Page 82 of Graciously His

“Now,” I straighten up, noting how the blankets are tucked up under her chin, “have you decided if I get to make you feel good, Grace?”

She glances to the side and shrugs, refusing to answer. I put a knee on the bed, then a hand, giving her plenty of time to scoot away. She stays put, even when I’m almost on top of her.

“Because, to me, you look like a girl who doesn’t want to make a decision. And we both know,” I plant my knees beside her hips, straddling her, “I can decide for you. Shall I do that?”

She gazes up at me with wide eyes. “Yes, please.”

I savour the words for a moment, then continue. “Here’s what’ll happen. I’m going to take these blankets off you, then I’m going to strip you bare. After that, I’ll make you come—hard. Maybe until you pass out. I’ll keep going until you’re dreaming of me touching you, forcing you to come over and over. All because you are my perfect,” I lean in, kissing her neck, “gracious wife.”

Her chest heaves beneath the blankets and I start there, easing the covers down. I take my time, slowly revealing her fully clothed torso, her hands clasping the hem of her shirt, trying to hide her soaked slit. She’s blushing, but she’s not pulling away.

“Still so wet. Were you lying here remembering how good it felt to be spanked by your husband?” I move the blankets aside fully. “Maybe next time we’ll go even further. Maybe next time I’ll use my belt.”

“No!”

I allow myself a dark chuckle. “No spanking you with my belt, or no next time at all?”

She just shakes her head. I smile, pleased that her executive functioning isn’t online yet.

“I think I’ll have to decide for you when the time comes. For now, let’s get you out of these clothes so I can make sure you loved your apology as much as I did.”

Denial twists her features, but I ignore it, pulling her shirt off to reveal the camisole underneath. I leave it on, inspiration lighting my mind. She's not wearing a bra and her jeans and underwear are long gone. Now that she’s naked except for the camisole, I notice her shrinking in on herself.

Cute.

“Still so shy, even after all this time,” I murmur. “Let me see you, now. Come on, little heart.”

I coax her legs open. Grace covers her eyes with her hands as I examine her. Pursing my lips, I lean in to blow on her exposed flesh, on the wetness still trickling. She moans, an unhappy sound.

“Cold,” she whispers, her knees coming up.

I duck to the side to adjust the thermostat by the bed, turning it all the way up. “It’ll be warmer very soon.”

I retake my position between her legs and, meeting her eyes, run my fingers along her pussy. When she moans, I gather the slickness onto my fingers then bring it to her breast, smearing the white camisole. The fabric goes translucent, revealing Grace’s taut pink nipple. Her chest rises and falls as I do the same to the other side, using her own juices to reveal the tip of her breast. Then, with a deviant glance into her eyes, I lean forward to press my tongue to the wetness I’ve transferred, sucking the fabric and her nipple into my mouth. It tastes like her pussy, and I move to the other breast despite a whine from Grace.

“Nate, that—that’s a lot. The fabric and—and your tongue.”

“Poor little love.” I sit back, staring at how the dampened fabric reveals her breasts, how the cold is still making her shiver. Unable to help myself, I pull the camisole off, then I take one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking hard.

She writhes. “God, that’s—”

“A lot,” I growl, “I know, Grace. Lie down and let me have you.”

My cock weeps as she obeys, laying herself out for me. I slide down her body, admiring how pliant she’s become.

“Wh-what will you do next?” she whispers.

“Next, I’m going to take all this tension I’ve worked into you here,” I slide a hand underneath her to cup her sore ass cheek in one hand, “and I’m going to turn it to pure fucking pleasure—here.” I deliver a sharp tap to her cunt.

“No,” she gasps, “don’t hit me there!”

I grin, knowing I’ve found a tool to add to my growing arsenal.

“Why not?” I press my fingers flat against her, rubbing her clit obliquely, just the way she likes. “Afraid you’ll like it too much?”

Her jaw tenses as I pull back and tap her again, this time directly over her clit. Her legs fall open.

“Oh, yes,” I whisper, looking at her. Beneath the little thatch of hair, her pussy lips are reddish-purple, her clit peeking at me from beneath its hood. “This right here is what I want.”