I licked my lower lip, worrying my tongue back and forth. “Is that something you want to do? I’m okay if it happens in the moment, since we are on the same page, but I want to know if that’s on the table before we get going…do you want to pretend like I’m forcing you to take it?”
Smith swallowed hard. “I want to pretend you know what’s best for me, no matter what that looks like.”
“I do know what’s best for you.” I crooked my finger and beckoned him closer. “At least here. At least now.”
“Yes,” he agreed, chin trembling at what I could only imagine was an unspoken honorific.
“Get on your knees.”
He went down so fast I almost missed it, all tightly coiled grace and want sinking down to the floor at my feet.
“Give me your hands,” I told him. “Fold them like you’re praying.”
He did, keeping his stare downcast.
I did a simple series of knots around his fingers, fashioning the rope into finger cuffs that would keep his hands restrained without ruining the fresh ink around his wrists. It wasn’tanywhere near the knotwork I wanted to put him into, but it would have to do.
“You call red if your fingers start to hurt or pinch in any way. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Another unspoken Sir in the air between us.
I worried hearing the word in Smith’s soft voice would be the end of me, so I didn’t bother to ask him for it. Besides, I had done nothing to earn it. This was a one-time thing, a fun end to a long night. Nothing more. Better for neither of us to get too attached to the roles or the ideas.
Pulling the tail of the rope, I coaxed Smith toward the bed. I sat down at the foot of my mattress and helped him up over my lap. I slip knotted the tail of the finger ties through a long-ignored eye bolt on the corner of my footboard, then adjusted Smith’s burning hot cock between my thighs.
“You can fuck my lap to make yourself feel good,” I told him, and in response he gave me a test thrust of his hips, a tug of the rope. A shaky whimper poured into the comforter, and I gently stroked my hand over the unblemished globes of his ass. “Just like that. There’s a good boy.”
The praise was another test and was met with a roll of Smith’s hips as he thrust his cock toward the bed.
“After I’m done spanking you, I’m going to make you come,” I assured him. “Whether you come all over my thighs first is of no consequence to me. It doesn’t change my plans. Understand?”
“Yeah,” he rasped. “Yes.”
“Okay. As long as we’re on the same page.”
With that, I lifted my hand into the air and brought it down hard. The echo of skin against skin filled the air, and then Smith whimpered, and I was the one who nearly blacked out.
CHAPTER 13
SMITH
The rope around my fingers felt a lot like having my hands held, and I closed my eyes and sank into that feeling as Riggs swatted his palm against my ass. Once, twice, three times, my hips jerking of their own accord after every point of impact.
“Your skin is gorgeous,” Riggs said, smoothing his fingers over the backs of my thighs. “But even more so once it turns pink.”
Another strike, another, another.
I pressed my forehead against his comforter and went limp in his lap. Beneath me, Riggs adjusted himself, using his thigh to heft my ass into the air before spanking me again.
“You do like it rough, don’t you, baby?” he murmured, hitting me harder than the times before. I did like it rough, and I knew once I was alone, I’d wonder if that meant something was wrong with me, but all that doubt and worry would have to wait. Pain spiked through me, wrapping around my spine and exploding through my arms and legs, and before I could fully process the sensation, he hit me again. Over and over, the same strength, the same pace. Close enough together it was nearly impossible to catch my breath until I realized I didn’t need to. The air camewhen I needed it, and it was with gasping and wet breaths I found myself flying.
Of course not literally, Riggs’s hands were against me at all times, his thighs against my chest and my waist, but I had never felt lighter, never felt more present in my body than during those moments. Riggs spanked me hard on the strip of skin between the back of my thigh and my ass, and I fucked myself aggressively against his lap. My body moved of its own accord, mindless and wanton, until the orgasm twisted up alongside the pain and caused an explosion far bigger than the one I’d caused alone in the shower.
I shot my load into the tight crevice of Riggs’s thighs, and if he noticed, he gave me no indication. Instead, he continued his work against my ass and the backs of my thighs until the skin from my knees all the way up ached from his touch. I writhed against his lap, eyes rolled back and cock still leaking like a faucet. His jeans were soaked through from my cum and the wet denim caused another rolling wave of pain with every jerk of my hips. I would have given him everything inside of me if only he’d asked for it. The way he pushed me to my limits but didn’t stop? I could have wept with happiness for it. Riggs wasn’t scared of the things I wanted, which made it so, for a moment, neither was I.
“Jesus, you’re something else,” Riggs murmured, his hand coming to rest spread across both of my ass cheeks. I sucked in my first full breath in what felt like forever, and the resulting exhale sounded a lot like a sob.
“I wish you could see yourself. Next time, I’ll make you watch in a mirror. I’ll make sure you get to see what it looks like when I take you apart for my…for your pleasure.”
