He helped her up and, against her expectations, pulled her suddenly into him for a stolen, breathless kiss.
‘Can’t resist you in that underwear,’ he whispered, hot breath warming her ear. ‘But first things first.’ He patted her bottom and led her over to the dressing table chair.
It was a little too low for a man of Jason’s stature, which meant that his thighs were sloped down when she was pulled across them. She rolled down them until she was tight against his stomach, her legs draped inelegantly.
‘This won’t work,’ he said. ‘Can’t get the right angle. Let’s ge
t you on the bed.’
It took some working out, but eventually Jenna was on all fours with her bottom pushed out, the elastic strapping stretched over her curves so that she could feel quite vividly what a tempting target it presented.
Jason paced around her, mouth-watering in his suit trousers and jacket with the sleeves rolled up, taking pictures on his phone until he was satisfied.
‘Oh …’ An unwelcome thought occurred to her. ‘You aren’t going to paint this?’
‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘But I never say never.’
He put the phone away.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘no more chat from you. It’s time to get down to business.’
He knelt beside her, perpendicular to her prostrated form, and put a hand on her bottom, rubbing it all over. His other hand held her shoulder, as if to prevent her wriggling up the mattress in an escape attempt.
‘And remember,’ he said, looming over her and running a finger along the exposed crack of her buttocks. ‘This is just for starters.’
The first smack rang out. It wasn’t hard, but it still took Jenna’s breath away. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be really prepared for this. She could try and remember how it felt, but the first stroke would always surprise her.
She tried to keep still and take it stoically, thinking that perhaps he would finish sooner if she behaved well, but after the first few slow and exploratory strokes, he started to speed up, then to increase his force.
She couldn’t stop herself jolting around under his hand with little gasps and squeals of discomfort. His hand on her shoulder kept her in position, his fingers spreading around to gather the back of her neck in a firm grip.
‘You can’t get away,’ he reminded her. ‘You know how to stop this, but I’m not going to give you any less than you deserve. If you stop me, I’ll just have to postpone the rest of it till later on.’
Oh God. The thought of him spanking her until she begged him to stop, then simply having to wait for round two was awful, yet also very arousing. Perhaps he’d put her in the corner to wait for the rest of it. Perhaps he’d make her do all sorts of things, take him in every possible way, knowing throughout that it was only an interlude in her continuing punishment. Perhaps he’d find other ways to punish her while she was made to wait.
She felt the throb between her legs. She put her thighs together, but he seemed to understand why, and he paused in the spanking for a moment to investigate the area.
‘Turning you on, is it?’ he said hoarsely. ‘Well, we can’t have that. Hold it right there.’ He began to unbuckle his belt and she couldn’t take her eyes from the sight. It was electrifyingly hot, to see him pull the snake of leather sharply through its loops until it was wrapped around his fist and doubled up, ready to go to work on her tingling backside.
The first little snap on her skin was like a static shock, a crackle of something akin to, but not quite, pain.
But it soon burned into something more substantial. The belt fell, with increasingly loud force, over and over upon her tightening skin.
Jenna held tight to the covers, bunching them in her fists as she bucked and writhed without effect. Jason kept his hold on her, plying the strap over and over again until she knew her rear end must be rosy red.
‘Getting it now,’ he said softly, under the crack, crack, crack of the belt. ‘Getting it good and proper. What you deserve. Don’t lie to me, Jen. Don’t ever lie to me.’
The words, rather than the pain, brought a salty rush of tears to her eyes.
He was hurt. She couldn’t seem to stop hurting him, although she never meant to. She did deserve this. And she would take every single stroke, if it meant she had to …
‘Oh God,’ she cried. ‘God, it hurts.’
He stopped in mid-stroke, the belt dangling over her bottom.
‘Enough?’ he asked.
She wiped a tear quickly from her cheek.