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And fucking.
I couldn’t help it. As the naughty word forced itself into my conscious mind, I clenched hard, and I pushed my bottom back into Cal’s hand. My face went hot as a flame as I realized just how transparently I had just told him what I needed, and how deeply it put me in his power.
“Good girl,” he murmured into my ear. “Such a good girl, when you set your mind to it.”
His right hand moved gently. Those two magic middle fingers pressed at the naughtiest spot, the bottom of my bottom, where the sting from his punishing hand lingered longest. With a helpless little cry, I shuffled my feet further apart, and I pushed out my backside, inviting my master’s most shameful training.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I choked out. A wave of real, actual remorse swept over me; the understanding that this strong, gorgeous man… well, that he loved me, for some reason, mixed with the bitter memory of how I had acted. “I’m sorry I ruined it.”
“Oh, no,” Cal said. “No, darlin’. You didn’t ruin it at all.”
I couldn’t help it, I turned to look at him, fearing as I did that he would start spanking me again, and even thinking if he did, he would only be doing the right thing, given my wayward behavior.
“Really?” I asked, as a surge of relief and affection—not without a crazy bit of disappointment—rose in my chest at the kind smile on his face. “Sir? Really?”
“You said what you needed to say,” Cal told me. “And you got the consequences you needed to get. For you and me, that was the right thing.”
I blinked at him, suddenly uncertain. A little thrill of hope had just lit up inside me, alongside more of the strange disappointment. It kind of sounded like Cal had decided not to paddle me.
Then he spoke more firmly, and the hope became dread.
“Go on into the bedroom and take off all your clothes, darlin’,” he said. “Stand at the side of the bed. I’m right behind you.”
Dread and… the arousal that seemed to lick its way outward from Cal’s fingers all the way over my skin and through my muscles in little tingling flames forced a whimper from my throat. Dread and so much more.
I almost said “But,” the same way I had when I had gotten halfway across the living room, but the thought of more spanking for that but before I had to undergo the terrifying paddle for the first time stopped me.
You’re learning, said the observing part of me, the watcher who felt less like a different person now than a calm center I had never known I had.
Cal stepped back, and I almost cried out in grief at the loss of his hands’ strength on my quivering limbs. I turned around, only realizing as I started to move my feet that he would get a clear view of my shaved pussy, since he had tucked up my skirt so securely around my waist.
A tremor went through my whole body as the forces of shame and need waged war inside my nervous system, my muscles, my bones. My hands and arms started to move, out of embarrassment, in a belated attempt to cover myself. I felt completely certain that Cal would punish me for covering myself, though. Even more dismayingly, sheer, irresistible heat filled my limbs at the knowledge that he would see the bare, smooth cleft into which he meant to thrust his masculine hardness. Worse, he would see the evidence that, thanks to Jake’s part in training me for my future husband’s pleasure, my private parts had been readied for his claim and to use as he liked to make his rigid penis feel good.
I didn’t want to see the expression on his face. I didn’t want to turn my eyes to his, as he took in the full frontal revelation—the confirmation of my submission, my obedient preparation for the loss of my virginity.
I couldn’t help it. I felt my forehead crease hard as I watched him look me up and down. My hands on my head as if to make clear that my body belonged to the man who had taken me in hand. My skirt raised, by him. My mortifying training panties around my knees.
My virgin pussy, shorn of its red curls, daintily and shyly showing, I knew, just a hint of its pink secrets.
As he raised his gaze to mine, the blood surged into my face. His eyes betrayed absolutely nothing for a long moment. Then he smiled, the left side of his mouth quirking up a little higher than the right.
“You’re so beautiful, darlin’,” he said. “I feel really lucky to be your suitor.”
I licked my lips, then chewed on the upper one for a moment. My skin felt like a continuous electric current was running over it, all over me, centering between my thighs but also possessing the rest of me, inflaming the rest of me, more thoroughly with every heartbeat.
“Lucky to… to be the man who…” I whispered. I blinked at him. I wanted him to say it. I didn’t know why, but suddenly it didn’t seem like enough for him to leave it at being my suitor.
Cal’s eyes narrowed, and his smile widened very slightly. He nodded, as if I had just confirmed something important. Another flash of heat came to my cheeks, because I understood what it must be. I’m a handful. I’m not going to let him leave it at the ordinary, vanilla-romantic level. I’m going to push it every time, and get my butt smacked every time.
My lips parted again, but I didn’t have any more words.
“Yes, Grace,” Cal said seriously. “I feel lucky to be the man who’s going to fuck you for the first time. You’re going to get it in your pussy, and your mouth, and your butt, after your paddling. It’s going to happen tonight. All of it.”
All of it. My eyes went wide. I had wanted him to say it. Yes, all of it—in so many words. But now I felt rebellion rising in me.
How could he just say it, like that?
I had started to breathe in ragged pants. In a flash of insight I understood the surge of resistance, how I needed to defy my suitor. The realization, though, felt unwelcome and even somehow wrong. It felt like knowing how my… well, my handful-ness worked would ruin all the fun.
