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He pushes my calves down until my feet hang over the edge of the couch, and he runs his hand up and down the back of my thigh. I don’t expect the next smack. I yelp.
He presses his palm against the stinging flesh. “Tell me if it’s too much, or you don’t like it, and I’ll stop.”
I meet his heated gaze. The look on his face is heady, addicting. “I can take it.”
“Fuck, Princess.” He takes my chin in his palm and kisses me roughly, then lightly sucks my bottom lip. “You’re so perfect for me.”
I nod. “Just for you.”
“I won’t stop until you ask, or you’re coming all over my fingers, whichever comes first.”
“Yes, please.”
Two swift slaps follow.
I suck in a gasp and then moan when his hand slips between my thighs and his fingers graze my clit. “So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs.
I groan when his hand disappears from between my thighs and shriek when he slaps my ass. And then his fingers are between my thighs again. I push against them, wanting more. But they’re gone, and his hand smooths over my ass. I rest my cheek on my arm and watch his face. His smile darkens as he raises his hand and brings it down. Hard. My gasp turns into a moan as his fingers fill me again, fucking me.
“So perfect.” Hollis settles his other hand on my low back to keep me still as he fucks me with his fingers. This time he doesn’t remove them when he spanks me.
The rough feel of his pants over his thighs rubs against my skin. Every brush puts me into sensory overload. All I can think about is him. Every press of his palm feels like he’s molding me into something beautiful and ready to shatter.
I’m so close—right on the edge and he knows it. He massages my clit, then adds another finger, stretching me, and then I’m falling, flying as the orgasm rushes through me.
“That’s it, chase it.” Hollis murmurs words of praise and encouragement as I quake and shudder.
Panting and sweaty, I melt into the couch, fighting to catch my breath.
Hollis brushes my hair out of my face. “Aurora? You okay?”
“So…” I bite my lip. “It’s safe to say I’m a fan of the spanky finger-fuck.”
He chuckles and rearranges me so I’m straddling his lap. “Me too.” He adjusts my tiara. “Now let me be sweet to you.” He gently grips the back of my thighs and pushes to a stand.
I grab his shoulders and wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to his bedroom.
As he lays me out on the comforter, I look around the space. Electric candles flicker all over the room, and the bed is covered in yellow rose petals.
“Hollis, this is incredible.”
“Just like you.”
I rub one of the delicate petals between my fingers as he strips out of his clothes and stretches out next to me. “You didn’t need to do all this.”
“Of course I did. It’s your birthday, and you deserve to be treated like the princess you are.” He kisses me reverently, then peels me out of my bra and panties. He kisses his way down my body and brings me to orgasm with his mouth before he settles between my thighs.
“I waited all day to be able to touch you like this,” he whispers against my lips as he fills me.
“Me, too. I ached to be close to you tonight,” I admit.
He makes love to me, sweetly, gently—tipping me over the edge into bliss again and again until we’re both delirious with exhaustion. I want to stay the night, to sleep in his arms, but my mom is notorious for being an early riser, so I sneak back to my dad’s at five thirty-two in the morning.
I carefully close the door and flip the safety latch. And then nearly die of heart palpitations when I reach the kitchen and my mom is sitting at the island with a mug of tea.
“Holy shitballs, Mom, you scared the crap out of me.”
She’s wearing a nightshirt that reads NAMASTE in bed.
