Free Night Fall on Dark Mountain by Delilah Devlin Page B

his jaw and the fullness tenting his trousers. Please, please, fuck me now. But she held back the words, secretly dying to see what he’d do next.
    He doubled the belt between his hands and jerked apart his arms, snapping the belt with a crack that echoed like a rifle’s report inside his office.
    Her heart thumping with trepidation and excitement, Stasia eyed him warily. “I don’t know what you’re thinkin’, Sheriff, but that belt better not come anywhere near my ass, or I’m walking.” Her threat rang hollow, even to her ears, especially since it was delivered with a quavering voice.
    He cracked the belt again, and she jerked. Her traitorous pussy clenched and wept. For a moment, eying his tense jaw and hard gaze, she wondered if she’d pushed him too far—and whether he really had the guts to follow through with the threat.
    Unsure and unnerved, she wriggled up, trying to find the ground beneath her dangling feet when the first sharp slap struck her quivering bottom. “Ow!” she howled.
    His hand shot out and shoved her back over the desk, and he leaned over her, the hard ridge of his clothed cock burrowing against her pussy. “Not ’til I say so, sweetheart. You’ve been a very bad girl.” He drew away sharply when she flexed to tilt her pussy and deepen the caress.
    Stasia moaned her disappointment and struggled up, her breath catching at the next stinging snap. “Bastard! I’m not a child for you to punish.”
    “No, you’re not. You’re my woman—and you won’t forget it after I’m through with you.”
    The hard, unyielding tone of his voice set her pulse jumping, and she nearly swooned when he striped her bottom with several more burning slaps of leather. “You think I’m gonna fuck you after this?” she shrieked, her anger a pretense. “You’re crazy! You low-down mother-fu—ouch!”
    “You’ll address me with respect,” he said, his voice cold and hard. “I’m your master, Stasi. Say it!”
    The belt rose and fell, not hard enough to raise a welt—part of her acknowledged the care he took to avoid really hurting her, but another part reveled in his dominance and wanted more of his violence. “Never! I don’t belong to anyone.”
    “Wrong answer.” He swatted her again, this time grazing her tender pussy.
    Stasia’s breath caught on a jagged sob, and she sank against the desk, gripping the edge as deep inside her desire coiled tightly, liquid fire spilling from her body. The next stinging glance against her cunt had her curling to rub her breasts on his desk pad, scraping the aching tips on the edge of the papers. She mewled and squirmed as the next stripes fell, warming places not yet touched by his careful punishment.
    A hand caressed her bottom. “Your butt’s all pink and hot.”
    A finger dipped into her pussy, and her inner muscles clamped around it.
    “Jesus, you’re hot. Ready to call me master, or do you want more?”
    “You can go to hell,” she said, sniffling, her ass and pussy on fire.
    The belt landed on the desk beside her face, and he leaned over her again, nudging apart her legs roughly with his knees and reaching for her hands. His heavy weight pressed her into the desk, but before she could choke out a protest, he wrapped the belt around her wrists and cinched it tight.
    She bucked against him, alarm lifting goose bumps across her skin and spiking her nipples painfully tight. “Let me go now!”
    “You don’t make demands. You serve me, got that?”
    “Fuck you!” She bucked again, but only managed to center his cock along the seam of her pussy. “Ah!” She convulsed, the first spasm of an orgasm overwhelming her. She squirmed to rub harder against him.
    “You need to learn your lesson,” he gritted out and lifted his hips away.
    She nearly wept with frustration until she heard the scrape of his zipper. Oh God! He’s going to fuck me now. Yes! She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath.
    The blunt head of his cock pushed between her