Page 33 of Draco's Defiance

“No, I’m—”

There was no time to complete her sentence. One sharp jerk of her hand was all it took to shift her weight over him and before she knew it, her middle had landed over his thighs with a gentle thud.

“There.” He patted her rump smugly. “That’s where you need to be.”

Her head spun as her fingertips grazed the carpet. That had to be the least dignified way anyone had ever gotten into position, assuming there was a way of being spanked with dignity? Her brow creased as she struggled to decide.

“You have an incredible ass, little girl.” Draco ran his palm over the curve of her backside. Her choice of thong ensured there was little fabric to slow his progress. “It’s gorgeous. Just like the rest of you.”

“Thanks?”

It was even stranger accepting a compliment now she was upturned. She always suspected that the meeting would be memorable, but it was turning out to be even more overawing than she’d been prepared for.

“You’re welcome.” His exploration paused, his palm closing over one cheek and squeezing roughly. “You wanted to be spanked, and that’s what’s about to happen.”

Oh, God. Panic flooded her senses as she tried to take in the enormity of what was about to happen.

“You have your safe word, and now, Miss Craig, you discover what it means to submit.”

His hand left her behind, barely giving her brain time to register the change before swatting her exposed flesh.

Shit! The expletive rang out in her head as her mouth parted. He’d struck her, and this time there had been no pleasure to divert from the reality. In truth, the strike hadn’t really hurt, but the fact that she was strewn over him in such a vulnerable way amplified the impact. She was his to spank, at least as long as he decided so, and only her safe word would save her.

“Look at you.” His free hand rested at the small of her back, holding her in place while his other hand spanked her backside. One, two and then three strikes rained down, catching the middle of both cheeks. “All mine.”

Moira’s toes curled at the truth of his statement. There was something absurdly compelling about her submission, as though true surrender had only started once she’d been flung over his knees. She couldn’t deny how mortifying it was to be like this. Virtually naked and stretched over him, she’d never felt more exposed in her life, more vulnerable to any man’s judgment. Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to let go of the building shame and cede to his palm as, clipping one cheek and then the other, he continued to swat her.

“Your ass was made for this.” Approval oozed from his voice as his hand lowered, peppering the place her behind met her thighs. She tensed at the blows, wishing they weren’t on such a sensitive spot. “It was made for my palm.”

These strikes were harder to bear, and it didn’t take long before her hands balled into fists, her nails digging into her palm as she struggled to contain the hurt.

I could use my safe word.

Blowing out a breath, she blinked her eyes open as she considered the choice. She could use it, but then what? Would he be disappointed in her inability to stay the course? Or worse, would she?

There might never be another moment like this one, never be another man like Draco and another chance to experience the strange and yet captivating blend of pain and stimulation his palm brought to her body. She refused to give in so soon. Moira needed to know how this ended, and the odd part of it was, she sensed in doing so, she’d learn something about herself in the process.

“Very good, little girl.” As though he’d heard her thoughts, the onslaught paused, his hand skimming her heated skin as he went on. “It’s time we got rid of these.” He tugged at her panties. “They’re in my way.”

She couldn’t reply as he pulled at the skimpy fabric, the weight of her embarrassment burgeoning as she lifted her hips to aid their escape. She held her breath as he dragged them to just above her knees and then, to her horror, his hand skimmed back along the back of her legs on its way to her rosy ass.

Why is he leaving them there? She held her breath at the humiliating question.

“That’s better.” Glee radiated from his voice as he grabbed her tender cheek and massaged it.

Better? Burying her toes into the carpet, that wasn’t how Moira would have described it. She would have preferred he remove her underwear completely. There was something degrading about having her panties rolled halfway down her legs. It was as though she was a naughty schoolgirl receiving swats from her headmaster.

“Your ass is starting to go a very pretty shade of pink, Moira.” His hand slipped between her legs while his other hand trailed around her body to play with her breast. “Soon it’ll match your pussy.”

“Sir...” Whatever she thought to say next stuck in her throat as she struggled for composure. What was he trying to do to her? Belittle her into surrender? She could hardly think at all now his hand was stretching and teasing her nipple. How could one hand bestow so much hedonism while the other inspired hurt?

Use your safe word. The instruction rattled around her mind. There’s no shame in it. That’s why he established one.

Moira recognized the logic, yet she couldn’t bring herself to comply. Calling time on the spanking felt like failure. She had to see the experience through, had to know how far Draco would go and how she would tolerate it.

“Do you need to use your safe word?” His voice thundered over her, his ability to seemingly respond to her internal monologue starting to perturb. How was he doing this? Was it only a coincidence that Draco appeared to be able to read her mind?

Don’t be ridiculous. She grasped at the deep pile fibers under her fingertips. He doesn’t know what I’m thinking.