Expecting Him Read Online Free Page B

couldn’t even find words to shout out at him.
    “What? You didn’t think I’d forget your birthday, now did you? I wanted to make it special for you. Something you’d never, ever forget.”
    He has headed for the stairs and I crawl on hands and knees to the end of the bed.
    "Wait , why would you fuck with me like that?"
    When he looks back over his shoulder at me from the stairwell, his smile is the one I know.
    "It’s simple really," he says, "you needed me to be the bad guy. I get you off like no one else can."
    He lets his hot gaze linger on my still naked body, then gives me a wink. "So I'll see you again, next time he’s gone, won't I?"
    I want to cry in relief. I want to rail at him, screaming and lashing out at him for fucking with the deepest part of my emotions.
    The dark, twisted parts of me want to thank him for being— him . A complete and utter bastard. The man of my sin filled dreams.
    “Yes, yes you will. Next time…”
    I watch him leave the room, fairly skipping down the stairs as he whistled a jaunty tune. Emptiness is already settling in and I feverishly wished he would stay. As fucked in the head as I felt, I wanted more.
    “Martin, wait!” Scrambling off the bed, I snatched m y robe off the hook by the door, hurrying after him.
    As I reached the bottom of the stairs , he is there, sitting on the couch again, obviously having no intention of leaving. With a sigh of relief, I hold on to the banister, nervous as he stared at me.
    “ I decided I’ll take that drink that you offered me earlier now. A whiskey. Neat.”
    Rushing, I fill a short glass for each of us and take it too him, my robe hanging open in my haste to serve him. I see the smoldering look in his eyes as he looks me over and I grab the lapels of my robe to pull it together, sloshing my whiskey over my hand.
    “Nervous? Suddenly shy?” He smirks and pats his lap. “Drink up, and lay over my lap—ass up. I’m leaving something for your husband to find. After all, my birthday girl needs a good, hard spanking.”
    I wince, then take the shot, hoping it bolsters my wrecked nerves. “No. I refuse to let you do that!” There, that sounded brave and strong.
    He didn’t sip his drink like usual. Instead, he smacked it down on the end table, grabbed the belt of my robe and wound it around his fist. With one jerk, the shot glass flew out of my hand as I scrambled to gain purchase, falling in a heap across his lap. I begin to struggle, clambering to get off him.
    If he leaves marks I know my husband will see them if I’m not careful enough. I can’t be found out. He can’t know what I’ve done. He would never forgive me.
    The first slap to my ass is padded some by the robe but it still hurts enough to make me yelp. I hear him grunt, yanking the garment up and over my head, trapping my arms. No matte r what I do or how much I thrash around I can’t dislodge them and get free. I cry out, muffled under the terry cloth and he laughs sadistically, making my blood run cold.
    “Poor, wicked little slut,” he says as he runs his fingers along the slippery slit of my cunt. “So needy, yet always trying to deny what you love.”
    This time when his palm hit the curve of my ass where it meets my thigh, it’s hard enough to rip a scream from my lungs.  
    “Mmm, that’s good mark,” he laughs. “Are your husband’s hands as big as mine, I wonder? If he comes home tomorrow morning intending to give you a late birthday spanking, will his handprint be bigger or smaller than mine?”
    “Fuck you…”
    The slap I receive after that remark was the worst by far. I screech again, longer this time. The sting lasts and burns like fire. I’ll never tell him how much I love it.
    “Careful now. You don’t want to make me mad.” The next hits are rapid fire. A barrage of severe smacks that range from cheek to cheek until I’m sobbing, begging him to stop.
    It surprises me, but h e does. His touch turns tender and he rubs over the swollen