Marcus swallowed hard and rose to his full height. He pinned Stephie against the counter with a hand on either side of her. “All right, sweetheart. I’ll try. I’ll really try. I don’t want to lose you.”
Her face melted. “Baby, you’re not going to lose me. I’m not sick anymore, and I get regular checkups.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He cupped a hand over her heart. “I meant I didn’t want to lose you. Us. Our marriage.”
Moisture shone in her eyes and she shook her head. “You won’t.” She grinned. “You’re stuck with me for life. Annoying nail clicking habit of mine and all.”
He chuckled, then drew back as his laughter died. He grew serious, and as she fidgeted under his gaze, his cock began to harden against her thigh. An idea sprung into his mind, and he seized on it before the usual seeds of doubts had time to take root.
“Speaking of that annoying nail clicking habit, hold out your hand. The left one. Palm up.” He reached around her to a container holding various kitchen implements and grabbed the smallest wooden spoon.
Her eyes had grown impossibly wide, and she stared up him with her lips parted slightly. Little gasps emitted from her as her breathing increased. She squirmed in place.
“I don’t like repeating myself, young lady. Now hold out your hand like a good girl, palm up.” He backed away, giving her enough room to reach out and do as he’d asked. He’d paddled her bottom plenty of times with wooden spoons, but he’d never cracked a spoon, or anything else, across her palm before. The idea had taken him by surprise.
Slowly, she lifted her arm and reached toward him, finally turning her hand over. Her palm flattened and she tensed, as if expecting him to begin immediately. But he wasn’t ready yet. She needed a good scolding.
“Tell me why you’re in trouble, little girl.”
She gasped and her breathing increased further. “I . . . I was trying to make you angry. Poking the bear, so to speak. I was rude to you today, too. Is-is that all?” Head bowed slightly as she awaited punishment, she offered the perfect picture of submission. His cock twitched again, and his balls tightened. Hard and hot. Tingling. It had been so long since he’d truly put her in her place. The thrill of dominating her, even during a serious punishment, had never ceased to arouse him. He’d missed that thrill and reveled in the invigorating power coupled with responsibility and love.
“Yes, Stephie. You were very disrespectful to me today, especially in the restaurant when you were muttering curse words under your breath. Do I speak to you that way?
She sighed. “No.”
“No, what?”
“No, sir,” she quickly corrected.
“I love you, sweetheart, and I’m sorry we’re going through a rough patch right now and it’s got you frustrated. But that doesn’t mean you get to disrespect me. I’m your husband and I won’t have it.”
“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry.” Her voice wavered as alarm filled her features.
He brought the spoon down with a thwack, hitting the center of her palm. She flinched but remained in place. Again he brought the spoon down, and again. Ten sharp strikes and her skin finally began to redden. After the twelfth blow, she drew her hand back a few inches.
“Tsk, tsk,” he said. “Do you want me to make you hold out both your hands at the same time?”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. Biting her lip, she reached out and braced for the next smack of the spoon. Marcus didn’t make her wait long. He landed the underside of the spoon atop her palm a dozen more times, the blows mimicking the sound of a bare bottom spanking.
Whimpers escaped her, and pain pinched her face into a grimace. He returned the spoon to its container and gathered Stephie’s hands in his. It was then that he noticed tears glistening in her eyes. She blinked them away, looking embarrassed. He hadn’t brought her to tears during a punishment in, well, since before her illness. The glimmer of tears proved she felt truly disciplined, and it marked a milestone in their journey back to one another.
“I’m sorry,” she said, almost breathless. Her expression had grown urgent and remorseful. Another sheen of tears appeared in her eyes, and she blinked again and again, forcing them back. She’d always been stoic during punishments, and Marcus knew from experience it took a lot to make Stephie cry. A thorough scolding followed by a thorough spanking. He vowed to bring her past the brink of tears next time she earned a punishment, to take them both to another milestone.
“It’s all forgiven. Come here, sweetheart.” Her hair tickled his nose as he pulled her against his body. She sighed contentedly, and he squeezed her tighter, praying this moment signaled a new beginning. A chance to reclaim all the precious time they’d lost.
Chapter Two
Stephie crawled under the covers, naked, per Marcus’s instructions. Anticipation hummed through her, and her pulse increased at the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. After her punishment, they’d watched a few movies, gone on a walk around the lake, and enjoyed steaks on the grill for dinner. As she’d washed the dishes, he’d playfully swat her bottom with the same wooden spoon he’d used earlier.
Cradling her hand in her lap, she tried to rub out the lingering sting. Her heart felt lighter, and hope blossomed in her chest. It hadn’t been a spanking, but Marcus had truly disciplined her. He’d been stern and scolding, and the sting of the spoon cracking across her palm had brought tears to her eyes. The embrace afterward had been bliss. Like old times, except this time she had a sore hand instead of a sore bottom.
“Still hurt?”
She flushed and sank down under the covers. “A little,” she admitted.
The lines around his eyes crinkled as he smiled. No, smirked. “Good.”
Her insides fluttered and she drank in the nervousness, squirming as he leveled an intense look on her. Desire darkened his eyes, and she expected him to start stripping his clothes off, but he didn’t. Instead, he strode to her side of the bed, fully clothed in a pair of jeans and a button down shirt.
“Out of bed.” Each word sounded like a growl emitted from the back of his throat, and her pussy clenched at the air of authority he projected. He continued to stare at her, and she twisted the sheets with her fingers.
“Um, aren’t you going to take your clothes off?”
“Not at the moment. No.”
“But I thought—” Firm hands hauled her out of the bed, cutting off her words.
“You thought wrong, sweetheart.” He sank down on the bed and pulled her over his lap.
Her heart raced. Marcus had avoided spanky panky in the bedroom for months, or so it seemed. He’d only spanked her as foreplay if she asked nicely, and lately she’d been too frustrated to ask. He hadn’t initiated it since her illness. Joy bounced around in her chest as her heart raced faster and faster.
A warm hand cupped her bottom, and he massaged and kneaded her mounds as she settled in over his lap, blissfully resigning herself to her favorite kind of foreplay.
“Spread your legs, sweetheart. I want a good view of your pussy while I’m turning this little bottom bright red.” A light smack to her inner thigh prompted her legs to part. “Good girl,” he said, stroking her flesh.
Heat pulsed between her thighs, and her breath hitched as her anticipation heightened. The first smack came down, stinging her lower right cheek. She gasped and closed her eyes, bracing for the next blow. It came a second later, burning into her left cheek. The steady sound of Marcus’s hand slapping her bottom filled the room. Each time her legs closed, even the slightest bit, he moved to spank her inner thighs, drawing whimpers from Stephie as she rushed to open her legs once more.
“Ouch!” she said, unable to keep silent a moment longer. “Do you have to hit the same spot more than once in a row? Cheese and rice, that hurts!”
“Excuse me?”
“Stop hitting the same spot over and over again!”
He paused and she resisted the urge to reach back to rub the sting out of her backside. His fingers delved
in her hair and he tugged her head back. With his other hand, he kept a possessive hold on her bottom, a warning that he could continue swatting her at any time. He was in control.
“The last time I checked, young lady, you don’t get to shout orders at me during a spanking. This was supposed to be a fun spanking, but now you’ve earned yourself a punishment for mouthing off. The fun stops now.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but a series of rapid, sharp slaps cut her off. She twisted on his lap and reached to shield her bottom, but he caught her wrists and pinned her hands to the small of her back.
“Bad girl,” he scolded, not missing a beat as he spanked.
Shock, elation, regret, and pain consumed Stephie. He was finally spanking her! Oh, but she’d been a tad naughty. And, holy crap, did it hurt. Each smack packed a powerful sting, and the slaps built up and up until her bottom was scorching. She began kicking her legs in a last ditch effort to escape. It shamed her that she was trying to wriggle off Marcus’s lap, but she couldn’t help it. It hurt so much. She’d forgotten how much a real spanking hurt.
“Please, Marcus,” she begged, kicking her legs faster. He responded by shifting one of his legs atop hers, securing her over his lap. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not until he allowed it.
A sob erupted from her throat, and she buried her face in the covers as her tears fell. Marcus laid into her sit-spot and she cried harder. She cried from pain and joy. She wept with her whole heart, giving herself over to Marcus, the husband she loved more than life itself.
“Shh.” His soothing voice penetrated her misery, and she tried to calm her emotions.
He’d stopped spanking. She took a few deep, sniveling breaths, and remained across his lap while he rubbed her back and murmured loving phrases that only served to bring more tears to her eyes. It felt like she’d waited for this punishment forever, this reconnection they’d so desperately needed.
Marcus helped her turn over and gathered her in his arms. She winced when her scorched bottom came into contact with his abrasive jeans, but she settled down into his lap and nestled her head against his chest. It felt like she had returned home after a long absence, and though her homecoming had been painful, the pain had been necessary for them both. She soaked up his strength and his power, breathing in his masculine scent and rubbing her cheek against the softness of his shirt.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now tell me what happens after a punishment spanking?”
Her eyes grew wide, and she pulled back to peer directly into his handsome face. “Corner time?” she asked hesitantly. He hadn’t made her stand in the corner in over two years.
“That’s right. Corner time. I want you to put your nose in the corner and think about how to respectfully speak to your husband. You don’t shout orders. You don’t snap at me. If I’m spanking your bottom for my pleasure, then I expect you to take that spanking as best you can without any flippant comments. Do you understand?”
She flushed. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He kissed her forehead and led her to the corner.
****
Marcus’s swollen, painfully erect cock pressed against his jeans, threatening to bust through the zipper. He watched as Stephie attempted to remain in place in the corner. She fidgeted the entire time, stepping from foot to foot and clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides, obviously desperate to rub her sore little tush. Upon closer inspection, he noticed moisture had trickled down her inner thighs, glistening on her skin like a beacon to his cock, which twitched and swelled harder at the sight.
He glanced at the clock. Her fifteen minutes were up. Thank God.
She gasped when he touched her shoulder and leaned into her body, holding her captive in the corner.
“Have you learned your lesson, little girl?”
“Yes, sir.” Desperation laced her tone, and her shoulders moved heavily in tune with her deep, shuddering breaths.
Keeping one hand on her shoulder, he brought his other hand between her thighs. Slick arousal. Lots of it. His fingers glided easily into her inner core, and her hips shifted back as she moaned.
“What’s all this?” he asked, swirling deeper into her wetness.
Her only response was a groan. Her head fell back, exposing the hollow of her neck. Nipping at her smooth flesh, he trailed kisses from her shoulder to her neck, and up to her ear, where he sank his teeth into her soft lobe. Her hips bucked in rhythm with his thrusting fingers, and she placed her hands flat on the wall for support.
“I think I should be touching you here instead,” he said, moving his attentions to her back hole. He pushed one finger inside, knuckle deep. “Naughty girls get fucked in the ass, don’t they, Stephie?”
She whined and twisted around to meet his gaze, beseeching him with her wide, pretty blue eyes to show her some mercy. “Please,” she begged. “I promise I’ll be good. Please fuck my pussy instead. I-I just want you to fuck my pussy. Hard, sir.”
A growl ripped from Marcus’s throat, and he pushed his finger deeper, all the while holding her pleading gaze. “Maybe I should bend your naughty behind over the bed and shove my big, hard cock in your ass, Stephie. Teach you a lesson.”
Her tightness clamped down on his finger as she shook her head. He grinned and began thrusting into her bottom hole, loving the innocence that crept over her features as she continued to beg. Even after five years of marriage, she still played the part of an anal virgin every time he touched her there. She’d confessed once that the innocent act turned her on.
Marcus’s clothing suddenly felt restrictive and suffocating, and he released his hold on Stephie and backed up, ordering her to face him. Slowly, she turned around with her head bowed. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her nipples had hardened into perfect dark pink peaks.
“If you’re a very good girl and get into position on the bed, on your hands and knees with your bottom thrust up high, without rubbing your punished bottom in the process, I’ll fuck your pussy instead of your ass. If I see you rub that bottom once though, I’m fucking you in the ass hard, young lady.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Relief shone in her eyes, and she scurried into position on the bed. Once she’d settled in with her bottom raised and her legs spread wide, he began to strip off his clothing.
This was a game they used to play, and it had been so long he’d nearly forgotten the rules. If she wanted him to fuck her ass, she’d intentionally rub her bottom. Today, however, her hands hadn’t gone near her backside, and he wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t fucked her ass in weeks, nor had he plugged her recently. His little wife needed training, and his blood heated at the task before him. But not now. He’d go crazy if he didn’t sink his cock between her slick folds.
Marcus sat on the bed and swiped two fingers through her moisture, drawing the wetness lower to spread it over her engorged clit. Her pussy was shaved smooth and he easily found her delicate nub. She squirmed and writhed against his hand, her hips jerking when he flicked over the hood of her clit, rubbing her most sensitive spot. Leaning forward, he blew lightly on her pussy and circled more moisture over her clit.
“Please, Marcus, you’re driving me crazy. I can’t—”
Smack! He stung her bottom with a warning slap and brought his body overtop hers. “Do you need to stand in the corner again?” He fisted a hand in her hair and spoke directly into her ear.
“No, sir. I’m sorry.” Her body relaxed underneath his, and he basked in her surrender.
Once he secured her promise to remain in position, he returned his attentions to her pussy. He traced her bare, slick folds with his tongue, holding her thighs apart as he did so to keep her spread wide. The heady scent of her arousal filled his senses, so intoxicating, and he lapped at her clit while she whimpered and shuddered, pushing her close to orgasm only to lessen his ministrations just before she reached that precious peak. He rose up on his knees, gripping her hips as he tea
sed her wet heat with his cock, running the tip of his length through her dripping moisture, until a sheen of sweat covered her body.
As he continued to torment Stephie, he admired her red, chastised bottom. His heart leapt to see her so well-punished yet unharmed at the same time. He’d done it. He’d finally given her the spanking she kept asking for, and he’d been too afraid to administer. He had planned the whole ordeal, of course, but she didn’t need to know that. Earlier, he’d purposefully swatted the same spot on her backside over and over again, hoping for an impertinent response. Fortunately, she’d supplied one.
“I’m still trying to decide which hole I’m going to fuck you in.” He pushed his cock head to her entrance, but didn’t thrust inside, all the while pressing two fingers against her sphincter.
Rising up on her forearms, she peered at him from over her shoulder. Those pleading eyes again. His cock jerked in his hand, as if siding with Stephie. Pussy.
His anticipation culminated into a frenzied need. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. He drove into her pussy, thrusting balls-deep in one quick movement.
“Pussy it is,” he said, withdrawing partially only to slam back into her tightness.
Chapter Three
The days flew by and the art exhibit in New York approached. After finally making headway in the domestic discipline side of their relationship, Stephie didn’t want to hinder this progress and kept silent on the matter, though the trip she longed to take was never far from her mind. It would be so easy to pack a bag, drive five hours north, spend the evening at the exhibit and the night at her sister’s apartment, and then drive home the following day. So easy. Yet so difficult. Marcus obviously hadn’t changed his mind or he would’ve broached the subject.
Dammit. A little part of her conspired to leave after he left for work on Wednesday. He had a full schedule of classes to teach, the first one beginning at eight in the morning, so she could get an early start. Did she dare? She’d never done anything so naughty. So against the rules. Sure, she didn’t agree with his decision, but in the past when she’d disagreed with Marcus, she’d still respected his decisions and tried to abide by them.
Milestones Page 13