I float in a warm haze. I don't realize he stopped spanking me until he strokes my labia again and a different sensation sings through me. His skilled fingers dance over my intimate parts, finding my clit and painting it with my own wetness. This is so different to when I touch myself, or the few fumbling attempts my ex made. With Logan, if my clit was in Kansas, his finger would be at the North or South Pole.
“You did good for me, taking your punishment.” He takes one of my lower lips between his thumb and forefinger, and rubs. “Now it's time for your reward.” I'm restless, shifting on his legs again. He clamps his limbs down and holds me so that I can’t slide away. Unable to move, I’m forced to focus on the feelings. He tickles my clit and circles it, rubbing at the itchiest spots, making the neediness build in my limbs until a little golden pulse flares through me and satisfaction floods my core. My lips part and my breath comes in a rush. The first pulse is followed by another, and another. And all the while, Joel rubs my back, murmuring, “Good girl.”
I’m wobbly when he pulls off my underwear and jeans and eases me back up. My face is flushed from being upside down. My hair is a lost cause.
“Whoa,” I breathe, and his eyes crinkle.
He holds my gaze as he licks his fingers. I’m too blissed out to feel embarrassed.
“There's another reason I came up here tonight,” I tell him. He’s clothed, and I’m naked from my hips down. Not quite my fantasy, but we’re a quarter of the way there.
He inclines his head, the flinty spark in his Arctic gaze warning me to tell him the whole truth. My bottom throbs.
“I wanted to give you a gift.” I pause but he doesn’t guess what I wanted to give him. I’ll have to spell it out. Problem is, I don't think I can say it out loud.
I grab the hem of my sweater and pull it over my head. It drops to the floor. I wait, wearing nothing but my blush-pink bra.Please, please, get what I’m trying to tell you.
Understanding lights his eyes. He grips my hips and pulls me closer to him. “This is what you want?” There's a rough edge to his voice. Underneath my burning bottom, his dick surges.
“Actually,” I say, “it's more like a gift you could give me. Because…” the word sticks in my throat, “I’ve never done it before.”
His eyes flare, then narrow. “Lainey… are you telling me you're a virgin?”
I bob my head up and down, and remember to use my words. “Yes.”
“Holy hell.” His hands fall away from me, shocking my skin with a sudden rush of cold.
CHAPTER 5
Joel
Lainey sits on my lap,her bare skin glowing in the firelight. She looks like an angel, an apparition, an emissary from heaven come to bless the faithful. Except I’d be the last person an angel would visit.
And yet here she is, midnight eyes and hair, unwrapped in my lap like a gift.
She came up here to seduce me.
I can’t move. I can’t speak. I can’t think.
After a moment, she shivers and wraps her arms around herself. Her chin drops. “Please don’t say no.”
I gather her to me immediately, sliding my arms around her. “No. No. I’d never say no to you.” She collapses against me and I encourage her to, pulling her chest flush to mine and stroking her hair. “I don’t think I'm capable of it.”
She shudders, and I feel the emotions filling her to the brim. She’s been through a lot in the last hour. I keep her cradled against me for a while, stroking my hand up and down her back. Eventually, I can’t resist rubbing her bottom, exploring themarks I left on her, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She relaxes further.
I glide my hand over her body, finding my way to the seam between her legs. I shift her in my lap, easing her thighs apart and soothing them until they relax and fall open.
The scent of her arousal rises, and I grit my teeth so I don’t come in my pants. I haven’t had to fight an orgasm like this since I was a teen, and even then I didn’t have to fight this hard. Lainey destroys my control.
“You’re going to give me this,” I cup my palm over her sweet pussy, “for Christmas?” She’s hot and pulsing and oh so wet in my hand. My rough, tattooed hand. The contrast of her perfection against my ugly flesh should make me want to look away. Instead, it gets me hotter. “This most perfect gift… for me?”
She squirms but her lashes lift and she looks squarely at me. “Yes. I want you…” her voice wobbles and she musters more strength, “I want you to have it. To have me.”
I wait for her to change her mind.She’s not drunk. She’s alone but she drove up here. For me. She hasn’t said no. She took off her shirt.
And as I stare, her chin lifts another inch.
She wants this.
