His palm smacked across both ass cheeks again and then alternated left and right. She reached deeper into the water and clenched her fist around a smooth stone, the refreshing chill contrasting with the stinging heat of her butt and the wet, sultry heat between her legs. She never would have imagined being spanked could be such an erotic turn-on.
Her ears filled with the trickling rhythm of the stream inches below, and her arms floated in the smooth, steady current, filling her with a calmness she’d never been able to achieve through yoga or meditation.
Cool air teased her tender flesh. The spell broken, she jerked her head up. Jonah smoothed his palm over her bare ass, the elastic waistband of her leggings now stretched across her thighs.
He probably had expected another layer, and she’d shocked him with more bad behavior. “I couldn’t wear underwear,” she explained. “The panty lines would have shown.”
“Very smart. I approve.”
His approval apparently didn’t negate her “bad witch” punishment because he smacked her bare cheeks with enthusiasm. She stretched toward the creek, digging her fingers into the grooves between the pebbles until her palms filled with soft mud. As she squeezed her fists, the cool balm of the mud seeped through her, soothing the heat and hurt of her backside into a hum of desire.
The rhythmic slaps abruptly ceased. Leaning over her, Jonah scooped a handful of water. A moment later, the cold liquid trickled first over one fiery ass cheek then the other, the icy salve both shocking and erotic. She jerked and hissed.
“You like it?” He traced a finger down her crack and along her wet and aching slit, bumping her clit.
Unable to formulate a single word, she gasped her delight and eagerness for more.
Stroking her opening again, he dipped a finger inside her. A current of white-hot desire poured through her, wet waves encircling his digit as the water from the brook coursed against her fingers. Wet, steady, reassuring rhythms in pure, natural form buffeted her, melding her body and soul.
She didn’t know if nature had brought her closer to Jonah, or if he had opened her connection to the earth, but she knew without a doubt she didn’t want to separate the two. She wanted them both. They were both an intrinsic part of her.
“I need to fully connect with you. Be one with me and nature,” she begged.
Grunting, he scooted out from under her. Lying on her stomach over the hard, smooth rock, she reached back and yanked off her leggings while he unbuttoned his jeans and tore open a condom.
He draped his body over hers, sandwiching her between his sculpted, muscled torso and the unyielding piece of nature millions of years old that would continue to stand long after she was gone. The heat of Jonah’s pelvis seared her sensitive ass. He grasped her hips, raising her and angling himself against her opening.
“Yes, yes,” she urged. The creek’s current rushed through her fingers. Not trying to hold back the natural flow, she let it sweep her along as he pressed into her.
As he glided in and out of her passage in a rhythm as old as time, a minnow swam along her arm. Across the bank, a bullfrog croaked. Overhead, birds chirped. Unable to stay silent, she added her cry of joy to the symphony.
Jonah lowered his body so he covered her from head to toe, his hands braced on the rock on either side of her. He brushed his lips against the side of her neck, sending waves of tenderness and fresh desire through her.
Needing him to experience the connection to nature with their lovemaking, she scooped her right palm through the clear creek and poured the cool water over the knuckles of his left hand.
He lurched inside her, deepening the penetration and her pleasure. “Do it again,” he rasped.
She plunged her shaking hands into the water again and brought the gushing stream to him. Her pelvic muscles squeezed, milking his pleasure.
Grasping his fingers, she pulled them from the surface of the rock and immersed them in the flowing stream. His cock thrust deeper, hitting her pleasure point. Turning her head, she captured his mouth, tangling her tongue with his as bliss consumed her.
She’d become one with the earth, the creek, the creatures around them, and most of all, Jonah.
After several minutes, he levered onto his elbows and rolled into a sitting position. Tugging her onto his lap, he nuzzled her neck while she relaxed against his chest, content beyond her wildest imaginations.
“I don’t know if you’re a good witch or a bad witch. But you’re an amazing woman, and I believe we belong together,” he said, his voice strong and confident, leaving no doubt he could handle the witch in her and the woman, as well.
She wrapped her arms around him, belonging in a way she never had in the city or with her family or anywhere else. “I believe that too. How crazy would I be if I quit my job, dumped my apartment, and stayed here forever?”
“Not crazy at all. I happen to know a guy who owns a lot of property and whose herbs and vegetables are in high demand. But he’s kind of a recluse who could use a business manager who’s really in tune with nature.”
She smiled, bursting with happiness. The connections that had eluded her for most of her life—to the earth, to others, to her own desires—settled deep in her bones. “If I say I need to think about it, will you spank me until I agree?”
His eyes twinkled. “It would be my pleasure.”
“The pleasure will be mine,” she corrected. “But I’ll share it with you and everything around us.”
Meet Sara Daniel
Sara Daniel writes what she loves to read—irresistible romance, from sweet to erotic and everything in between. She battles a serious NASCAR addiction and was once a landlord of two uninvited squirrels. She lives her own happily-ever-after romance with her hero husband. You can learn more on her website: http://www.SaraDaniel.com For updates on her new releases, subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/rx_AL
Simon by Leigh Ellwood
Rik palmed the quartz sphere, studying each opaque spike and scratch within the rock. Though it was no bigger than a baseball, it certainly felt heavier. He tapped the smooth surface close to a black mark deep within the globe. “What’s that?”
Otis looked from the stack of index cards he sorted and moved away from the cash register to better see the oblong flaw in the crystal. “Oh, that’ll be Simon.” A rib-rattling cough punctuated his raspy words. “He’s a demon that got trapped.”
“A what?” Rik laughed at the casualness of the store owner’s remark. It shouldn’t have surprised him, though. Over the ten years he’d visited the metaphysical bookstore, browsing and buying numerous books on world religions and paranormal activity, Otis shared many a fascinating tale and curiosity. He kept an impressive inventory of notions used for various purposes: herbs, pendulums, essential oils, and the occasional batch of dried chicken feet from South America. To an eleven-year-old obsessed with Harry Potter, The Mage’s Bookshop seemed as close to Hogwarts as a “Muggle” could get.
Now, at twenty-one, Rik visited to catch up with an old friend. He still thumbed through books—mainly on homeopathic medicine and sexuality—but viewed the tarot cards and color charts with a touch of skepticism.
The demon in the crystal…well, Otis had never spun such a yarn that he recalled.
“Who names a demon Simon?” Rik shook the globe but the dark mark didn’t move. The quartz really must have closed in the poor bugger.
“It is a name from biblical times. Both the New and Old Testament have their tales of nasty spirits.” Otis adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and reached for the sphere. In his leathery, dark-skinned hands, the quartz glowed bright and enhanced the smudge called Simon. “Though, this bugger hasn’t been stuck in here that long. Since the nineteenth century, but I’m fuzzy on dates. Simon tried to hex my great-grandmother, not knowing she was a damn powerful voodoo priestess. She countered the curse and got him back.” Otis clucked, shaking his head. “Poor old fool terrorized the Louisiana coast for years
, and Nana put a stop to it.”
Rik bit his lower lip to keep from laughing. Otis talked often of his eccentric family, and he didn’t want to appear insulting. “If you’ve had that for so long, how come I’ve never seen it before?”
Otis glanced toward the back of the shop. “I guess ol’ Simon got tired of the storeroom and rolled on out to see what was goin’ on in here. Wouldn’t be the first time.” With a smile the old black man set the quartz on a stack of hand-written receipts by the register. The sphere should have rolled at least an inch on the flat surface, but it stayed. Perhaps Simon had traveled enough for one day.
“If you like, I could show him the garage.” Rik crooked his neck toward the front door. His father’s auto shop, where he worked, sat across the street from Otis’s store. Both institutions in the neighborhood, they now suffered proximity to a line of frozen yogurt and chain coffee joints.
“I think it’s best he not wander off.” Otis sounded dead serious. “If you don’t mind, though, I need to get a sandwich. Could you watch the place for a few minutes? It’s been pretty slow for a Monday.”
“I know, that’s why I came over here.” Rik gave the sphere the side-eye. Marco’s Auto Body & Detail usually saw a good number of cars roll in after the weekend, but today…zip. Today this funny, accursed object comes to light. Coincidence?
He chuckled. He’d have believed a connection ten years ago. Even Harry Potter had to grow up.
“Go on, take all the time you want.” He waved Otis off with a smile.
The older man grabbed his hat from the stand by the front door and invited Rik to skim through a box of newly released books behind the counter. “You might learn something,” he joked, then shuffled out of sight.
Rather than stand guard behind the register, Rik drifted toward the fiction shelf. Otis didn’t stock many novels outside of the popular fantasy series, mainly because his clientele came to The Mage for specific titles on esoteric subjects. Rik could have purchased his Tolkien and C.S. Lewis books elsewhere and saved some money, but he preferred to support local businesses. Also, Otis could actually hold an intelligent discussion about Narnia and Mordor, unlike the bored, gum-chewing teenagers filing their nails at the mall stores.
He picked up a book with a beautiful elf princess on the cover and thumbed the pages when something cold spread across his shoulders and down his back. Otis might have told him a ghostly presence lurked close, and ten years ago he would have leaped to one side. Adult Rik glanced around the store for any evidence of faulty air conditioning chilling the store. The sudden temperature drop unsettled him, but pride kept him in place.
He flipped a page. The cool air caressed the back of his neck. His skin prickled. He fixated on a sentence and fought for focus.
A book on the top shelf wobbled and fell to the floor.
“What the—?” He reached down for it when the air rushed over him and something kicked him in the backside. Rick tumbled onto his knees, hissing with the brief jolt of pain.
“Hey! Otis, that’s not funny.” Rik rubbed the sore spot and rested against one hip, both books opened beside him. It wasn’t like the shop owner to prank him, much less act with aggression. He looked up to give Otis hell but the words caught in his throat on seeing the figure looming overhead.
Rail-thin and pale, he wore a long black cloak to match his tunic and pants. Blond hair cascaded over his shoulders and back, and water-blue eyes pierced Rik with desire. His lips curled up in a sneer as they regarded each other.
“You plan on buying that book?” The man’s voice dripped with sensuality.
“What’s it to you?” Rik hadn’t heard the man enter the store—a bell always pinged to announce a customer. Otis never said anything about hiring somebody, either. “If you’ve come to rob the place, I don’t know the safe combination.” He eyed the man’s legs, thinking a low roundhouse kick could take the intruder by surprise.
That’s when he noticed this…person…levitated. Rik saw no shadow, either.
He scrambled back about a few feet and braced against the shelf to stand. The floating stranger didn’t move, but Rik couldn’t predict his next action. “Otis doesn’t keep much in the safe, anyway, so why don’t you—”
He tapped the corner of the register station and the low rumble of a hard, rolling sphere filled the silence. Rik caught the crystal just as it tipped over the edge. It felt lighter than when he first handled it.
What’s more, no dark smudge.
He looked up at the floater, now smirking at him.
“Simon?”
Simon flashed a beautiful smile. “It’s nice to stretch one’s legs, yes?”
His heart swelled, and his pulse quickened. “H-how did you get out?”
Simon blew out a derisive noise. “I come and go as I please. Otis knows it. He probably didn’t tell you to keep you from pissing yourself.”
“I don’t scare easily.” Rik crossed his legs and took a step back.
“Nonetheless, I’ve seen you in this store for years. You browse more than you buy, and one time…” the demon slid—no, floated—closer with a devious sneer, “you forgot to pay.”
“What? You’re full of…” After a second, the memory filled Rik’s head. He could only hide the last copy of a fantasy fan magazine for so long, since Otis kept straightening the periodical shelves. Short on cash, Rik had removed the cover and slipped it over a copy of Mother Jones, then slipped the fantasy mag under his shirt. He had always intended to make amends.
He always forgot, too.
He reached for his wallet. “I can set it right. I’ll even pay for price inflation. I’m sure that magazine costs more now.” He pulled out a five, but Simon didn’t hold out a hand for it.
“I’ll leave all financial restitutions to Otis. You, I should have dealt with years ago, but Otis wouldn’t have approved of my corrupting a minor.” Simon chuckled. “You’ve definitely grown.”
“Otis? What’s he—”
A strong wind knocked Rik off his heels and he toppled forward, catching his abdomen on the edge of the counter. Simon materialized behind him, and with one hard tug had the seat of Rik’s work jumpsuit crumpled in his fist, along with a swatch of the jogging shorts he used for underwear today.
“Hey!” Rik shuddered as his ass felt the breeze, more so when something indiscernible brushed his skin. Could demons get hard-ons? Did they have the equipment to get hard?
“Don’t worry.” Simon’s voice hummed low. “I’m not going to fuck you. If I can live patiently in a quartz sphere for centuries, I can wait until you’re ready for it.”
“What makes you think I’d want it?” Rik failed to sound brave. Simon kicked at his ankles to guide into a more submissive stance.
“I’ve seen the books you read here, sweetie.” Simon cupped a bare cheek and squeezed. “Hopefully this will teach you to pay for your reading material.”
Thwack! His cheeks stung on impact and he grunted his displeasure. All the same, Rik imagined the demon could have exacted worse punishments. Of course, Simon wasn’t finished.
Thwack, thwack, thwack! The blows came fast, giving him no time to react. Rik grasped the counter and bit his lip, praying for Otis to return and put a stop to this torture. It hurt like hell, though every time Simon rubbed a smooth palm over his heated ass his resistance faded. He wasn’t into BDSM or anything kinky—coming out to family and friends proved far out enough for him. Could he stand something like this on a regular basis?
Thwack! “I could do this all day,” Simon said with a short laugh. He caressed Rik’s behind and traced a trail up his spine. A delicious shiver followed.
Maybe he could.
“Unfortunately, I’ve spent enough time out,” he continued. He pressed a soft fabric against Rik and his clothing returned to normal. Simon then popped into Rik’s line of vision, standing behind the counter with his arms folded.
“You going to be a good boy?” he scolded,
flashing a sexy smile.
Rik answered with a soft sigh, and the demon faded into a gray mist. When Rik regained the strength to move he reached for the quartz and saw the dark smudge back in place. If not for the soreness, he’d swear he hallucinated the whole thing.
The bell on the door pealed, and he whipped around to greet Otis. “Pretty quiet here,” he said quickly. “You didn’t miss much.”
“Good to know.” Otis rounded the counter and set his take-out bag by the register. “Let’s get this out of the way,” he said and set the quartz to one side. “You hungry, Rik? I got a footlong, but I won’t eat it all right now.”
“No, thanks. I need to get back to the garage. I’ll see you around?” He waved and left the store owner to his lunch, walking slowly to the door. The ache persisted, but he savored the tingling with each step.
“I’ll come by tomorrow,” he added and received no verbal answer. Otis bit into his sandwich and searched the bag’s contents.
Rik paused a moment to make certain the old man didn’t see, then swiped a paperback from the front display before leaving.
About Leigh
I am Leigh Ellwood. I write smutty stories about people who like getting naked and having sex. Some have more sex than others, some have sex with people of the same gender, some have sex with more than one person, and still others have sex with toys and things that require the use of batteries. My stories range from a few thousand words to well past 70k. My books are available at Amazon, B&N, Smashwords, Kobo, and ARe.
Home http://www.leighellwood.com
Blog – http://leighwantsfood.blogspot.com
Twitter - @LeighEllwood
Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/leighellwoodauthor
Authorgraph - http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/LeighEllwood
Bear for Her by D.L. Jackson
Spank or Treat 2014 Page 8