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And I find that I surprise myself by how much I want to know this woman, not just fuck her.
“The pants don’t come off with the shoes on,” I tell her, and by the time I’ve removed the second shoe, she’s standing in front of me, every creamy white, naked inch of her. She grabs it and tosses it.
“Now the pants,” she orders, making it clear that she’s no submissive, that she can hold her own, and I fucking love it. “Or the shirt.”
I reach for her hips and walk her between my legs. “You’ve distracted me,” I tell her, my lips brushing her belly, my tongue drawing a circle. She trembles beneath my mouth, and I glance up at her. “You’re owned when you can think of nothing but the person you’re with. Nothing but what they might do to you now, and in the next moment.” I twine the string at her hips in my fingers. “Or where they might lick, kiss, or touch.” I drag her panties down her legs and then lower my mouth to her sex, where I let my breath tease her. “Tell me to lick you,” I order.
Her fingers curl around the material over my shoulders. “No.”
I bite my bottom lip and shake my head. “That’s too bad, because I really wanted to know how you taste.” I nip her hip and when she gives a surprised yelp I lave the wound with my tongue, glancing up at her. “Do you want me to—?”
“Yes.”
“Say it, Lori.”
“Lick me, you asshole.”
I laugh. “Asshole?”
“You’re teasing me.”
“I’m just being sure I know what you want. You want me to lick you. I just want to know where.”
“I’m not saying what you want me to say.”
She also isn’t thinking about whatever it was that made her need this escape. I don’t own her yet this night, but we’re getting there. And so, I push harder. “Too much of a lady, are you? I could fix that, if I had at least one more night, but since I don’t—” I lick her clit.
She sucks in air and stabs fingers into my hair and holds on. I smile and lick her again, suckling her into my mouth, my fingers sliding through the wet heat of her body, but I’m not going to let her come. Not yet. I kiss her belly, and she pulls at my shirt. I wrap my arms around her backside and drag her into my lap. By the time she’s straddling me, we’re already kissing again, but she hasn’t given up on my shirt. “Take it off,” she orders, unhooking two of the buttons.
At this point, I’m all about having her body pressed to mine, and I reach behind me, and pull it over my head, tossing it behind us. A moment later, I’m molding her close, my hand wide between her shoulder blades, the other on her breast while my mouth suckles and licks at her nipple. She arches into my mouth, and I hold her, but I still don’t own her. I still don’t have her where I want her, where she wants to be.
I tangle fingers into her hair, drag her gaze to mine. “I want to spank you.”
She stiffens and presses her hands to my shoulders. “What?”
I know from her reaction this is new to her, terrifying to her. “It’s pleasure. It’s not pain, but it’s the ultimate escape. Nothing else exists. Trust me, sweetheart, it’s not a beating. It’s erotic. It’s sexy. It good.”
“I can’t even believe I’m having this conversation.”
I caress her breast, my thumb stroking her cheek, my lips brushing her lips. “We don’t have to do this,” I say my mouth next to hers. “But I promise you, we will both be so hot and so ready to fuck when it’s done that we will be all over each other.”
“I can’t believe I’m actually considering this.”
I pull back to look at her. “Say yes,” I urge. “You won’t be sorry.”
Chapter seven
Lori
My heart is racing and I am both aroused and terrified. A spanking? Why am I even considering this? Why? It’s impossible that I would and yet, I am. I really am, but it’s crazy. “I don’t know you,” I whisper. “I can’t—”
“You can,” he says, cupping my head, and sliding his cheek to mine, as if he feels my need for this tiny moment of visual privacy. “It will be good,” he whispers by my ear, his breath a warm tease on my neck. “So damn good, sweetheart.”
“Says the man giving the spanking. Says the one—”
“In control?” he asks, pulling back to look at me. “No. I’m not in control. You are. You decide if I do this. You decide if you want that kind of escape.”
“I’m not into pain. I’m sorry, but—”
