Page 56 of His to Own

It’s one I would only feel whenever I read romance novels. The tingling sensation between my legs.

I remember touching myself once only to feel… nothing. My own hand didn’t compare to my imagination so I stopped and never tried again. But right now, I want to feel Maxim’s hand on my body again.

“Do you feel arousal, Elena?” he whispers.

I gasp as the heat between my legs spreads throughout my whole body. How is any of this possible?

“Answer me,” he demands.

“Yes.” The moment the word slips out, I feel more free. More relaxed. What is Maxim doing to me? Under a spell again.

“That confuses you, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” I gasp out.

“Do you want me to make you feel better? Just say the word and I will.”

I’m afraid of how Maxim will make me feel better but I know in my gut that I want to feel it. I need to feel it.

“Yes,” I answer. It’s all I can say.

Maxim parts my legs and places his fingers right over my most intimate area. They brush against my sensitive nub and I gasp, raising my hips back on instinct. I press my face into the mattress to hide my shame. Am I really letting Maxim touch me after he spanked me? None of this makes sense. All I know is what I feel and I want to feel this.

Maxim doesn’t say a word as he rubs his fingers over my nub and folds. My hips roll against his hand. Pleasure spikes throughout my body. It’s addicting, this feeling. Maxim’s hand is so much better than my own. His touch lights me on fire while my own touch felt like a cold, dead fish.

A small whimper leaves my lips. I can sense Maxim’s amusement even though I can’t see his face. He likes doing this to me and I like him doing it to me.

He finds that perfect pleasure spot and rubs it over and over again. My hips have a mind of their own as they buck into his hand. It all feels too good to stop. My fingers grip the blanket underneath me as if that can somehow save me from Maxim’s touch. From Maxim himself. But nothing can save me from him. Nothing can save me from this pleasure he’s showing me.

He was right about earlier. I should have read my poem. I would have felt proud of myself for it instead of this shame creeping up my neck. I should have been brave.

I should have fought for what I wanted.

Instead, I let my anxiety take over and consume me. I needed Maxim to spank me. I needed the punishment. And now he’s rewarding me.

It’s all so confusing and exciting and terrifying. My brain doesn’t know how to process any of it.

All I know is that the pleasure he is showing my body is something I never want to end.

He flicks my nub faster and harder. A loud whimper escapes my mouth. Still, Maxim doesn’t say a word. He only pleasures me with his fingers, not showing my body any sort of mercy.

“Please,” I finally gasp out.

He increases his pace. His fingers are relentless on my nub. The moment it dawns on me that I am letting Maxim pleasure me with his hand is the moment the sudden rush of warmth and pleasure overtakes my body.

An orgasm. I’ve read all about it but I’ve never had one before.

My hips roll into his hand and I gasp and focus on breathing or I might pass out again, though this time not out of fear but from the pleasure of it all.

Maxim lets his hand linger there a moment before he pulls it away. “Next time,” he says, finally speaking, “you’ll read one of your poems.”

I shiver when he leaves me on the bed, half naked, and all alone.

Chapter Eight

Elena

Istruggle to look Maxim in the eye over the breakfast table. He smirks as he reads something on his phone like he knows I’m thinking about what he did to me last night.