Free Timeless by Brynley Bush Page B

you more than you can take. Do you trust me to know your limits?”
    I nod again. There’s no one on Earth I trust more. Marcus is one of the most honorable men I’ve ever met. I sneak a sidelong glance at him. I always feel safe with him, even when he looks imposing as hell and has a belt in his hand and my naked ass in his sights.
    “Good. I think a dozen will be sufficient. I want you to count each one, then thank me and ask for another.”
    “I…” I start to bluster indignantly.
    “The appropriate response is ‘yes, sir,’” he interrupts implacably.
    “Yes, sir,” I say meekly.
    One hand slips up the front of my shirt and pinches my nipple. I jump slightly, but quickly resume my stance over the couch.
    “Very good,” he says, and his chuckle of approval warms me all the way to my toes. “Widen your stance.”
    I inch my feet apart slightly.
    “More.” The command sends little shivers of desire dancing along my skin.
    God, I feel even more vulnerable now with my legs more than shoulder distance apart, my ass and sex blatantly exposed. And it’s hot as fuck!
    I catch his slight movement out of my peripheral vision and I squeeze my eyes closed, steeling myself for the sting of the belt, but instead he lays it gently across the small of my back. Then, just like last night, his big warm hands are on my butt, rubbing and kneading it oh so deliciously. And—smack!—a few heavy thudding spanks with his hand at the juncture of my thighs, followed by a few harder slaps on each cheek. Then more rough squeezing and a few more well-placed spanks.
    My ass is feeling pretty warm right now, and I can’t help but rub my pelvis against the back of the couch. Who knew a spanking could be so damned erotic?
    The belt hits my primed buttocks like a blaze of fire.
    “Motherfucker!” I yell.
    The bastard has the nerve to actually chuckle. He reaches under my shirt and fondles my breast again, tugging on the nipple. I try to squirm away and he pinches it sharply. “That wasn’t the correct response, gattina,” he chastises softly, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
    “One,” I say between clenched teeth.
    “And…” he prompts, trailing the soft leather over my sensitive ass. A shiver runs up my spine, but I’m far from cold.
    “Thank you. Please give me another.”
    He cracks the belt against my left buttock. Damn, it stings!
    “Two. Thank you. Please give me another.”
    The third hits me on the right cheek.
    “Three. Thank you. Please give me another.”
    The fourth is the hardest yet, striking me right at the top of my thighs.
    “Fuck! You are a sadistic bastard!”
    “Am I?” He glides his finger over my pussy lips and plunges into my wet opening. “Is that why you’re so wet?” I’m not fooling him for a second. He slips it out and circles my clit slowly. “I think you’re forgetting something,” he murmurs in my ear.
    “Four,” I say breathlessly. Despite the sting on my ass, or maybe somehow because of it, I’m impossibly aroused. “Thank you. Please give me another one.”
    The fifth and sixth are light glancing blow, and this time when I thank him I do it a little more genuinely. My butt is grateful for the reprieve. He drags the belt between my legs so that the smooth leather grazes over my needy clit and I moan. He’s killing me.
    “My belt makes you wet,” he observes.
    I would answer, but I’ve lost my ability to speak.
    He finds it with the next slap of leather against my already flaming hot skin.
    “Ouch!” Another firm tug on my nipple has me yelling, “Eight! Thank you. Please give me another.”
    This time he doesn’t let go. He squeezes my breast and fondles my nipple, rolling the taut peak between his fingers expertly. Still squeezing and pulling my nipple with one hand, he lands another stripe across my ass.
    “Nine,” I manage, my voice strangled. “Thank you. Give me another one, dammit!” I’m ready for this to end so I can finally feel his cock inside of