“I’ll be good, C. I promise!”
She can’t see me smile.
“I know you will, beautiful. Because you don’t have a choice about that.” My hand comes down in slow slaps, warming her flesh, bringing the blood to the surface.
Zoe stays draped over my thighs, letting her head hang so her curls skim the floor. It’s a very pretty sight.
I start in with more force until she’s gasping and clenching.
“Don’t clench, baby.”
“I need you to touch me. Please?”
“Soon.” I massage her ass, which is warm, but not warm enough. “Relax these muscles.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispers, forcing herself to let go again.
My palm peppers her firm, round ass with enough heat to turn it deep red. She finally breaks down, pushing her ass up as she starts to cry. I slide my hand between her thighs and push two fingers into her. She’s drenched. That’s my girl.
I dip my thumb so it’s slick with her juices and then push it into her ass. She moans and spreads her thighs wider. My other hand moves beneath her, so my palm’s against her clit and my fingers cup her pussy, scissoring around the fingers that are inside her. I have everything between her legs in my power now, and all it takes is a small amount of movement from my hands to make her come.
She squirms, and it’s sweet torture. During the spanking, she was pressing against my cock, and now the writhing of her hips against me starts to feel too much like fucking her through my clothes.
I let her orgasm play out as long as I can, then pull my hands away.
“Get on the bed on your hands and knees.”
She crawls the short distance over the rug to the bed. I don’t know if that’s intentionally provocative or just instinctive. Whatever the reason, the fire in my groin burns hotter, which hardly seems possible.
I strip without hesitation and get on the bed with her. She’s rested her right temple on her hands, and her ass is in the air with her knees spread. This submissive position is one she knows well, and one that looks exceptionally good on her, especially with her ass still red and swollen from my heavy-handed treatment of it.
I bury my cock inside her pussy in one hard thrust. She moans and presses back against me. My fingers grip her hips and anchor her in place.
Then it’s twenty solid minutes of using her hard until she’s whimpering and arching her back and whispering unintelligible things.
When the orgasm finally rips through me, it’s worthy of the effort. Coming always feels good, but it only feelsthis goodwith her.
Chapter
Seventeen
ZOE
I’m sated and sleepy. It’s so nice to be in Connor’s arms again after the best sex I’ve had since we were last together. Everything feels perfect until he starts to interrogate me, albeit gently, about what I’ve figured out over the past five weeks. The truth is, so far, nothing.
I left C because I felt like he didn’t love me enough to propose, and because constantly thinking about that made me emotional in ways I didn’t like.
We were fighting more, and I had a harder and harder time controlling myself during those arguments. My frustration kept boiling over, and Connor is not someone who allows people to yell at him. He would warn me to calm down, but, in the heat of the moment, I couldn’t. So he would take charge.
The emotional release of a punishment actually made me feel better. And the way he handled me afterward made me feel loved. But the next time I had to hear about a friend’s wedding dress or wedding plans, all the pain and frustration wouldbubble back up. I would melt down outwardly, or inwardly, or both.
I was in the midst of trying to become a badass businesswoman in New York, and the emotional turmoil at home wasn’t helping me gain a successful mindset. Since I couldn’t overcome my feelings while living with Connor, I moved out.
But after I left him, loneliness and doubt plagued my mind, too. When I tried dating, it was even worse. No one could hold a candle to the man I’d given up. None of them ever made me feel as special as he does.
I tell myself I need to be patient. If I give it time, I’ll get over my heartbreak and eventually find someone who’s as right for me as he was.
I’m afraid though that the way I miss being tossed over his lap and his shoulder and into his bed will never go away. The routine I had while living with him is something I miss every day. Cooking, dancing, talking to him about my plans, making love with him… I miss all of it.
