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“Yes, Beck.”

“Count after each one, and do not come no matter what. Hold on to Quinn if you need to.”

“Yes, Beck.”

I press one hand between his shoulder blades to steady him, but that’s all the warning I give. I spank his left cheek with enough force that the skin pinkens quickly under the strike.

“One!” he cries out.

I grip the globe of one cheek then the other, teasing him like I’m going to spank him but then don’t. I wait until his body is relaxed before I strike again. The smack of skin on skin echoes through the room, and I swat the other cheek twice in a row, hardly giving him time to call out his counts.

I spank him a fifth time, this one hard enough that he grips Quinn tightly, the muscles of his back and shoulders tensing when he yells.

I pause, admiring his beautiful red ass. I gently brush the pads of my fingers over the abused skin, stroking my other hand down his back.

Quinn’s focus is still on Noah. One of her arms is placed in front of him, and he’s holding on to it tightly. Her other hand is still on the back of his head, but now, she grips his hair instead of soothing it, adding to the sensations he’s already feeling in his body.

My cock thickens at the vision she makes, her features set and strong, the blush of her cheeks a deeper pink now. The more time I get to spend with this incredible woman, the more I’m starting to understand her and her relationship with Noah.

The reason they weren’t connecting didn’t only have to do with his workaholic perfectionism—it’s a big part of it, but it’s not all of it. When she said Noah doesn’t see her, she didn’t mean just physically, whether she consciously knew that or not. It goes far deeper than that. She’s been hiding the parts of her I don’t think she even knew she had or could express.

And it’s not only her, either.

Noah has kept his submissive tendencies from her. She’s never seen the part of him that craves a firm hand, discipline, and pain in a safe and contained environment, one that won’t hurt him in the long term like his stupid need to kill himself at the gym—something I thought he’d stopped doing but obviously picked up again.

I dig my nails into his skin, and Noah hisses. “Check in,” I demand.

“Green,” he says easily, his voice husky and lower than usual.

“Quinn?”

She looks up at me, desire burning in her eyes. “Green.”

I caress the back of my hand over Noah’s ruddy ass cheeks. “You like watching your husband get spanked?”

“I do.”

“Are you wet?

Noah whimpers low in his throat, and Quinn’s nostrils flare. “Very.”

“Did you hear that, Noah?”

“Yes, Beck.”

“I think we should continue to show your wife how much of a pain slut you are, don’t you?”

“Yes, Beck.”

Quinn shifts on the couch, her arousal evident, her nipples poking through the fabric of her dress. It’s slightly difficult with the position we’re in, but I maneuver us so I can whisper a question in Noah’s ear. When he gives me permission, I right myself, adjusting him over my lap again.

“Do you want to know something?” I ask Quinn while caressing Noah’s ass methodically.

“What is it?”

“Noah has something he’s been hiding from you.”

“Has he?”