His Captive Mortal by Renee Rose

belonged. He swatted her again and she repeated the plunging, growing more eager with each thrust as pleasure began to take over, outweighing the buzz of pain from her punishment.
    “The spanking won’t stop until you come,” he informed her.
    She groaned, her knees buckling.
    He reached his left hand around her hips and added his fingers to the mix again, still spanking with the other palm.  “And don’t even think of faking it, because I can feel your muscles.”
    He needn’t have worried; she was just a few strokes away from orgasm. But then he began to slap harder, causing enough pain to distract her from the pleasure. She bit her lip. Would she be able to make herself come with her ass on fire like this?
    She stilled her thrusting, but he insisted, pinching her clit, then thrusting her fingers and his inside her sopping channel, stretching her wide. “Oh, God,” she whispered. She needed to come. Desperately.
    She whimpered with desire, wanting more than fingers inside her. Charlie seemed to know because he began to finger fuck her with several, or maybe all his fingers together as his opposite hand continued to spank the daylights out of her.
    “Oh...God. Oh, Charlie, oh please...yes, yes, yes,” she babbled incoherently, almost weeping.
    Her body jerked, her core spasming as the best orgasm she’d ever had rippled through her. “Ohh—oh!” she moaned, digging her fingernails into Charlie’s forearm, holding his fingers inside her as she contracted around them. “Oh my God,” she sobbed. “Oh, yes.”
    When she finished, she literally collapsed over the table, her entire body going limp. Within seconds, Charlie had her up in his arms, carrying her to the sofa where he sat with her sprawled on his lap. He cradled her back, lowering her torso and lifting her shirt up over her breasts with his teeth.
    Even completely spent, her pussy gave a squeeze of excitement. He flicked the nipple of one of her breasts and the pain shot as another signal of desire, straight to her molten core. Her shorts and panties still tangled around her thighs and he pulled them off, tossing them to the floor. While some part of her brain registered the vulnerability of lying completely naked and open to him while he sat totally clothed and in control, she felt sexier and more desirable than she’d ever felt in her life. The wolfish way he looked at her told her how enticing he found her and there was a possessiveness about the way he held her, surveying her body with unabashed appreciation.
    Mine. He seemed to project the thought to her. She startled at her first moment of clairaudience. Or was it telepathy? Thought slid away again when he tugged her knee up to expose her pussy. Too relaxed, too exhausted from her orgasm, she wasn’t ready for more, but he slid his hand up her inner thigh until his fingers reached her opening. Inserting two fingers, he pushed them deep inside her and found what must be her g-spot.
    She jerked in surprise at the intensity of the sensation. “No,” she moaned.
    He raised an eyebrow, beginning to pump in and out, hitting the sweet spot every time. “No?”
    “I can’t come again,” she protested. “It’s too soon. Please…”
    “You can and you will. Do you need another spanking? I could use my belt this time.”
    “No,” she said, arching into his hand, her head thrown back, her knees open wide to give him access. It was already too much—she thought she would explode from the sensations he created within her.
    Her hands waved wildly, one of them smacking him in the head.
    “Hold your ass,” he told her. “Squeeze it hard and remind yourself of the spanking you’ll get if you don’t come.”
    She tucked her hands beneath her pelvis and cupped her own cheeks, hot from the spanking.
    “That’s it,” he said, his fingers still working their terrible, wonderful magic. “Hold it up for me, Sasha. Offer your pussy to me.”
    She lifted her pelvis in the air, arching even further,