The Naked Truth

by Natasha Rostova

The Naked Truth (an excerpt) © 2000 Natasha Rostova.
All Rights Reserved. Printed with permission of the author.
Do not reproduce or distribute without the expressed
written permission of the author.
'Did you or didn't you fuck that punk bastard?' Logan asked, his hands
tightening on her almost painfully. 'Was that "right" for you?'

'What if it was? What are you going to do about it? Punish me?' The
instant she looked up at him, Callie knew she had pushed him over the
edge. 'Logan-'

His eyes burnt. 'Is that what you want? Now that I think about it, a
punishment would be very deserving. After all, you owed me at least an
explanation before you walked out on me.'

'You wouldn't dare.' Suddenly nervous, Callie tried to pull away from
him. His grip was steadfast.

'Wouldn't I?' he asked.

'No.' Her eyes flashed a challenge at him, and before she knew it,
Logan gripped her around the waist and pulled her towards a chair.
He sat down and hauled her over his lap as if she weighed no more
than a feather.

'Logan!' Callie's heart thudded almost painfully as she fought to get
away from him. His thighs were like tree trunks underneath her belly.
'Don't you dare!'

He ignored her as he flipped her skirt up to reveal the cotton of her
underpants stretched over her buttocks. Hooking his fingers into the
waistband, he yanked her knickers over her legs and left them to dangle
around her thighs. Callie gasped as she felt the air on her naked
bottom. He was really going to do this. Logan's hand caressed the
twin mounds briefly before he landed the first loud slap on her backside.
Callie yelped more from shock than any actual pain, but she squirmed
forward to try and escape the inevitability of a second blow.


Logan's hand came down again, the accompanying smack of flesh against
flesh resounding through the air with a sharp tone of finality. Callie cried
out as prickles of discomfort coated her skin, her hips squirming against
his legs. Logan's other arm clamped around her waist, holding her weight
down effortlessly as he spanked her again and again. Callie writhed in
discomfort, feeling her flesh scorched from the sting of Logan's hand
and the embarrassment of her position. He landed another smack and
another, and then Callie realised that the sensation of his hand slapping
her tender flesh spread heat through her lower body. Even as she writhed to
escape his blows, she was aware of an increasing swell centring in her pussy.
And even more distinctly aware of Logan's hard cock pressing into her belly.
The knowledge that this aroused him only served to intensify her own excitement.

'Ow! Logan, you're hurting,' Callie panted. The pain of her bottom
spread through her blood, firing it with pure sensation.

'Isn't that the point of punishment?' Logan replied, his voice both
husky and edged with steel.

Another hot sting landed on her bottom, building into a staccato pattern.
Callie moaned and twisted, rubbing her belly against the increasing
stiffness of his prick, her legs kicking behind her. Her hands scrabbled at the
carpet as she searched vainly for something to grasp on to to pull herself
away, but Logan's grip was inexorable. Her bottom flared with scorched heat.
Then rhythm of Logan's hand paused briefly, his fingers smoothing gently over
her reddened arse before dipping into her sex. He chuckled low in his
throat as he touched the certain dampness.

'Oh.' A moan escaped Callie's parted lips as her entire body went limp
with relief. Her movements shifted subtly into luscious wriggles as Logan's
fingers began to manipulate her folds with an unmatched expertise.

Callie bit her lip on a groan, unable to prevent the thrusts of her hips as she
started to work her body against Logan's fingers. Her mind swam in
sensations evoked by his hard palm slapping against her buttocks, his
fingers sliding into the humid warmth of her pussy, his erection pressing
obscenely against her belly. Poised on the brink, she closed her eyes, her
breath coming in rapid gasps as she struggled to impale herself on his
fingers. Then, the movements of his fingers stopped abruptly.

Callie groaned. 'Logan, please -'

His palm skimmed over her buttocks again before his hands clutched her
waist and pulled her upright. Callie grasped his arm to steady herself as
her head cleared. A pool of unfulfilled desire expanded within her. She
drew in a breath.

'You bastard,' she gasped, her hand going automatically to the tender
flesh of her bottom. 'Can't stand the thought of me with another man, can

Logan stood. His face was a mask, his jaw clenched tightly. He looked
at her for a moment, and then his eyes darkened to black the instant before
his mouth descended on hers. Callie's heart leapt as the sheer power of
his body sank into her. Anger rolled off him in waves. Her fingers clenched a
fistful of his shirt. As his lips pushed hers apart, Logan's hand slipped
around to the small of Callie's back, forcing their lower bodies together. His
cock pushed against her belly with lewd insistence.

Summoning every ounce of energy she had, Callie yanked her head away
from him. Her heart pounded wildly, her skin aflame.

'Now what?' she snapped, well aware that she was goading him to the
point of no return. And also well aware that she was incredibly aroused.
'You're trying to prove me wrong so I'll come home?'

'Suddenly, I couldn't give a rat's ass if you come home,' Logan rasped.
'But wouldn't you like to come right here?'

He clutched the back of her neck and dragged her mouth back to his.
His tongue thrust into her mouth so swiftly that Callie was shocked by the
potent eroticism of his anger. Heat bloomed inside her, swelling her cunt
and firing her blood. She gripped Logan's shirt with her other hand and
was seized by a sudden desire to rip it off him and feel every tight muscle
in his body. She drew in a sharp breath when he pushed her against the
front counter, grinding his hips against hers. Callie twisted her head away
from him as his mouth moved down to her neck, his teeth biting down on the
vein pulsing ferociously at her throat. His breath scorched her skin.

Thoughts spun out of control in Callie's mind, blurring and mixing together
so fast that she couldn't grasp on to anything rational. Buttons popped off
her blouse, scattering to the floor like marbles. Logan yanked the front
clasp of her bra open so quickly that the flimsy material ripped. A sudden
feeling of blatant exposure came over Callie, even as her arousal
intensified. And then Logan's lips were on her breasts, tugging at her
nipples, his tongue laving them with painful strokes. Callie groaned
and felt her body weakening, responding to every touch of his hands and
mouth. His dark hair brushed against her skin in a delicious, feather-light
contrast to the roughness of his touch. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him
towards her, fumbling to unfasten the buttons, hungry to feel the warmth of his
skin. His body heat burnt through the material.

Logan suddenly grasped her hips and turned her around, pushing her down
over the counter. Callie gasped when she felt him yank her skirt up again,
his hand moving over her sore bottom.

'See?' Logan thrust one finger into her dripping pussy. 'If you
weren't a slut before, then you're becoming one, aren't you?'

Callie closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the counter, leaning her
forehead against the cool glass. God, one flick of his finger on her
clit and she'd burst into flames. Logan pushed her legs apart with his
knee, spreading her fully open. A rush of air brushed against her pussy with
delicate fingertips. Through a haze of need, Callie heard Logan unzip
his jeans. Then, he pushed inside her so swiftly that her body jerked

'There,' Logan hissed as her buttocks slammed against his belly. 'Is
that what you want?'

Callie couldn't respond beyond a whimper of pained pleasure. Sweat
broke out on her forehead when Logan began thrusting into her. His fingers
dug tightly into her hips, his body pumping against hers. He leant over her
fully, his breath rasping against her neck. Callie moaned and pushed her
hips back against his as her body began to tighten with pleasure. His belly
slammed against her buttocks, irritating the sore skin, but she no longer
cared. Contrasting sensations filled Callie's entire being: the heat of
Logan's skin and the coolness of the glass, the hard ridge of the counter
pressing against her belly and the hot slickness of Logan's cock. The
uninhibited abandon of her position and the oppressive weight of his body
on hers.

'Hurry,' Callie gasped, her fingers frantic as she tried to reach between her

Logan pushed her hand aside, slipping his fingers around to rub her
clit, his touch rough and quick on her sensitive flesh. Callie cried out as a
wave of intense vibrations shuddered through her body. Her hands tightened
on the edge of the counter as she absorbed every last sensation, relishing the
feeling of Logan's repeated thrusts until he gave a hoarse shout and
came with a force unlike any Callie had felt before.

Silence descended, broken only by the ragged, harsh sound of their
breath. Then Logan lifted himself away from her. Callie felt oddly bereft
without the weight of him against her. She turned slowly, letting her skirt
fall to cover herself. Her bottom continued to burn. As she struggled to
catch her breath, she pushed her damp hair away from her forehead and
eyed her husband warily.

A damp sheen of sweat glistened on Logan's skin, but his eyes looked as
if they had been shuttered closed. He hiked his jeans over his hips and
buttoned them. The air between them thickened with unease.

Callie leant against the counter for support. She was totally uncertain about
what she should be feeling right now, but she was aware of an increasing
sense of dread. How could he have such an effect on her now when he never
had before?
The Naked Truth (an excerpt) © 2000 Natasha Rostova.
All Rights Reserved. Printed with permission of the author.
Do not reproduce or distribute without the expressed
written permission of the author.
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