Avoiding Intimacy (Avoiding 2.5)

“Can you smell me from all the way over there?” she asked, walking a slow catwalk toward him.

“Don’t think I don’t know all.”

“I’d never entertain the idea,” she murmured. She focused on the lessons he had given her about her runway walk— one foot in front of the other, relax your hands, move your body naturally, smooth out that step, smile through your eyes.

“That one,” he pointed crassly, pointing out the second step on her left foot. “That’s the step you rush every time.”

“After four weeks of detailed scrutiny, don’t you think I know which step I falter?” Chyna snapped instinctively. She chewed on her bottom lip as his eyes hardened perceptively.

“What was that?” he asked sharply.

“Nothing. Never mind,” she said quickly, realizing her f**k up.

She was always so brash with everyone. Having a boss was not something she was used to, especially when it was someone like Marco.

“Get your ass over here,” he demanded, pointing at the desk.

Chyna tried not to smile. It would only set him off more. God, did she enjoy doing that. She trailed her hand along the fine piece of carpentry, wondering how old the desk was and if she could acquire it for her penthouse at home. Frederick would freak over it.

“By all means, take your time,” Marco growled.

As she slowly rounded the desk, he reached out and gripped her arm, lurching her forward into him. She swallowed hard. This was his favorite part—taking control.

“Were you talking back to me?” he asked into her ear, nipping her earlobe.

Chyna melted. She would do anything for a domineering guy. It was so her type.

“Yes,” she whispered into his chest.

She loved that he towered over her, even when she wore heels.

“That’s what I thought. You never learn your lesson. I almost think you like it,” he said, his hand fisting softly into her hair. “Do you like it?”

She was having trouble remembering what she was supposed to say as her body pressed up against him. “Yes.”

“You enjoy infuriating me?” he questioned, pulling harder on her hair.

“Oh no! No, Marco. That’s not what I meant.” She nearly groaned. He was so f**king sexy.

“Bend over the desk,” he told her.

“Marco,” she murmured shaking her head. We have no time for this.

“Bend over the f**king desk,” he repeated slowly.

“The Ball—”

“Do you want me to force you?”

Did she ever!

Chyna couldn’t hold the smirk back, and it set him off like it always did. His left hand tightened in her hair, and he used that as leverage to grab her hip with his right hand, turning her around to bend her face first into the desk. Her breathing was heavy, and her lower half was pulsing.

She felt the walls of her sex tightening in anticipation.

He released her hair and ran his hands down her sides, across her taut ass, and between her inner thighs. His touch was intoxicating as his hands splayed her legs farther and farther apart. She thought about reminding him how little time they really had, but she wanted nothing but his hands on her at the moment.

“Don’t worry,” Marco spoke softly as he returned to a standing position. “I won’t leave marks, not when you’ll be wearing that costume.“ She could hear the need in his voice, and she was sure he could feel her body revving up at his touch. She wanted to ask to feel him, even if only through her jeans, but he wouldn’t want her to just yet. Later, he’d make her beg. He’d make her want to beg.

The first blow was always the worst.

He didn’t like to warm her up to it, and he never told her when it was coming. The smack across her ass wasn’t the hardest she had ever received, but she still released a small yelp as her body went forward onto the desk. Marco was already making it better, rubbing the site of his hand mark, easing her discomfort. She would be feeling that one later.

The second and third came together nearly equal in force to the first, and they were just as unexpected. She clenched her jaw to keep from yelling out again.

That hurt like a bitch, but she was so turned on.

He was attentive to her pain, rubbing the area again, while his right hand traveled between her legs. She moaned at the blending of pleasure and pain from his experienced touch.

He slapped her ass again, harder than before. She whimpered, never knowing if she wanted him to stop or continue.

“You’re my little star.”

She nodded her head. She was seeing stars.

“Just the way I f**king like her—that nice piece of ass high in the air and pu**y screaming my name,” he said, stroking her more demandingly before landing another blow. “Star?”

“Uh huh?” she all but moaned in anticipation as his hand came down another time. God, yes!

“You were a bad girl. You like me f**king punishing you? Do you like this?”

he asked, his hand coming down hard and quick.

Chyna wondered if it really would leave a mark, but at this point, she couldn’t care less. She had other things on her mind.

His hand fisted in her hair, tugging on it hard enough to pull her head back, her back arching. He teased her, smacked her lightly, as he pressed against her just like she had wanted. She felt his erection against her ass, and she gyrated her hips.

“You like when I show you how bad you are?”

She responded by grinding her ass harder against him.

“Star?” he cooed, slapping her ass until she stopped moving. “You clearly like me punishing you. Do you like being punished or teased?”

She bit her lip hard and waited for the spanking she knew she deserved when she didn’t answer. It was an exhilarating feeling, knowing how much he was enjoying himself while he aroused her growing climax.

Marco’s hand returned to play between her legs, and she gasped as her head was released back to the desk.

Another smack hit her ass hard. “Answer me. Do you like to be punished or teased?”

“Both,” she managed to get out. God, he did things to her that were unbelievable. Her body was on fire. She would have pleaded for release if he would give it to her.

“That’s right. You like both, and I like both,” he said, rubbing her ass between both of his hands. He moved them to her hips and forced her back against his dick.