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  “Turn around,” he said softly, making my already-weak knees quiver.

  I obeyed. He unzipped my dress, letting it drop to the floor, then helped me step out of the coral-colored puddle of satin. He nodded at my feet and I slipped out of my high heels. Without them, he was a full head taller than me. I felt small and feminine, standing in front of him in nothing but a filmy pink slip. The hunger in his eyes was so powerful it was hard to hold his gaze, but I was so fascinated by the new side of him, I couldn’t possibly look away, either. And I really didn’t want to. A glorious sense of freedom flowed through me. Freedom from decision and concern, freedom from the demands of responsible adulthood. I had no obligation in the scenario, no burden of making choices or controlling the outcome. I had only to follow Geoff’s lead, to relinquish my will to his and let him decide my fate moment by moment. For someone who’d grown up way too fast, it was ineffably relieving and I felt, for the first time in my life, as though I’d put down my weapons and shield completely—and that someone still loved me in my weakest and most vulnerable state.

  He sat down on the couch and made a “come here” gesture with his index finger. Leaning down, I settled over his knees. The muscles of his thighs tensed against my stomach, reminding me again of the iron ruggedness beneath his affectionate, mild-mannered surface—and of the fragile need hidden beneath my own strong exterior. For a long moment, neither of us moved. Anticipation coiled deep in my core and I wondered what Geoff was thinking. Did the same combination of excitement and nervousness race through his blood and make his heart pound? How did he feel when he stared down at me, my body and dignity offered to him like a sacrifice? Was he focused, guy-like, on the view of my ass? Or did that deeper part of him feel the electricity in the air? I glanced at him over my shoulder and he rubbed my back and smiled at me, a full, genuine smile that made my heart flip over. Then he shifted one knee so that my ass was suddenly raised and available to his every whim and desire. My legs drifted apart, allowing him access to all my secrets, and he traced his fingers down my spine and over the curve of my hips, then ran them over the backs of my thighs. I shivered again, and goose bumps rose all across my body. He raised his hand and I braced myself for the first stroke, wondering if it would be all I’d built it up to be, wondering how it would feel, how I’d react, how I’d feel changed. When it came, it was barely a tap, but the surrender it represented was more powerful than I’d expected and a long shudder of release rippled through me. He cupped my right cheek and squeezed, then repeated the maneuver on my left. Then he rubbed the back of my thighs again and my clit began to swell.

  “Gabby, sweetheart, just relax.” His voice was warm and mellow and his hand seemed to caress me all the way to the heart. I met his eyes and he nodded reassuringly. “Relax,” he said again.

  His fingers dipped between my legs and feathered across my pussy, drawing a deep, abandoned moan from my chest. I gave up trying to watch him and laid my head on the soft cushions of the couch. I’d wanted this, after all. He withdrew his hand slowly and brought it down on my ass again, just the tiniest bit harder than before, then caressed me with that same firm, but loving touch. The cool silk of my slip slid across my skin, teasing my nerve endings into high alert and preparing me for the next swat. It landed on my upturned cheeks with the merest hint of a tingle, but the sensation sparked through my entire body, setting off tiny waves of interest along the way and teasing my clit into a slow, wanting throb. He delivered stroke after measured stroke until I lost count. Each tingled a bit more than the last, warming my desire to a gradual simmer and each freed me a little bit more until I seemed to float completely unfettered in an alternate world of his making, where only the physical mattered and I could focus exclusively on the shimmering waves of pleasure that rippled through me every time his hand connected with my ass. It was hardly the spanking I’d envisioned, but it was more than I could have asked for. I melted into him, enjoying the pressure of his other hand on my back, reveling in the freedom of being completely at his mercy. After long minutes of lazy, heady bliss, he slipped his hand between my legs again.

  “You’re getting so wet,” he said. “That’s good. I want you wet. I want you to enjoy every second of this experience. I want you to be so aroused by the time we’re finished that all I have to do is touch you to make you come.”

  I moaned again and my eyes drifted shut as he ran his hand down my thigh, all the way to the sensitive skin on the back of my knee. His touch was tender, featherlight, an intoxicating contrast to the firmness of his spanks and I shivered, eager for his next move. With the next stroke came the first real hint of sting, not a lot, but enough to shoot a hot tentacle of desire up my spine. My pussy tightened and my nipples pebbled and I moaned his name in a voice so heavy with need I turned myself on.

  The next smarted a bit more, like a thousand tiny pinpricks of mingled pleasure and pain, and he held at that level, delivering several slow slaps that left both my ass and my pussy warm and buzzing. I rocked my hips against his lap, half-drunk on the rhythm of his strokes, the sting of his palm against my silk-clad ass a powerful drug that delighted as it punished and comforted as it excited. I rocked again, anticipating the next dose of his highly effective medicine, but it never came. I tried to look back at him, but found myself pinned down, unable to do more than turn my head. I’d been so focused on the tingle in my ass and the throb in my clit that I’d hardly noticed the way he’d slid his free hand up my spine to rest between my shoulder blades, or the way he’d increased the pressure until I could hardly move from the waist up. My body tensed instinctively, then I relaxed, giving in to the lack of control, and tilted my hips, begging him without words to continue, to take us wherever he wanted to go.

  Without warning, he delivered a series of slaps so sharp they made me gasp and so fast in succession I couldn’t catch my breath in between. Just as suddenly, he stopped and rubbed the soft silk stretched across my bottom. The friction was divine torture and I never wanted it to stop.

  “How does it feel?” he asked, tension throbbing beneath his usual mellow tone.

  “Intense.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  Another sharp spank left my legs quivering and my clit almost desperate for release. As though he could read my mind, he ran his hand between my thighs, slipping his fingers into my folds and glancing across my clit. Electricity shot through my core and I cried out, so close to the edge I could hardly stand it. If he’d just twitch those magic fingers against my clit a couple of times more, I’d come in a burst of orgasmic elation and I just knew it would be powerful, consuming. I tried to force my throbbing core onto his fingers, but he just laughed softly and withdrew his hand, running it up and down my thigh with maddening deliberation.

  “You have the best ass I’ve ever seen. So perfect and round and smooth. Let’s see how we’re coming,” he murmured, pushing the thin fabric of my slip up over my hips. Cool air met my skin and I realized for the first time how hot it had grown beneath the force of Geoff’s hand. He groaned and hardened beneath me. “God you’re beautiful when you blush.”

  He leaned down to kiss my bottom and I almost lost my mind. The sweet reverence in his touch tugged at my heart, but the brush of his lips against my heated skin only increased the agony in my clit. The granite bulge of his cock pressed against my stomach, tantalizingly close and so ready to fill me.

  “I can’t believe how wet you are,” he said. “If I’d known what it would do to you, I’d have campaigned to spank your ass a long time ago. I can’t wait to put my cock in you later. You’re going to be so ready and it’s going to feel so good.”

  “Fuck me now,” I begged, hardly aware I’d said the words out loud.

  “Is that what you want?” He feathered his fingers across my ass, sending pinpricks of need into every pore.

  “Yes, please. Put your cock deep inside me and own me.”

  “I could.” He slipped his hand between my thighs again, teasing once more, with
out offering release. “But then it would be over.”

  “What?”

  “Your spanking. It would be over. Are you ready to be done?”

  Oh God, was I? I’d thought about it so many times, fantasized it in so many ways. Yes, the reality was far more erotic and powerful than I ever could have imagined, but he’d really barely begun. The sting had already started to fade and the heat was quickly cooling. Of course, we could always do it again sometime, now that we knew it was an option, but some part of me wanted to take it all the way, wanted to see how close to the brink I could go. If coming now would be divine release, what would it be like if we kept going, pushed the intensity level higher? How much wetter would I get and how much harder would he be? How much stronger would the connection between us grow?

  “Gabby, do you want me to stop now and fuck you?”

  “I…no.”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and shame pricked at the insides of my lids. I’d made peace with the emotional component of the fantasy, but I still didn’t understand why the physical reaction was so arousing and something about saying the actual words tested my courage like nothing else we’d done. As though verbalizing my desires would make them more active, more real, than sneaking a pair of panties into his pocket when he wasn’t looking and then just waiting for him to take the lead. Much as I wanted everything that would follow—the sense of freedom, the increased intimacy, the physical sensation—it was so hard to admit. When I finally succeeded, my voice trembled and the words trailed into a barely audible whisper.

  “I-I want you to spank me.”

  He rubbed the curve of my bottom gently, as though to reassure me that I was safe and adored. And then he pulled back and delivered another sharp slap. The sound registered first, raw and arousing. A half-second later, I felt the impact, a prickling burn that spread across my naked rear like wildfire, licking down the sensitive skin of my inner thighs and reaching toward my core with purpose and intent.

  “Like that?” he asked softly, caressing my cheeks again.

  “Oh yes,” I moaned, overcome by pure, sparkling sensation.

  He did it again and I bucked against him, my clit pounding like a heartbeat and my heart fluttering into overdrive.

  “This is what you want me to do?”

  “God yes!”

  My whole body jerked in response to the next biting blow, but the moment his hand left me, I wanted another.

  “Then say it again. Without fear. Like you mean it.”

  Sparks of electricity from the last sharp slap danced across my skin, begging me to let go completely. I hesitated, but the urge was too strong to fight and, with a tiny half-sob, I surrendered fully to him—and to my own desires.

  “Spank me.”

  Before the words were out of my mouth, his hand descended, stinging my rear over and over and over again until my ears rang and my mind went blank and I writhed in his lap, completely out of control and no longer concerned with embarrassment or fear. I didn’t need to know why anymore. It was enough that, when his hand connected with my ass, the sound turned my nipples hard and wanting and the mild pain turned my whole body to liquid heat. By the time he paused again, my chest was heaving, my entire bottom burned and every inch of my body blazed with an arousal so primal and intense I felt like I might burst into flame any moment. And yet, still, I wanted. Just a bit more. Just another tiny shove.

  After a long, long moment that only served to let me process every tingle and throb, his hand came down with a resounding smack that shot piercing fire all the way to my toes and branded me forever as belonging to him. The last time he’d slapped my ass that hard had been a one-time thing. When I’d told him I wanted him to do it again, I hadn’t thought about how it would feel on an already-spanked bottom. The sting was so intense it took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes, but I literally almost came and I felt, inexplicably, as though we’d accomplished something important. Wave after wave of need washed over me, a desperate cry for release that couldn’t wait one single second longer to be answered.

  “God, Geoff, touch me,” I begged.

  He obeyed immediately, nudging my thighs farther apart and slipping two fingers into my pussy. The second his thumb brushed my clit I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out. Still his thumb rubbed gently across my clit as the spasms rippled through me. I’d hardly finished coming before it began to build again. I climbed into his lap, straddling him and kissing him with a wanton wildness I couldn’t remember ever feeling before. I kissed his neck, his face, his lips, like I wanted to eat him alive.

  He tangled his hands in my hair and kissed me back with equal eagerness and desire. Our mouths pressed so tightly together his teeth scraped across my lower lip, giving me chills that made my ass burn even hotter. He cradled my breasts roughly, flicking aggressive fingers across the stiffened peaks until I thought I’d go mad. Then he slid his hands down my sides and around my hips, teasing his fingers across my still smarting skin. Without warning, he grasped my ass firmly in both hands, shooting mingled pleasure and pain in all directions. I threw my head back and cried out, completely consumed by the frantic need surging through me. He started to lift me, but I pushed against his chest.

  “I need to suck your cock. Geoff, I have to. I don’t know why.”

  Without a word, he let me slide to my knees in front of him. I wrangled with his fly, desperate to touch the clearly defined erection pressing against his pants. He shifted his hips so I could get at him and his cock sprang free, thick and hot and delicious. My ass still stung and my pussy wept with the need to take him inside and the emotions roiling through me made me feel like I couldn’t get close enough to him.

  I sucked him down like I was starving and he groaned loudly, pushing my excitement to the breaking point. My whole entire being seemed centered on his cock and I worked his hard shaft with my hands and my tongue, swallowing him in until I could feel him against the back of my throat. His hips rocked, thrusting him deeper into my mouth and I took him willingly, wanting to give him everything he’d given me, but not knowing quite how. His hands tangled in my hair, holding me in place, and I gloried in the desperation of his need. His breath came fast and harsh and his stomach shook under the force of my assault. I felt powerful, invincible, despite my recent submission and despite the fact that I knelt before him like a servant, my only goal to give him pleasure.

  “Jesus, Gabby, I can’t hold on much longer,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

  I rushed to straddle him again, impaling myself on his cock, thrusting him into my pussy with a swift shove that made us both cry out. He seized my mouth in a kiss so intense it stole the last vestige of rational thought from my mind. A handful of hard, fast thrusts later and we both came, moaning and shaking like we’d been struck by lightning.

  I collapsed against his chest, every nerve ending in my body raw with stimulation. He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in my hair. Gradually, our heartbeats calmed and our breath slowed. As the intensity level eased, euphoria took over. I felt confident and sexy and free and alive. I felt like there was nothing in the world I couldn’t do. It didn’t make any sense, but it was how I felt all the same.

  I was also sharply aware of how much I loved the man holding me. The fantasy couldn’t have happened with someone else. I’d never have been able to trust another man so deeply. He’d taken complete control of my body in a way that could have been degrading, but had somehow empowered me instead. He’d watched me squirm on his lap, utterly exposed and completely vulnerable. I’d ridden him with a fierce and uncontrolled abandon I hadn’t even known I was capable of. With his arms wrapped around me, I felt safe and beautiful and loved. I knew then was what it was to be completely happy. I’d finally and unquestionably found real romance.

  “Geoff,” I said shakily, my head still resting against the now limp cotton of his shirt.

  “Yeah?”

&
nbsp; “I think we’re going to have to dry clean your suit.”

  Chapter Four

  I was sitting on the edge of the bed brushing out my hair when he came in from the bathroom. He looked comfortable and sexy, my same old Geoff, but with a completely new appeal. His dark hair was damp from the shower, his chest was bare and his cotton sleep pants rode low on his hips. My heart leapt when I saw him, as though we hadn’t just spent a highly erotic twenty minutes beneath the steam. He sprawled across the bed, settling on his side to face me as I ran the brush through the final few strands. I turned to see him watching me intently, his elbow propped on the comforter, his jaw propped on his fist. He smiled, a slow, warm smile that made my insides bubble with joy. I set the brush on the nightstand and slipped up next to him, rolling onto my stomach and kissing his biceps.

  “You doing okay?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I’m fabulous.”

  He reached out to stroke my hair. “Good.”

  “Are you good?”

  “I’ve never been better.”

  We laid there for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. After a while, he kissed my shoulder.

  “I have something for you,” he said, his voice serious. He got up and walked into the other room. When he came back, he carried his suit coat, and he stopped at the edge of the bed to pull a tiny gold box from an inner pocket. “I had intended to give it to you earlier, but the timing wasn’t right.”

  I sat up, mind racing. I loved Geoff so much it stunned me, but was I really ready for the usual contents of little gold boxes? And was he really ready to ask? The word “love” hadn’t even crossed his lips yet. Mine either, for that matter, regardless of how I felt.

  “What is it?”

  “Just open it,” he said, handing it to me.