by Parker Swift
Now I was definitely awake. As promised. “Not by anyone but you.”
“Those weren’t spankings, baby. Those were hints of what you’re about to get from me. This is all about pleasure, I promise. You want this?” Holy shit. This was really going to happen. I was wide awake now.
“Yes.” I sucked in my breath and licked my lips in anticipation.
One hand held me firmly at my hip, and all of a sudden the other hand was gone. It landed firmly and squarely across my ass cheek. My back clenched and my head flew up as I tried to adjust to the feeling. He placed his palm in the center of my back and held it for a moment, stilling me. “Shh, baby. We’ll do fifteen.” He was in full-on dominant mode, and it was hotter than hell.
He resumed, shifting his strikes from left to right, soothing my ass between the blows by running the cool back of his hand over me. Each one seemed to resonate deep in my belly. They hurt, but not as much as they were turning me on, and the pain was welcome. It spoke right to my desire, like a scratch to my itch, fueling it and soothing it at the same time. I’d never imagined that this was what this would feel like. My clit was begging, pleading for his attention. The slaps felt like teases, each one readying me more for him. I was wishing and hoping that his fingers would at least graze me, as each sting brought me closer and closer to an orgasm that was promising to blow me apart.
How did he know? How did he know this was going to do this to me? Did he see right through me from the beginning? Did every woman like this?
I could hear his ragged breath behind me, and could feel that he was in his own sensual rhythm. Finally his hand stilled, and he began peppering my ass with gentle kisses. “Look at you, Lydia. You look glorious.” He took his fingers and tested my entrance. I was practically dripping, and I could feel him withdraw, soaked in my dampness. “And you loved it, baby. Look at you, so ready for me.”
He flipped me over onto my front and looked straight into my eyes.
“Holy fuck, that was incredible,” I said, barely being able to catch my breath.
He smiled knowingly. “God, I can’t wait to be inside you.” He dropped his pants, quickly sheathed himself, and entered me hard and fast, slamming into me deeply.
“Knees up.” I obeyed, and he pressed my knees into my shoulders, exposing my entire bottom to him and allowing him deeper entry. He entered slowly and became more deliberate in his assault. He leaned back, angling his thrusts so his hardness connected directly with the sensitive bundle of nerves inside me. With each entry, the dull ache vibrated and pulsed, pushing me towards my climax.
“You’re close, baby, I can feel you.” I clenched around him, trying to gain control over the onslaught of pleasure. “Let go, Lydia. I want to feel you come all around me.”
I stopped trying to control it and released, letting my body fly away into the intense earth-shattering orgasm. He was undoing me, more and more each time he was inside me, making me more and more his, making the idea of ever doing this with anyone else seem more and more remote.
He leaned over me, twisting me into him, so we were lying tangled in my bed. He looked into my eyes, stroking my cheek tenderly. “Are you ok?”
I smiled up at him. “Yes.” But I was also shocked. I had just never expected to have a reaction like that to being spanked. It was so crazy good, and I had needed to be fucked by him afterwards. My pussy had been aching for him. I opened my mouth to tell him more, but I stopped. I didn’t want to interrupt this moment—he looked so insanely pleased. He was radiant.
“What?”
“I just didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?”
“That I’d like this so much. That I’d want you to spank me, to be so bossy in bed with me, that it would turn me on so much…and—”
“You’re wondering what it says about you?” I nodded. He did get it. “All it says is that you are open. That’s it. You’re strong, you’re receptive, you’re delightful, funny, accomplished, and open. And you’re all mine.” He was emphatic in his possession.
“Could you see that I’d like this from the beginning?”
“I hoped.” He thought for a minute. “And when I kissed you in Canada, I could feel how turned on you were, even though I was being my domineering asshole self. But Christ, Lydia, when I saw you in that bikini, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.” I grinned at his admission and he continued to gently stroke my ass, his hand a cooling balm for where he’d spanked me. “Now, let’s get you into the shower.”
I gave him a frustrated pout. I still had an ache for him. He shot me a disapproving glance. “Don’t give me that look. I know you want more, but you’ll have to wait, baby. It’s getting late, and you’re the one with other plans. Not me.”
He luxuriated over every inch of me in the shower, paying careful affectionate attention to my ass. When we got out he filled his hands with lotion and ordered me to face the mirror. “Hands on the sink. Bend over, let me take care of you.” I complied, and he gently rubbed the cream into my ass. It felt heavenly. “Sore?”
I shook my head. “I’m actually more sore here.” I looked down and pressed my thighs together.
“I’m breaking you in.” He smiled.
“In so many ways.” I stood, and let him place his hands on my hips as he stood behind me, both of us naked, looking in the mirror. He stroked his hand down my arm, and I leaned back into him. We stayed that way for a moment, just long enough for me close my eyes and think about how I didn’t want to be anywhere else.
* * *
Josh, Fiona, and I stepped from the cab and into the glowing lights brightening the entrance to the club. Dylan had gone off, promising to see me later. I was feeling somewhat self-conscious in a dress that Daphne had insisted I bring with me, but which I had never actually worn—a mini brightly patterned dress that hit above mid-thigh, but was otherwise rather demure with three-quarter-length sleeves and a modest neckline. This dress was all about the legs. I left my hair down, and accessorized only with a pair of gold heels and a black clutch.
Josh looked the perfect hot companion in a very fitted suit, and Fiona sported a tight dress that fit her like a glove. Lucy had apparently arrived early and was already on the dance floor. “Let’s do this!” Josh gave a battle cry. Then he clutched my arm as we entered the club, “We are going to find a perfect proper chap for you to take home tonight, Lydia.”
Oh lordy.
We managed to get ourselves drinks and were hanging on the sidelines taking in the scene. Before long we made our way to the dance floor, and I lost myself completely in the music, the four of us dancing together. Perhaps it was the third drink, the much-needed disco nap or having been spanked and actually enjoying it, but I felt refreshed and quickly submitted to the music. I hadn’t been dancing in forever, and it was the perfect balm after a long week.
Every ten minutes, Fiona or Josh would lean over and point out some good-looking suited guy, but I managed to distract them or find some flaw, make some excuse. I figured they’d eventually give up. I looked at my phone and it was well after midnight. I’d slowed down on the drinks, but I really needed a rest from the dance floor. My feet were positively throbbing. I looked at the large banquettes and tables longingly. They were apparently reserved for those purchasing extremely expensive bottles of alcohol, which were a few notches above our pay grade, so I’d have to settle for leaning against a pillar. I was there for a moment, and Josh had gone to get a refill when I saw Michael, my next-door neighbor, approaching with a smile.
“Well, hello there, Lydia. I see you found the hottest spot in town.”
“Hi!” I shouted over the music. “Yes! How are you? This place is wild!”
“It’s a favorite among my friends, but it gets to be a little much as the night wears on.” He looked around, and we took in the increasingly drunk crowd.
“I can see that.”
“Can I get you a drink?”
“No, no, I’m fine. Thank you. I’m just taking a
break.”
“What about a date?”
Had I heard him correctly? “What?”
“A date. You know. I’d pick you up. We’d get dressed in our smartest. I’d take you out for dinner. Chatting, laughing, eating more than we should. A date.” He was smiling.
My mind was reeling. It was so strange to hear someone asking me out on a date when in my mind I was dating someone else, someone who would never take me out for dinner. I mean dating is what I should be doing. I must have waited too long to respond, because eventually he just said, “How about just a dance, eh?”
I shrugged my shoulders, “Ok. Just one, though—my feet are killing me.” He gave me a big smile, and all of a sudden I felt guilty. I didn’t want to lead him on. It’s just a dance, I told myself. Josh was approaching, and I signaled him, making my intentions clear. He gave me a huge thumbs-up and skipped off to find Fiona and Lucy.
I followed Michael onto the dance floor, and we took to the music. It was a fast song, thankfully, and I attempted to keep some distance. He grabbed my hip, and I let him for a moment, but then I raised my hands and tried to pull some moves that made touching me more difficult. I was so uncomfortable. The whole thing felt so wrong.
Finally the music shifted into the next song, and I leaned over and half screamed, “Thanks for the dance!” with a smile. I signaled that I had to use the bathroom and walked away. I headed towards a set of stairs that promised toilets at the top, but as I got close I saw a familiar imposing figure leaning against the railing, just out of the light.
Dylan did not look happy—a combination of frustration and something else marred his features. He grabbed my hand firmly and practically dragged me beneath the staircase, so we were hidden, our faces lit only by the pulsing lights of the dance floor. I was leaning against a wall, and Dylan was leaning over me, tension radiating from every muscle.
His face was stern, and his jaw was locked shut. His eyes didn’t contain a hint of threat; instead, they were searching, scanning me with an infuriating combination concern and frustration. “Who the fuck was that?”
Chapter 27
What are you doing here? Couldn’t you just text and let me know you were coming?”
“I did. You didn’t respond.” Shit. I hadn’t felt or heard my phone in my bag. “But I’m talking about that dance. Who was that?”
“I’m sorry about missing your texts, Dylan. I am, really. But that dance was nothing. It was a distraction. Do you know how many dances I avoided tonight? Josh and Fiona were trying to throw me in the path of every guy in here. They were starting to think I was crazy or celibate! That dance was the exact same thing as a photograph with Amelia Reynolds. How dare you come in here and act all affronted when we’re this giant secret? When we’re just sex. What else do you expect me to do?” My arms were crossed, and I was deploying my best angry eyes and pursed lips at him.
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Are you done?”
“No. Dylan, you can’t stop me from dancing—”
“You told me there wouldn’t be anyone else,” he said, all of a sudden looking more wounded than angry.
“Dylan, you have to trust me! I wasn’t going to do anything but dance, and if you were watching surely you could tell that I wasn’t enjoying myself. You must have been able to tell that there was no threat.” I looked at him with my best “come on!” look. “Do you really think you have two legs to stand on after the Amelia photo?”
He sighed in resignation and ran his hand through his hair again, his frustration showing. “I wanted to go over there and tell that arse that you were with me…I…” His voice was trailing off. I could barely hear what he had said. He seemed so torn all of a sudden. “Plus, Lydia, that guy wants in your pants.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s my next-door neighbor—he was just being nice.” I didn’t totally believe it, but Dylan had nothing to worry about.
His eyes widened. “He lives next door to you?” Crap. “Lydia, it’s obvious that he likes you. Admit that, or I won’t ever let you go home alone again. Ever. I dare you to see if I’m joking about this.” Christ.
“Ok,” I retreated as I spoke. He clearly needed to be reassured, and there was no getting around him. “Yes, he flirts. But you have nothing to worry about. Remember, baby? I’m yours.” It was the first time I’d used the term of endearment with him, and I could tell instantly that he liked it.
He sighed heavily, as though he forcing the uncomfortable feelings out with his breathe. “Thank god for that. Shit. I’m sorry, baby. I…” He held me tightly to his chest.
He didn’t get a chance to finish his thought before my phone beeped audibly, and we both glanced into my purse. How convenient that now I could hear my phone. Dylan’s hand left my ass and grabbed my phone, showing me the several texts that had come in from him, and I rolled my eyes at him. But the latest one was from Josh.
SATURDAY, 12:59 am
Where are you? We’re at the downstairs bar.
Dylan sighed, and I could feel some of his tension falling away. “Are you ready to go?” he said as he released me. I nodded, grateful.
“I’ll just text.” I wrote Josh and Fiona.
SATURDAY, 1:01 am
Was in bathroom. Exhausted. I’m gonna grab a cab and head home.
Dylan had been looking over my shoulder, “They’re not going to let you just go get a cab by yourself are they?”
“I’m not getting a cab by myself. I’m going home with you, you idiot.”
“They don’t know that,” he said in frustration. His fierce mood had been replaced by concern. Just then a text came in from Fiona.
SATURDAY, 1:03 am
We’re all ready to go. Meet at entrance.
I looked up to Dylan showing him the text. “What should we do?” I wanted so badly for him to just decide that this secrecy wasn’t worth it, that I was important enough to him to be with publicly, and we could just go home in his car together.
“Have the taxi drop them off first and then bring you to mine.” I frowned. I didn’t want to leave his side.
“Isn’t that a little excessive?”
“Better safe than sorry, baby. It won’t take long.” He pulled me close, and his hands were now resting on my ass. He reached down and pulled up the hem of my dress, and cupped my bare ass. “This dress is too short, but I love it. You’re right here for me.”
I looked at him for a moment, giving him a “seriously?” look and raised eyebrow. I felt my phone vibrating again—Josh and Fiona were clearly waiting for me, and I was too tipsy to form a coherent argument.
“Go,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.” I sighed and kissed him before I turned and left.
* * *
When the car finally pulled away from dropping off Fiona, it was after two in the morning. The alcohol had fully caught up with me. I texted Dylan to let him know I was on my way. When the car pulled along the side of his house, he was there to open the car door, and I practically fell into him. He paid the driver, and lifted me into his arms.
“’Snot necessary,” I slurred and halfheartedly tried to fight my way out of his arms.
“You’re completely legless. Let me get you inside.” I surrendered into his arms. He carried me inside and upstairs and stood me up in front of the couch in the sitting room adjoining his bedroom. There was a warm fire going, and I saw a glass of water on the table. He unzipped my dress, and it fell to the floor. My eyes were closed from exhaustion the whole time. He carefully removed my bra and shoes, and pulled me down onto his lap on the couch. He handed me the water. “Drink up.” I complied, and he pulled me into him.
“Are you still all worked up about Michael?” I asked, my eyes closed.
“Michael? Is that his name? No, Michael is not the one I’m worked up about,” he replied while laying gentle kisses in my hair. I started to doze off, my skin warmed by the fire, and he leaned in close. It was barely above a whisper, and I wasn’t sure if it was a dream or
reality, but I heard “I missed you” right before I drifted off.
* * *
I woke in the middle of the night in Dylan’s bed, my back flush against his front, under the thick duvet. I needed the bathroom badly, and I tried to extricate myself without waking him. I lifted his arm, but he wrapped it back around me firmly. “Dylan, I need to use the bathroom.” He grumbled but let me go.
I stood in front of the mirror and marveled that I didn’t feel worse. It was four thirty in the morning, so maybe I was still drunk. I drank down another glass of water, and used Dylan’s toothbrush to brush my teeth. I found some painkillers in a drawer and swallowed them—anything to ease the inevitable crap I’d feel like tomorrow. My face was a wreck, so I took a moment to wash it, gently massaging my eyelids to rid them of the smoky eye makeup Josh had painted on. When I opened them, Dylan was in the doorway, naked.
He pulled me into him, and I could feel his erection growing. “Back to bed.” He was oozing sex, and suddenly I felt very awake. I jumped up and wrapped my legs around him, taking him by surprise. He let out a laugh, and said, “You’re feeling bold, aren’t you? I might have to rein that in, little one.” He slapped my ass and took me back to the bedroom.
He laid me on my bed and slid in next to me, pulling the warm duvet around us. “I know you’re tired, Lydia, but I can’t wait. You feel ok?” I looked up at him and smiled sweetly, giving him my consent. I heard him get a condom, then he rolled me away from him, so we were spooning, and he lifted my top leg with his hand. He positioned himself at my entrance, and slowly, gently fed himself into me. He was slow and patient, holding me to him as he took me from behind, on our sides. He held my breasts, and caressed my belly, curling around me and touching me gently everywhere. This time it was his tenderness that turned me on more than anything. The orgasm brewing in me was slow and steady, but no less powerful. Finally, he reached around and began massaging my clit, as he continued to thrust deeply into me.