’t take it. It hurts! It hurts everywhere! Please! I’m sorry. I belong to you. I belong to you. Please! I know that. I know forever. Please, it hurts! It hurts so bad!”

I’m babbling now. Sometimes that happens. Waylon mind breaks me before the lesson is done.

“Ssh, angel, calm down. Don’t wake the baby,” he murmurs, turning me over gently.

I thought lying against the covers was bad, but the reverse is even worse. My nipples are so obscenely erect, and my clit is throbbing like it has its own separate pulse. Flipping me over is like exposing a raw nerve to air—painful and overwhelming.

My body convulses with the need to come, and my thighs rub together, slippery with want.

“Please! Please!” I gasp out. “W-want you. N-need you…I can’t! I can’t hold on!”

“I know, angel. I know,” he croons, his gruff voice full of understanding as he braces himself above me. “You learned your lesson—come take this dick. You belong to me, and Teacher knows you need it.”

He wraps my leg around his waist and rocks into me with one heavy thrust, filling me up with the relief I’m begging for—the relief I need.

I immediately start coming. And I have to bite into his shoulder to keep from crying out again.

Pleasure screams through my needy body. And for a while, the world becomes nothing but the sensations bursting inside me and the coarse slap of Waylon’s hips as he races to catch up to me with my teeth buried in his shoulder.