Crush Me by Black Stasia

Author:Black, Stasia [Black, Stasia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-01-04T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

“I assume you know what a safe word is?” he continues, “They’ve become something of a pop-culture reference.”

I just lay there, shocked. I mean, certainly enough in my life has shocked me over the past two months, but I think this just might take the cake.

“Answer me, Calliope.” His voice is a commanding growl. “Say the safe word.”

I take a deep breath in, ready to tell him to go to hell when I realize what I’m doing. I’m breathing again. Not hyperventilating. But right when I realize it, the crippling terror comes rushing back. Charlie. David and his wife threatening to take him away. The very real possibility that I’ll lose my baby. Just like that, my lungs constrict again and my whole body begins to shake.

“The safe word,” Jackson demands. “Acknowledge it.”

“Red,” I squeak.

At then it’s like opening the floodgates. Both literally and figuratively. Jackson’s hand starts coming down on my ass, a sharp percussion that stings at first and then becomes progressively harsher until I’m squirming in his hold.

It hurts but in the part of my mind still capable of thought, I can tell he knows what he’s doing. He’s holding back and giving only what I can take, not putting his full strength into it to actually hurt me.

And then my mind seems to detach completely from everything else. My concentration narrows to each slap as it lands. He works up and down my cheeks, down to the curve where my butt meets my thigh and then back up again.

I don’t even realize I’m crying until the blows slow and then stop. It’s not from the pain. I don’t even try to make sense of it. I can’t. I don’t want to. And in this moment, it feels like I don’t have to. I don’t have to think at all.

Jackson’s hands are gentle now as he caresses the stinging flesh he was smacking moments before. It only makes me cry harder. Me, who never cries.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, “let it out.”

And I do. My ass is warm—no, red hot—under his hands. He continues his gentle stroking and when his massage moves lower to between my thighs, I press back against his touch. Needy. Because God, I was too mixed up to realize it even seconds before, but the spanking didn’t only make my ass hot.

I’m wet. Drenching wet. It doesn’t make any more sense to me than anything else since I’ve stepped into this limo tonight, but Jackson’s hands are so sure, so decisive. He’s so perfectly in control in a moment where I’m anything but.

One long finger slips easily inside me and he hisses out a long breath. “So ready. So perfect. You’re so beautifully made.” A second finger joins the first and even though it’s probably the least sexy thing in the world, I can only cry harder at his words. Perfect? Beautiful? How can he say that?

“That’s right, beautiful,” he whispers, his deep voice a rumble as his thumb finds my clit. His other hand delivers another sharp thwack against my ass.

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