Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren)

"Women should know how to dress up. That's how you bring out real beauty," Andrew said with a teasing smirk.

Chantelle muttered. "Mind your own business. Now you've had your look, haven't you? If you're done, I'm taking it off."

Andrew stepped forward and caught her ankle before she could move. Her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively tried to pull away.

However, Andrew pulled her closer in one swift motion, seating her right between his legs. The position was so unexpected and so suggestive that her mind blanked for a second.

She immediately thought of the position where the woman was on top.

"L-Let me down! You said just look, not touch! Why are you changing the rules?" Chantelle stammered as she pushed against him, trying to escape.

Andrew slapped her on the butt with his big hand. "Don't move around. These tights are delicate, and they'll tear if you struggle."

Still locked in place, Chantelle's frustration bubbled. "Andrew, this isn't the time to mess around! Let me down first. I'm not ready for this!"

Andrew raised a brow. "Ready? What are you trying to get ready for? In the past, you were always pretty cooperative, so why are you playing shy all of a sudden?"

Chantelle's cheeks turned red. "Because it's the middle of the day! Lauren and the others are still out there. They could walk in at any second! And also, I'm not used to doing... that kind of thing while wearing black stockings!"

Andrew loosened his grip.

Chantelle immediately scrambled to the head of the bed, putting some distance between them.

His gaze slowly drifted down her legs, and he let out a low whistle. "Ms. Garcia, those long legs in black stockings? You're giving Lauren a run for her money. They look amazing, and I gotta say, they feel even better. I mean, damn... legs like those? I could have fun with them for years."

Chantelle snapped at him, flustered. "You're such a flirt, Andrew. This sleazy side of you? I really don't like it!"

Andrew stayed perfectly calm. "It's fine. I like it enough for the both of us. Whether you like it or not doesn't matter. Now, get on the bed. Face down. Stick that ass up."

Chantelle froze, thinking she had misheard. "What did you just say?"

Without missing a beat, Andrew somehow pulled out a small leather whip. "Isaid, get on all fours and stick that ass up. Black stockings and a leather whip? They go hand-in-hand. You didn't know that?"

Her mind blanked when she saw that little whip flicking back and forth in his hand. "Andrew... where did you even get that? Y-You're a total perv! I'm not going along with this!"

Chantelle was completely overwhelmed, panic washing over her. For the first time in her life, she actually felt like crying.

Then, came a sharp snap.

The sound was crisp and clean.

Andrew's technique was flawless. Despite her attempt to dodge, his aim landed perfectly-not too hard, not too soft, just right on her backside.

Instantly, Chantelle felt a jolt shoot through her body, like electricity coursing through every nerve. She felt light-headed, like she was floating.

"Andrew, you—"

She tried to shout at him, wanted to scold him, but before the words even left her lips, the second strike landed.

This time, it hit the sensitive spot right at the top of her thighs. Just like that, another deep, soul-shaking tremble surged through her, wiping away all anger and replacing t with something far more confusing.

All her protests crumbled, melting into shaky, incoherent moans. Then, without warning, the dam broke. A flood of heat and shock surged through her as she looked down in disbelief.

The bed beneath her was soaking wet.

Andrew froze mid-swing, holding the third strike in the air. He looked stunned.noveldrama

Glancing at Chantelle with both awe and amusement, he let out a low chuckle. "Ms. Garcia, you really are something... You're dripping!"