Typist #2 - Spanking the Billionaire Novelist (6 page)

He pulled away from me, grabbed my hand, and charged back out to the sidewalk.

He said, “Now, where did I park that bike of mine?”

Smith drove the vehicle back, the small headlight barely lighting our way. I wrapped my arms around him, enjoying the sensation of hugging him as we rode over the bumpy trail.

Just before we arrived at the cabin, he slammed on the brakes. A family of skunks strolled across the trail in front of us, confident and cocky as hell.

Smith whispered back to me, over his shoulder, “I dare you to go pick up one of those babies.”

I pinched him on the stomach and whispered, “You first.” The skunks dawdled along, in no hurry. “They walk like they're wearing poopy diapers,” I said.

He chuckled, his voice low.

After they'd disappeared into the forest, we drove the rest of the way without incident.

Back at the cabin, Smith turned on the big TV and plugged a hard drive into the media center computer attached to the big screen.

A minute later,
Ghostbusters
was playing on the screen.

“Couldn't let you get away without seeing it,” he said, smiling.

“Do you want popcorn?” I stepped toward the kitchen.

“I want you, Tori. Come and sit with me.” He took a seat on one of the generous-sized sofas and patted the spot next to him.

I got us some bottled sparkling water and joined him on the sofa. He put his arm around me and I rested my cheek on his shoulder, utterly content. There was a part of me that ran through the same worrying thoughts, over and over, like a hamster on a wheel, but when Smith held me or touched me, those thoughts went quiet.

I didn't have to worry about the future, because the only time that mattered was
now
, and we were together now, and that was beautiful enough.

We watched the movie, but Smith claimed to be “too sleepy” to watch the sequel.

I rolled my eyes. “Too sleepy.
I'm so sure.
Is that why your hand keeps slipping in between my thighs?”

His eyelids low and sexy, he said, “Come sleep in my bed tonight.”

“Sleep?”

He kissed my hand. “Be with me, and then sleep with me. The whole deal.”

“Fine. I'll come up, and we'll see what happens. I reserve the right to go to my own bed and get some sleep, though, without some hot, older man trying to see how wet he can get me.”

“Older?” His gold-brown eyes twinkled. “First my earlobes are chubby, and now I'm an older man?”

He got up from the sofa and pulled me to stand before him. I reached up and squeezed his earlobe. “These earlobes are perfect. And so are you. But you are just a tiny bit older than me.”

He winced. “I'm only forty-one.”

“Really?”

“What? You thought I was older?” He hung his head.

“No, I thought you were in your thirties.”

His eyes brightened as his head snapped up. “I have hurt feelings about the earlobes comment.”

“You don't seem that hurt, what with your big grin and all.”

“I'm devastated,” he said, still grinning. “But I think I can settle the score.”

“Oh, really.”

“Go get your hair brush,” he said.

My eyes widened and I swallowed hard. Spanking? From the look on his face, I was to be the spanked one this time.

My mouth opened, but then closed without a peep. My nerves tingled, excitement and fear running through me. The skin over my whole body tightened, and I became aware of the hardness in my nipples and the heat in my pussy.

I ran to my room and quickly freshened myself up with a washcloth in my bathroom. The sensation of the nubby cloth on my erogenous areas felt so good. I gave my teeth a quick brushing, grabbed the wood hairbrush, and left my room. I kept on the blue dress, but left my panties behind.
All the better for spanking.

When I got to Smith's bedroom, the lights were very dim, with a shirt of his draped over the only table lamp that was lit. He was absolutely motionless, sitting on the edge of his bed. He had his shirt and socks off, but his jeans still on, and he looked like the poster boy for masculine sexiness.

“Young lady!” he said, his voice so loud and authoritative, it startled me.

“Yes?” I alternated between crossing my legs and arms, as awkward as a schoolgirl.

His voice stern, he said, “I understand you've been a naughty girl.”

“Maybe.” Even though I knew he was playing around, my fear was still real.

“You let a boy feel you up in public today.”

I gulped. “Yes,” I said meekly, feeling the shame rise up like a tide.

“You let him finger you in a crowded park. And then, you did something even more wicked.”

“Yes.” I dropped down to my hands and knees and began to crawl toward him.

His voice booming, he said, “Tell me what wicked thing you did.”

I crawled to his feet and stopped there, resting my cheek on his knee.

“I went into the alley with a boy.”

He stroked my hair. “Did the boy force himself upon you?”

“Yes.”

He grabbed a lank of my hair and tugged it. “Now, now, Tori.”

“He didn't force me. I wanted it.”

He let go of my hair and stroked my head again, as he leaned forward and took the brush from my hand.

“Stand up and lift your skirt,” he said. “Tell me what it felt like when he spread your legs in the alley.”

I got to my feet, feeling shaky on my legs once more. Trembling, I lifted my skirt to my waist, showing him my bare bottom.

Something touched my flesh—his mouth. He kissed the upper part of my buttock and gently bit it.

“Oh,” I moaned.

His mouth was replaced by the hard brush, slapping against my skin.

My breath caught in my throat, tears rushing to my eyes, but not spilling over.

“Your skirt!” he ordered. “Don't drop it again!”

My hands had flown up, and were crossed over my throat. Hands shaking, I reached down and pulled up my skirt again.

“There's my girl.” His mouth pressed down on my flesh again, the pleasure so sweet and welcome. “How did he make you feel? When he pushed his way inside you?”

“Good.”

The brush smacked against my ass, but this time I moaned, because it felt as good as his kiss. Smith touching me was all I wanted, no matter how gentle or firm, whether it stung or not.

I caught my breath and said, “He made me feel good.”

He smacked me again, the slap reverberating through the dark room. “You can do better.”

“He set my pussy on fire. I wanted him to fill me up, but I can never get enough of him.”

“Are you wet right now?”

“Why don't you touch me and find out?”

“I have a better idea. Don't turn around. Stay like that.”

I heard rustling behind me.

His voice low and softer now, Smith said, “How many more spankings do you want?”

“Five,” I said, the number coming out before I'd given it any thought.

He chuckled, then brought the hairbrush down with a resounding smack.

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, ready for the sensation.

He smacked one buttock, on the side, then the other, then another strike squarely in the middle.

I whimpered and leaned over more.

A finger swept up between my legs, feathering its way between the lips of my pussy. The finger slid forward to my clit and swept over once, then withdrew. I moaned and shuddered with fear and pleasure.

The hairbrush landed one last time, on my right buttock. There was nothing but the sounds of both of us breathing, then he tossed the brush. It landed several feet away from me, but I was still tense with the expectation of more.

Hands on the sides of my hips pulled me back, pulled me onto Smith's lap, and then guided me onto him. The head of his erection slipped easily into my opening, and I gasped as he pulled me all the way down to him.

As I rocked back and forth, facing away from him, Smith pulled my dress up over my head and removed my bra. He fondled my breasts and kissed the back of my neck and shoulders, while pulsing into me from below.

He murmured into my hair, “You're so beautiful. My sexy redhead. Oh, Tori, you're so wet for me, and you make me so hard. I'm going to come. I'm going to come if you don't stop wiggling around on me.”

I pulled away from him and stood.

“Not yet,” I said, gesturing for him to recline.

He complied, pushing himself back and into the center of the large bed.

His cock was stiff, fully engorged. I climbed on top his warm body and eased him back into me, angling my body forward and resting my body against his. Holding my hips still, his cock hot inside me, I kissed his stubbly chin and soft lips.

“How's this?” I murmured.

He grabbed my buttocks and pushed me down, burying his cock within me, filling me up.

Everything below my waist was tingling and ringing like a thousand bells as I ground down against him, finding my own rhythm for pleasure.

I came like a dam breaking, biting and sucking on the flesh of his shoulder as my walls clutched at him and I shook with pleasure.

A moment later, he came, his pulsing member setting off a second wave of my own bliss.

He growled with pleasure, his whole body tensing underneath mine.

I fell against him, my body limp and spent.

I was soaking wet with perspiration, as was he.

We pulled apart, still breathing heavily.

I murmured, “That was so good.”

He pulled me in for a kiss, his unshaven face scratchy on mine.

I pulled away and rubbed my chin. “Yowch. I bet my face is all red and blotchy.”

“I'm sorry,” he said, his eyebrows arching up with concern. “I'll shave right away.”

I nestled up along his side. “You can shave in the morning.”

“In the morning,” he said. “And you'll be here in the morning. In my bed.”

“Only if you want me to.”

“Stay with me,” he said. “Stay here with me. Forever.”

I giggled and kissed his cheek. “Definitely tonight.”

He turned off the light.

As I lay there, thinking about
forever
, and what a funny word it was, he fell asleep. I got up and used his washroom to have a shower, then returned to the bed with him.

I pulled the light coverlet over us. I hadn't slept next to a man since my boyfriend Todd and I broke up. I worried for a moment I wouldn't be able to sleep, but I was out before my worries jumped onto that hamster wheel of obsessive thoughts.

I woke up with something on my cheek. Soft skin. Brushing against my face.

I opened my eyes and realized Smith was rubbing his smooth cheek against my face.

He grinned. “I shaved.”

I grabbed his face in my hands. “Why, so you did.” I smooched him, relaxing my lips to make contact with more of my face. “So kissable.”

He tried to slip his tongue into my mouth, but I held my lips tight together and pushed him away, citing Morning Breath.

“Easy solution,” he said, and he grabbed a pillow and jokingly smothered me with it as he climbed on top of me.

I pushed the pillow away, and he stared into my eyes.

His face was serious, and he used his knees to pry my legs apart. He was at my entrance, and in the next heartbeat, he was inside me. I was tight, not wet yet as I hadn't gotten much warning, but he felt good. I moaned and ran my fingers through his tousled blond hair, and I let him kiss me as much as he wanted. His tongue met mine, and we breathed together as he pushed deeper and deeper inside me.

He gasped, his face changed expression, and he collapsed on me. His cock pulsed inside me, releasing its efforts.

“Ugh,” he said into the space next to my neck. “I blame your sexy body. I wanted to wake you in the night, so many times, but you looked so peaceful sleeping, like an angel.”

“Oh!” I rubbed his back. “Don't sweat it. I'm not going anywhere.”

“No, you aren't.” He withdrew and shifted himself down my body, kissing my breasts and stomach and moving down.

“You don't have to,” I said.

“I want to,” he said, and he licked my clit with the tip of his tongue.

Well, if he wanted to …

He stayed up high with his mouth, focusing his tongue and lips on my clit, using his fingers to fill me and stroke me on the inside, his fingers slick with his fluids.