She's frozen for a moment, staring at me with wide, panicked eyes. Then she turns away, facing the sink. Taking her hand out from where I saw it, she places it on the countertop.

She was touching herself.

I know it’s true, but my brain can't process it. It's like every fantasy I’ve ever had come to life. My mind might be working slowly, but my cock springs to action in an instant, pushing at my jeans.

I've been out in the cold, but inside the cabin is warm and I can smell her sex. The air is heavy with her arousal, her unique feminine musk making my mouth water.

“What were you doing?” I repeat, my voice dropping lower.

“Nothing.” She keeps her back to me, as if that's going to keep me away.

The last 48 hours I’ve been walking around so painfully hard it’s breaking records. My balls are blue, my cock about to explode. I’ve been gritting and baring it, not wanting to frighten my little virgin. Trying to do the right thing. Trying to give her space. And she’s been in the cabin finger-fucking herself? Oh, hell no.

“Why are you wearing my clothes?” Stepping closer, I stalk my prey, my years of training coming back to me on instinct. I know all about how to trap and question a guilty party.

“I had to wash mine.” In the kitchen sink I can see clothes soaking. She must've stripped down completely. That means no panties. She's bare. My nostrils flare and my chest swells as she stands there facing the wall, trembling. I have almost a foot of height on her and maybe 100 pounds.

I draw closer, coming up behind as I lean down over her. “You were touching yourself.”

“No,” she protests, breathing fast. I run a hand along her upper arm. Her skin is smooth and warm, but she gets goosebumps at my touch.

“You’re shivering.”

“I'm cold.”

There’s nothing I like more than cornering her, helpless, hearing her try to make up excuses when we both know the truth. “You’re nervous because you've been caught.”

“No.” She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with if she thinks she can lie to me. I’m getting a full confession.

“I’m wound so tight,” I hiss down by her ear. “I’m staying away from you, keeping my hands off. Then I walk in and find you with your fingers in your pussy? Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

“I wasn't doing anything, I swear.”

I stand up, grabbing her waist and pulling her around to face me. Fingers around her wrist, I bring her guilty hand up to my face, her fingers at my nose. I close my eyes and inhale her scent, pungent and sweet, the evidence of her arousal coating her fingers.

My tongue flicks out to taste, drawing her fingers into my mouth, licking, sucking her juices down like ambrosia. Groaning, I never want to taste anything again but her. Swirling my tongue around her fingers, I open my eyes. She's watching my mouth, her lips parted, pupils dilated, breathing fast with pink in her cheeks. My virgin is aroused.

The second I let go of her fingers she snatches her hand away, as if that could undo the discovery I've made.

“You were touching yourself.” I run a finger down her cheek. “Do you know what that does to me? How that teases me?”

“I didn’t mean to tease you.” She’s near tears. A gentleman would let her get away with it, accept her flimsy denials and allow her to bow out of the situation gracefully. I’m no gentleman.

Rough, I spin her around and bend her over the counter. Holding her there with one hand on her back, my other hand travels to the waistband of the sweatpants.

“Are you bare under these?” I growl.

“I had to wash my clothes.” Her voice is a sob. She sounds frightened. I'd stop if I could, but the dark beast within me is in control now.

I caress the curve of her buttocks. “You have nothing on underneath?”

“No, nothing.” She’s panting, wriggling and caught.

It doesn't take much to slide the sweatpants down. They're so big on her they drop right off. I step back a few inches, admiring the finest sight I’ve ever beheld. She’s bent over the counter, her ass bare and yielding in the warm glow inside the cabin. Primal need surges through me as I run my large, rough hand over her smooth, soft skin. Everywhere I’m hard, she’s ripe and curved.

“Now I’m going to check if you’re wet,” I tell her, gruff and low. She whimpers and shivers under my touch. “Be a good girl and spread your legs for me.”

Slowly, she steps out of the sweatpants pooled at her feet and moves one foot to the side. I'd force them apart, but it's much more gratifying to watch her choose to submit. I’m watching her respond to the calling within herself to do my bidding, to please her mate. She lifts and moves her other foot, spreading her legs nice and wide for me. She’s making little whimpering sounds, choking back tears, caught in that dizzying space between fear and arousal. I have never heard anything sexier.

“Don’t worry,” I murmur, caressing her ass. “You have nothing to hide. Not from me.” I trail my fingers lower. “To me you show everything.”

I sink my finger into her pussy. She cries out. She’s tight, gripping my finger like a vice, but I slide right in. “So fucking wet, Olivia. You were touching yourself.”

“No,” she sobs.

Removing my hand, I raise it and spank her hard across her plump little ass. It leaves a pink mark, branding her as mine. “Tell me the truth. I came in here and you were finger fucking yourself.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” she cries, ashamed of herself, humiliation burning through her.

“You need my hand, don’t you?” I grit out. I spank her again and again, my hand raining down on her vulnerable ass as she gasps and cries out, her buttocks clenching and quivering. I claim her flesh as mine, all mine. Her high-pitched squeals mingle with my deep, guttural grunts. I pause, both of us breathing hard.

“Now tell me.” I caress her sore ass, right where I just pounded her. “Were you touching yourself?”

“Yes,” she whispers in resignation. She speaks softly, but I hear it.

“You admit it?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you were doing, Olivia. Confess it to me.”

“I was touching myself.” She’s crying now, her voice quavering as her body shakes, so emotional, brimming over. I bring my fingers down to her clit again. She needs to be rewarded for her honesty. For doing what I told her to do.

“Now doesn’t that feel right? Telling me the truth? You always tell me the truth.”

“Yes,” she sobs, giving in.

“Good.” Her honesty pleases me so much. I remove my hand and she whimpers again. She needs me to make her feel good. But first she’s going to get some more instruction.

“I’m pleased at your confession. But you need to know, you don’t get to touch yourself unless I’m watching. Do you understand?”

“What—?”

I don’t give her time to finish her question. Whack, I bring my hand down on her inner thigh, spread open for my access. She cries out, chest heaving.

“This pussy is mine.” I smack her straight across her wetness and it makes a loud, erotic sound. “You display your pleasure for me.” Smack, I come down on it again, making sure the tips of my fingers hit her clit.

“Yes.” She cries, her breasts crushed against the countertop as she gives a shuddering sigh.

I caress her hot flesh, the pink blossoming from my hand. Stroking her lower back, I admire her perfection, her beauty. She is so innocent. Until now.

I drop my fingers once again to her pussy, dripping with need. She’s desperate to cum. But not yet. “There's one last thing I need to know before your punishment is over.”

I can see tears running down her gorgeous cheeks, but she nods to let me know she’s listening. She’ll give me what I want.

“What were you thinking about when you were touching yourself?”

She gives her head a little shake. “I can't tell you,” she whispers.

I spank her again, hard. “Naughty. That’s not a good answer.”

“I can’t. Please don't make me,” she begs.

Smack, again and again, I give my little virgin hard, reprimanding spanks. My hand grips the base of her neck in a firm hold. “Now I’m going to ask again, when you were fucking yourself with your dirty little fingers, what were you thinking about?”

I circle her dripping, swollen clit. My virgin loves her spankings.

“You.” She trembles as she admits it.

My chest rumbles in victory. I want to sink my teeth into her, feast on that hard little clit. But I need to know more first, while I have her right where I want her. “What was I doing to you, when you were fantasizing about me?”

She whimpers instead of answers. That's not what I want. Her ass was built for spanking. She has just the right amount of jiggle to her flesh, enough to grab onto, a work of art.

I bend down, looming over her, and whisper in her ear “were you picturing me spanking you?” I give her ass a smack, then pinch her clit.

She cries out, tense against me and panting. “Yes.”

“You like your spankings,” I declare with deep satisfaction.

“Knox,” she breathes out my name as if clinging to me.

“You like my hand.” I claim my victory.

“Yes, I love it,” she sobs, fully giving into tears.

“That’s it. Good girl.” I pick her up into my arms, crushing her to my chest. I should take her to the bed, but that’s a full eight strides away. A chair is right next to us, and that’s what I use to sit down, pulling her into my lap. She throws her arms around my neck, burying her face into my neck, crying and snuffling.

I stroke her back, letting her leave the T-shirt on for a little longer. But not much longer. Soon she’ll be completely naked, the way I plan on keeping her from now on.

“Good girl,” I repeat and she sobs with release. The words seem to touch her in a deep way. She likes pleasing me because she's made for me. She just doesn't know it yet. Now it’s up to me to teach her.