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caressed her for a moment before striking again, this time several spanks in succession falling over both cheeks equally. She made some noise and wiggled her bottom, unable not to.
    “Shhh…” he coaxed, petting the now sensitive flesh. “I’m just warming you up, baby,” he said.
    When he started again, she struggled and his free hand pressed between her shoulder blades as his leg tightened over hers. Ignoring her struggles, he continued to spank her, alternately caressing her buttocks, which she was sure by now were bright pink if not red.
    “Please,” she begged after an exceptionally painful series. She hugged her arms beneath her chest, knowing if she didn’t, she’d reach back to cover her buttocks.
    He was right; Damien was clumsy in comparison and that was putting it mildly. Luke’s hands on her felt good. The spanking hurt, no question, but it also sent heat straight to her sex and she could feel the slick moisture collect between her thighs as he continued to punish her, not letting up, not easing the power behind the strokes.
    His hard cock dug into her belly while he continued and tears sprung from her eyes. She lost track of how many strokes he’d delivered after the first thirty she’d counted. “Please, Luke…”
    “That mistake will cost you,” he said, his voice hoarse, hard. “This is the end, last ten,” he said, smoothing his hands over her burning buttocks. “Count them out loud.”
    “One!” she called out when the first of the last ten landed. “Two, three…ah, Sir, Sir, please…four.” The first strokes had hurt but these punished, made the others feel gentle in comparison. “I’m sorry,” she said, “five, six.”
    “What are you sorry for? Why are you being punished?”
    “For signing that stupid contract. Ah…Seven…Sir. I’m sorry for not…eight…calling you…oh god, please…nine. Sir.”
    He delivered the final blows to the tops of her thighs, which stung worse than her buttocks.
    “Ten.” Emma lay sobbing, her body relaxing as he rubbed her sore buttocks and thighs.
    “Shh, it’s over now, baby. Shh…you did very well.”
    She allowed herself to be picked up and cradled in his arms. With the back of her hands, she cleared away tears and wiped at her nose while she cried and cried. All the while he soothed with soft words and caresses, holding her to him, shielding her in the safety of his embrace.
    She wasn’t sure how long she cried, but he didn’t stop her until she found herself reaching her mouth up to his. Her tears subsided and her body heaved its final sobs. His hands came to either side of her head, pushing away the hair that stuck to her face as their kiss grew in intensity and heat, both of their bodies now needing the physical release of orgasm. He stood, lifting her with him, and carried her through the house and up the stairs. Switching on a dim light in what she assumed was the master bedroom, he lay her down while he quickly stripped off his clothes. Emma watched buttons pop off in his rush, his chest a muscled mass under tanned skin, his arms defined, powerful. Her eyes settled on his hands and she decided in that moment that she loved them. She needed them on her, inside her, to deliver her pain and then to deliver her from it.
    He took a foil packet out of the drawer in the nightstand and slipped the condom over his cock, then looked at her, his pupils dilated so you could only see a thin ring of blue around the black. It changed his face, made him look somehow more divine than human.
    “Luke,” she said, needing him. She spread her legs wide, allowing him to settle between them. His mouth closed over hers again and his cock, in one hard thrust, drove deep inside her pussy. She held him tight while he lifted her, setting her farther on the bed and laying his weight over top of her.
    “God, Emma,” he said, thrusting into her again and again.
    Her pussy clenched around his cock and he pulled back, his hands on either side of her