Oath of Seduction (Deviant Doms 5)

I watch as she takes another sip of her drink, her throat moving as she swallows. Her eyes are on mine. She takes the glass from her lips and watches me, but I’ve given her enough warning.

“I told you to come here.” I don’t like to repeat myself, but a part of me’s excited she’s not obedient and submissive. It’s far, far more enjoyable for both of us if there’s a little bit of a fight first.

I go to stand to make her come to me, when she jumps and starts moving my way.

I love the way she moves, with fluid grace, the unfolding of a silk scarf. I want to run my fingers over the soft pattern of her body and lay it skin to skin across mine.

She stands in front of me, her eyes a little widened and her lips gently parted. Gorgeous.

“You should’ve obeyed the first time,” I warn, shaking my head. “Now you’ll have to be punished.” I watch the way her breathing quickens. She’s nervous, but excited, and if that doesn’t say fuck me, I’m kinky, I’m not sure what does.

Truth is, she was going over my lap tonight whether she obeyed or not. She just made it easier with her disobedience.

I take her hand and lead her so the tops of her thighs brush the side of mine before I guide her over my lap. love the feel of a woman laying over my knees, her belly pressed up against my stiff cock, her hair falling to the floor in front of her on one side and her legs flailing helplessly on the other. I love the feel of her suspended over my lap, her weight fully on me. It says surrender.

This doll’s a fucking masterpiece.

Her impending spanking’s got her nervous. I can feel the way her body trembles. It’s my favorite form of foreplay.

I press my left palm to the small of her back to both steady her and hold her in place while I spank her. The trembling subsides just a little.

The form-fitting red dress glides up her thighs, baring the lowest curve of her ass to me. My dick pushes against the softness of her belly, and I stifle a groan.

“So fucking sexy,” I murmur in a voice affected by her beauty. I drag one fingertip along the hem of her dress, at the lowest curve of her ass. She shivers. “I’m gonna paint your ass red until it matches your dress.”

“Not sure how I feel about that,” she says, her blonde hair streaming past her face and nearly touching the floor. I lift my palm, cup it, and slam it across her backside. She gasps and arches her back, but wriggles a little, as if silently asking for more. I palm the place I spanked.

God is she perfect.

“Did I ask you how you felt about that?”

“Isn’t that… isn’t that part of the whole thing?” she asks.

I spank her again. Harder.

“According to what? Who? I don’t follow anyone’s fucking rules.” I shift my tone to scolding. “You’re a bad girl who needs to be disciplined, whether you like it or not.”

I lift her skirt and push her thong aside. Her heart-shaped ass is perfect, faintly tinged pink from the smack of my palm. I bend and kiss one ass cheek, then sink my teeth into the other.

She gasps and stiffens, but before she can protest, I pull her thong across her pussy with gentle pressure. I push my palm onto her lower back, holding her in place, before I whack her again.

“Oh!” she gasps.

Again, I lift my palm, and again, I let it slam across the fullest part of her ass. I pause between smacks, kneading her tender flesh, and after half a dozen measured spanks, run my fingers between her legs. I smile to myself, not at all surprised to smell the sweet scent of her arousal. I effortlessly glide my fingers through her folds and over her sex, boldly exploring the most sensual parts of her body.

Her body tells me she likes this. She likes it a lot.

“Just as I thought, bad girl,” I tell her, shaking my head with a sigh, as if I’m sorry she’s made me do this. “You lied to me when you told me you didn’t like it, didn’t you? Now this gets a lot more serious, doll.”

I hold her in place again, but this time increase the tempo and weight of my hand when it falls across her perfect ass.

I love the way my palm tingles, the way her ass turns red, the way she squirms but pants, fighting this but not so much that she wants me to stop. I paint her ass and upper thighs, peppering her with shorter, rapid swats and firmer smacks until I reach the point I’m going for—the point where pain melds to heat and pleasure and she slumps over my knees, drunk on endorphins.