Under by Duress(48)

By: Kayla Stonor


Rossini froze, his glass of Pomerol midway to his lips. “Don’t you dare!”

Tahima opened her eyes wide, played at debating the wisdom of what she was doing, and then tilted her glass a little more.

The effect on Rossini was electric. His eyes took on a glittering intensity that gave Tahima goose bumps. He stood taller. His commanding presence filled the room and lifted the hairs on the back of her neck. Butterflies took flight inside her tummy. Sakes alive! She liked this Rossini. She wanted more. Tilting the glass past the point of no return, she watched his reaction as blood-red wine soaked into the priceless rug.

Rossini’s eyes turned black. He put his glass down. “Don’t move.”

Tahima couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. His voice froze her to the spot. Her stomach clenched deliciously as he walked over, took the empty glass out of her hand and placed it on the mantle.

“You asked for this,” he reminded her.

His soft voice was deceptive and Tahima nearly swooned. “I did.”

“Choose a safe word.”

“Enough.”

His lips twitched. “A good choice.”

“I won’t need it.”

“We’ll see.”

He ripped her dress off, taking her by surprise. “Strip.”

Tahima’s knees almost gave way. She put her hand behind her to unclasp her bra, but she was all fingers and thumbs.

He snorted. “Turn around.”

She did, and then her breasts were free, her bra halfway across the room. She managed to peel her panties to the floor and step out of them before Rossini spun her around to face him.

“I think we’ll leave your shoes on,” he said before stepping to her right.

His next move took her by surprise. His left arm went behind her back and curled around her waist forcing her to bend over. He both supported and pinned her in a position perfect for a spanking. His fingers underneath her belly extended between her legs and probed her entrance until she moaned and pushed down on them.

Instantly, his free hand landed a stinging slap on her left buttock. She squealed, her breasts swelled, and she grabbed at his leg for support. He caressed her behind, fingers kneading and rubbing.

Then he slapped her a second time on the other cheek.

The spanking was light to start, alternating on both cheeks, warming her skin. Then he shifted his grip so that the fingers between her legs were slipping in the moisture oozing out. He found her clitoris and pressed until she could hardly stand while he massaged her tingling ass some more.

Tahima moaned.

“This is for leaving me in bed with a hard on,” he warned.

She yelped as his hand smacked her with increasing severity, then she dipped her knees to force his fingers in deeper.

“And this is for teasing me while I was trying to run a business.”

That transgression warranted five quick stinging slaps that left her screaming for mercy. He rubbed her ass until the receding sting etched a sweet ache in her loins. Now she wanted to scream for him to get on with it. He waited for her to shove her ass into the air and then whacked her twice on the under curves meeting her upper legs.

“Fuck!” she yelped as her stomach performed somersaults.

The language earned her a flurry of blows that left her falling forward and her desire soaring. He supported her. Then as she was reaching what promised to be a devastating peak, he withdrew his fingers.

“No . . .” she wailed.

“I promised you two and a half days of torture, Tahima. This is only the start.”

“Rossini . . .”

He picked up her ruined dress and tore a strip out of it.

“Turn around, hands behind your back.”

“Please . . .”

“Now!”

She spun round, presented her wrists to him and shivered as he bound them together with silk. Her nipples were so hard all she could think about was his teeth sinking into them. She heard him tear more fabric and then he was covering her eyes. The silk was sensuously soft and the sudden darkness heightened her senses to the point of agony. She squeezed her upper legs together, desperate to recover the orgasm he’d left hanging, but then his feet were forcing her knees apart.

He was determined to make her suffer.

“Don’t move an inch,” he warned her.