Free Sinful by Carolyn Faulkner

– right where she least wanted him to. And that bold finger continued to molest her, although she had succeeded – just barely – in suppressing her all out desire to sacrifice the health of her behind in order to preserve her modesty. She kept her hands at her sides, clenching the bedclothes in a death grip against the waves of sinful sensations that wracked her body with every casual flick of his fingertip.
    “Open your thighs for me, Lita.” Brandt knew exactly what he was asking of her. He knew just how hard it was for her to do any of the things they’d been doing since they got to the hotel. But he was just underhanded enough to use the fact that she’d been raised to acquiesce to male authority to achieve his goals, and to use spanking – which he knew she had been subjected to as a child – in order to reinforce his demand for obedience. He thought it fit perfectly with the situation they were in. It was an intimate punishment that involved the baring of an area of her body, in which he had an intense interest, and she had an intense mortification response to, and it reinforced his position, one that she was more than comfortable in him assuming anyway.
    But he wasn’t about to cut her a break about what he expected of her, which was obedience. He knew she was struggling, but he expected that – above all else – she would do as she was told. And he wasn’t going to start their intimate relationship letting her think that he was going to let her get away with anything; it was always easier just to be strict from the start, rather than trying to earn back ground you’ve already surrendered in that area.
    So when she took longer than he had allowed – which really was no more than a few seconds – to do as he bid, she found herself again face down on the bed, bottom up over his thigh, having her backside redecorated in an even more alarmingly vivid shade of red.
    When he repositioned her again, her legs fell apart before he’d even moved his hand to cover her. “Good girl,” he whispered softly, settling down beside her to draw an impertinent nipple into his mouth as he let his hand have free rein of her, one big leg capturing her nearest thigh to hold her even further open for his explorations. By merely stretching out beside her, he’d immobilized one of her arms beneath him, so the only way she had left to defend herself, really, was her left hand which was all but useless since she was very strongly right handed.
    She was still crying when he first began to touch her, and he knew her bottom must sting horribly, so he considered it a matter of pride that he was able to get her back to the point of moaning rather than hiccoughing sobs within a relatively short amount of time, although her free hand did – once or twice – come off the bed, reflexively, and in response to him moving his fingers further down her slit.
    His response was the same as it would have been if that hand had grabbed his wrist. By the time he had to turn her over for the last time, she was begging him not to do it, but he steeled himself and gave her what he knew they both needed to be happy, overall, in this relationship.
    That last time, she rebounded right back to where she had been even more quickly, and he knew he had her. Her body – and parts of her psyche – craved this kind of attention, this kind of discipline, delivered by a man who wasn’t afraid to administer it. She needed someone who also obviously cared about her and didn’t discount her, and who would assume the ultimate authority in her life and be completely comfortable with it.
    He was definitely that man.
    Each time his fingers returned to the entrance to her body, he found her wetter than before. “My, my, Lita, what do we have here? You scream ‘no’ when I punish you, but your body has other ideas, doesn’t it?”
    Her response was swift and almost feral. “NO!”
    “You can’t deny it, honey. This is what you were made for. I don’t want