“Good. So this is where your wire was?” The hand at her neck slid down, plunging into her cleavage and finding the little spot where the microphone had been taped to her skin. His fingers bumped against the soft curve of her breast, then sidled over to her nipple, which was hard. “Mmm, did wearing it turn you on?”
“No…that’s…you.”
“All down to me? I’m very glad to hear it.” He nudged her face around until it was angled up to his, in the perfect position to submit to another plundering kiss, while his fingers tweaked her nipple mercilessly.
She had no choice but to respond, shivering at his touch, her crotch melting into a pool of need.
“So,” he crooned, inching her around so that she was held in that tango clinch again, minus the arms to the side and with groins jammed together. “You put out for money?” One broad palm dropped to rest on the curve of her bottom.
Tilly flinched, wiggling against the possessive hand. “You make me sound like a hooker.”
“Not a hooker exactly,” he said, with a kiss of her forehead and another on the tip of her nose. “But you aren’t a good girl, are you? A good girl wouldn’t entice her tango teacher into a frenzy of lust, would she?”
“Hey.” Tilly giggled, pushing back against that crudely-placed hand, starting to understand from its light patting motion what he might have in mind. “You’re responsible for your own lust frenzies, you know. You can’t blame me.”
“Oh, yes I can. You’ve been a bad girl, Tilly. What do you think happens to bad girls?”
His fingers grabbed a succulent handful of rump before patting it a little harder this time.
“Oh God.” She trembled on the threshold of a fantasy, one she had never allowed her conscious mind to process. But now this man was doing this to her, it all seemed so clear and so right.
“Is that your answer? It’s not the one I was looking for. What do you think bad girls need, Tilly?”
“Do you want to… are you saying you want to…” She couldn’t say the word.
“I’m not saying anything. I’m asking. You give me your answer and I’ll see what I can do. And I can’t believe a girl who’d blatantly seduce me on the dance floor is shy of telling me what she needs either. Say it, Tilly. Tell me what you…deserve from me.”
“Oh, can’t you just do it?” She jiggled her hips so violently that the paillettes fringing her skirt jingled.
“Do what?”
“Do it to me. Your hand. My, um, my posterior.”
“Uh huh. It’s there.”
“Hit me.”
“Say the word.”
“Oh, you swine. Spank me, then. Spank me if that’s what you want.”
“I can’t hear you.”
“Spank me!” The words rang around the echoing room.
Her head was thrown back in deranged abandon until Calum’s hand fell, just heavily enough, on her left bum cheek. She hissed out an “Ohhhhhh.” It felt better than she imagined, distracting her from the itch in her pussy, yet at the same time intensifying it.
“My pleasure,” he growled. He bent her over one sinewy forearm and lifted her skirt to her waist, taking some time to rub the thin cotton surface of her knickers before starting in earnest. “Who’s been a bad girl?” he whispered, running his thumb along the centre, ploughing a furrow along the crack of her arse. “Who’s going to get what’s coming to her, hmm?”
He knew exactly how hard to slap, and exactly where to place his palm for the most giddying effect. Tilly never felt something as concrete as pain. Instead she breathed and sighed into the delicious tingly sparks he awoke with each smack, feeling her behind catch light gradually but inexorably until it was warm enough to heat the echoing chamber around them.
“You’ve done this before then?” he asked, laying a volley of pitter-pats on to the bare flesh below her knicker elastic, making her squeak a little.
“Never.” She squirmed over his stalwart arm, lifting her feet on to tiptoe.
“Seriously? This is your first time? You’re a natural.”
“Thanks. I mean, that’s good, I suppose. Ooh. It stings a bit now.”