Page 71 of Forbidden Billionaire
“That would be amazing. But I’d need to change, and I don’t want to hold you up.”
“We’ll wait.” He releases me. “As long as you don’t wear anything to tempt fate. And don’t give me any fucking excuses about how the AC doesn’t work over there.”
“Yes, sir.” Why the hell did I say that? And why did it feel so natural?
I hurry back upstairs to put on a T-shirt and a pair of leggings. They’re too restrictive, but at least they’re lightweight.
He pushes off the car to open the door for me. “If you think those are better, you’re wrong, Ms. Hollis. I can see the outline of your ass. And you’ll pay for it, later.”
With that, and me blinking in confusion, he helps me into the car.
Against my protests, he walks me back up to my old apartment, his hand warm at the small of my back.
The moment we’re inside, he turns to me. “Do you know what the sit spot is?”
Confused, feeling as if I’ve missed something, I shake my head.
“You’re about to find out.”
Before I can blink, he ensnares my wrist and turns me, just enough to angle me toward the wall beside the door. Not forcefully—but with purpose. He slides one hand down my spine. With the other, he takes hold of my waistband.
“Wait—” My voice breaks as he tugs down the leggings and my panties in one practiced motion, baring my ass to him.
Frantic to escape, I wiggle.
“Be still.” His voice is a dark, threatening caress.
Then he places his palm against the curve of my ass, just below the swell, where my thighs begin. His fingers press in slightly, tracing the outer line of a tender zone I hadn’t realized could feel like this—charged, electric.
“This,” he tells me softly, “is your sit spot.”
The pads of his fingers glide across the skin, sending ripples through me.
“It’s where naughty girls get reminded of the rules.”
And then he spanks me.
Once. Firm, deliberate, with his hand cupped just enough to make the impact resonate.
I gasp—more from the shock of it than the pain. But it’s followed instantly by another, this one a little sharper, a little deeper.
My thighs tremble. My pussy clenches. The sting blooms and lingers like the echo of his name in my head.
Xavier hums his approval. “That’ll leave a little heat. Not too much. Just enough. And to ensure you learns the lesson…”
He spanks me again and again, at least a dozen times, until I’m crying out and sobs are catching in my throat. It’s not pain—not exactly. It’s more of a release I never knew I needed.
“That’s it.” Without warning, Xavier slides his hand between my legs, parting me with dominant intent. His fingers find me slick, open, aching. One glides in. Then another.
“Oh—God?—”
“No.” His denial is a murmur against my ear as he slowly fucks me with his fingers, angling them just right to tease that aching, tender place inside. “No coming. Not here. Not yet.”
He strokes me until I’m right there, on the precipice, quaking in his grasp.
Then he pulls his hand away.
The loss is so abrupt I whimper, offering my hips to him.
