Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Spank me,” she whispers.
“Yes,” I say, squeezing her backside. “I’m going to spank you, but I won’t hurt you.”
“What fun is that?”
There is that challenge again, and I caress her shoulder blades with one hand while the other pinches her nipple, tugging it roughly. She arches forward while her backside lifts into the air, just as I expect. I immediately give her nipple another tug, moving my other hand down to her backside and over it, stopping right above her sex. I give her a slight smack there, not meant to cause any pain, just pleasure. I earn a gasp and can hear her breathing now.
“What’s your tolerance level, Faith?”
“I don’t know.”
But she does know. No one plays in this world—and leaves it—without knowing her limits. She just doesn’t want to give them to me. That answer, the knife, the lack of sexual limits. They fit a pattern that says hard limit. One night. I get nothing else, not even all of her tonight, but there is another layer to this. The layer that screams abuse. I lift her and move her to the stool, placing her hands on my knees.
“Tolerance level, Faith. I’m not—”
“I don’t know,” she hisses. “Don’t you get it? I don’t know, Nick. That’s an honest answer. I don’t know what worked for me. I don’t know what felt like too much because of who I was with and what was too much because it hit the wrong buttons for me. All I know is that I wanted this tonight. And I want you to put me back on my knees and finish what you started for once.”
There she goes. Pushing me. Challenging me, but I don’t let anyone push me. I study her, search her face, and she says, “That is as honest as I have been with anyone in a very long time, Nick. I need—”
I pull her to my lap, straddling me, my hand at her face. “I know what you need,” I say, kissing her, tasting that need, tasting what I’ve wanted to taste on her lips every time I’ve kissed her. Honesty. Hunger. Need. But it’s real now. She’s real; at least one part of her wall has crumbled. “And I’m going to give it to you.”
I stand up with her, carrying her to the couch, where I sit down next to the arm with her still on top of me, those gorgeous legs of hers spread across me. Her hands press to my shoulders, and I fill my hands with her breasts, my thumbs stroking her nipples, my head lowering, tongue lapping at one stiff peak and then the other. “Please tell me why you still have clothes on,” she whispers, sounding desperate, breathless, and I like her breathless.
“I’d be inside you already otherwise,” I say.
“What’s wrong with you being inside me?”
My hands settle at her waist. “It’s not time,” I say, my gaze raking over her body, her long blonde hair draping her shoulders, touching the tops of her high, full breasts. Her plump, tight nipples are rosy red. “On your knees beside me, and then lay across my lap, Faith.”
Chapter Eleven
Faith
I want him to spank me. I want to feel his hand on my backside. I want that sting and shock that leaves no room for anything else. No worry. No loss. No death. No guilt. And no room for the way Nick makes me feel too much. The way Nick sees too much. The way he seems to peel back layers I don’t want peeled back. The way he exposes me emotionally. I just want him to fuck me. I just want this to be what it was supposed to be. Nameless, empty sex.
I move to bend over his lap, but he catches my hips, his gaze probing mine, penetrating, and I want to look away, but I have learned that will only make him look harder, dig deeper. So I meet his stare, and I mask my emotions that I can’t even name. His eyes narrow on me, a flicker of something I also cannot name in their depths. His hands fall away from me, a silent offer of freedom and that free will he vowed to pull from me. And he has it. I want this and him. Of that, I cannot even begin to deny, nor did I intend to when I invited him here.
And so, I take that free will and settle my knees on the couch facing his legs. But nothing with Nick is just fucking, which is what I know, what I understand. He wraps his arm around my waist, tangling fingers in my hair, leading my mouth to his, and then kissing me until I think I might shatter. “I’ll warn you before I spank you,” he says. “Understand?”
“Yes,” I whisper, and just hearing him say “spank you” has my sex aching and my nipples tingling. As if he realizes this, as if he can read my mind, or perhaps just my body, he leans over and licks one of the stiff peaks, swirling it with his tongue and then sucking it deep, teeth scraping ever so slightly, the pull on my nipple like a pull on my sex.