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Not when I put my hand on her throat the other night while I was inside her. Not when I threaten to spank her. Never.
That, coupled with everything else I adore about her, tells me I was right all along—she’s it for me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Luna
Elliott scoops me up off the bed like I weigh nothing.
It’s a little heady to be with someone who can do that. I’ve never experienced it before, and I can’t speak for other women, but I love being weightless.
Even when he puts me over his lap and smacks his hand down on my ass.
It doesn’t hurt, not really, and I think after so many years of female issues I have an unusually high tolerance for pain.
For me, letting him spank me is a thrilling game where I get to be the helpless maiden and he’s the big, overbearing alpha male. I would never put up with it in any other aspect of my life, but in the bedroom? I’m already so aroused it’s not funny.
“You like sassing me, huh?” he asks in a gruff voice.
I wiggle my bottom as much as I can in this position. “Yeah, kinda.” I can’t keep the humor from my voice, and I feel more than hear the rumble of his chest as he chuckles.
Then he runs one of those big, warm hands over the curve of my ass. “I see that. You’re something else, Luna.” His voice is low, almost like he’s talking more to himself than to me, but then he rests one hand on the small of my back and slides the other beneath my skirt.
When he gets to my panties, he toys with them for a bit, caressing the fabric and slipping his fingers between my legs. He must like what he finds there because a low, edgy sound escapes him, something between a groan and a hum.
“Such a great ass,” he continues in that gritty voice I love so much. “You think you’d let me take your ass sometime?”
“We’d have to work up to that,” I reply. “You’re…way too big to jump into it.”
“Definitely not jumping into anything. Maybe I’ll put a plug in your Christmas stocking.”
Christmas.
That’s five whole months away and he’s thinking about what he’s going to put in my stocking.
“And lube,” I say, trying to keep the mood light despite the emotions starting to run roughshod through my heart.
His hand comes down unexpectedly, catching me off-guard and making me gasp.
“Oh!”
He rubs his hand over the area and then smacks it again.
“What do you think? Do these panties belong to me now?”
“If you want them to.” My voice is a little breathless.
He slides them over my hips, down to my knees, and then smacks my ass again.
I’ve never been into this before but somehow it feels right with Elliott. I like being overpowered by him. The little bit of pain he causes me. The thing is, I know he’s capable of causing me physical harm.
I also know he won’t.
And that dichotomy is so fucking hot.
Every time his hand comes down, the burning sensation morphs into something deeper. Emotional. Fulfilling. I can’t even describe the way it impacts me. As if I’ve been waiting my entire life for someone to make me feel like this.
Those magical fingers are so good at bringing both pleasure and pain, it’s slowly becoming the same thing. I can’t help but squirm, an impatient sound emerging from my lungs.
