Despite the instant bloom of heat between my thighs, I place my finger in the middle of his pillowy lips and raise a brow. ‘Feral,’ I whisper.
‘Just how you like me.’ Laughing, he pushes me upright, eyes gleaming with delight. ‘Now, why the frown?’
Seems he’s familiar with the art of distraction, too. And there’s no point playing it cool, not that I’ve managed it so far. I’m pretty sure I have matching pairs in the red cheeks department to support this fact.
‘You have... regrets.’ His eyes become almost guarded, voice tentative.
‘I hadn’t quite got that far in my thinking. My thoughts were more...’—carnal—‘abstract. I was thinking about your hair.’ His expression is unconvinced as I blunder on. ‘I mean, just look at you, lying in my bed like the star of my very best wet dream, and here I amwith hair like a chook’s bum.’ I run a hand through my knotted locks, not thinking about being spanked. I’m not. And thinking about not thinking about itsodoesn’t count.
‘Wet dream?’ His face relaxes into a sly smile. ‘This I’ve got to hear more about, but in plain English, please. What the hell’s a chook?’
‘Dreams aren’t real andare entirely private. And a chook is a chicken, and yes I did say my head looks like the rear end of a fowl. Meanwhile, you look like...’ I wave my hand above his chest. ‘... a playgirl centrefold!’
I really need to learn to self-edit before release.
Pulling me down against him, his chest rumbles against my own.
‘If only you could see yourself, all sleep warmed and sexy. I don’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful. Except maybe last night, bent over and bound. Flushed pink... and red...and wearing those ridiculous socks.’
Heat blooms through my insides despite images of wicked witch socks filtering through my head. Unfortunately, the cogs in my brain jump from socks to spankings and the confusion that brings.
‘Relax,’ he breathes, pulling me closer. ‘Are you going to tell me how you really feel or do we have to dance around this some more?
‘Confused,’ I mumble against his chest.
‘Good confused, or get out of my bed you freak, confused?’
‘Like anyone would kick you out of bed.’ I bury further into him, avoiding his eyes.
‘You’d be surprised, husbands can be quite compelling,’ he murmurs almost as though he’s talking to himself.
‘Al-righty! Over-sharing—I think I’ll go make coffee!’ I wince as my bottom chaffs on the edge of the mattress, but don’t get far as his hands grasp my waist, pulling me backwards against him.
‘Don’t go. I need to know.’
I can’t keep pretending last night didn’t happen, as much as I might like to. I take a deep breath, turn and truly look at him.
‘I’m pretty much still processing,’ I say quietly. ‘But essentially okay.’
‘You fell asleep in my arms. I guess you mustn’t think me as kinky as all fuck.’
‘My sphere of reference for kinky is leaving on the lights,’ I mumble as his fingers lift my chin.
‘Don’t be glib, Kate. Thank you for trusting me.’
‘I didn’t realise I had a choice.’ My eyes glide from his as the sheet rustles. He sits, pulling me back against his chest.
‘Of course you did,’ he answers, twirling a lock of my hair. ‘I’ll agree there was an element of... subterfugeto begin with, but if you hadn’t enjoyed, I wouldn’t have gone so far.’ My head moves with his chest as he exhales. ‘You made all the right noises. Didn’t saykhallas.’
My mind returns to last night. I didn’t ask him to stop, not really, or say... whatever I was supposed to. I felt debased, used. Yet I cried tears of bliss along with those of disgrace. There’s no denying, or understanding, in that for me right now.
He pulls us down against the mattress and we lay together, face to face, each trying to divine the others thoughts.
‘What’skhallas?’ I eventually whisper.
‘Stop. Enough. Didn’t you know?’ His fingers tighten on mine as I shake my head. ‘Look, I’ll admit I didn’t handle the situation well. I was very angry and a little drunk. But last night was so much more than I expected. Exquisitely so. It became more about your reactions, more sensual than any punishment.’
‘You wanted to punish me?’ I whisper, horrified at his admission.
