Again, that deep chuckle resonated from his chest, as clearly he knew that his touch had muddled her senses.
With one teasing brush of his hand against the outline of nipples through her shirt, he moved one large hand down to the small of her back, and quickly shifted his legs so that she was off balance and manoeuvred her so that she was face down on the sofa, with her bottom tantalisingly placed over his lap.
"What?" she cried out, in shock, suddenly unsure of this turn of events.
"Relax, Bel. It's okay, you wanted to know whether this could be pleasurable remember?"
"But..."
"Shhh, it's okay. I promise I'll make it feel good. Do you trust me?"
Even in her muddled state, Bel knew that she could trust this man with anything and he wouldn't fail her, and looking up at him from what felt like the most vulnerable position she could be in, she nodded.
With one hand, he kneaded her shoulders, determined to rid her of the automatic tension that had gathered there when he'd placed her over his knee. With the other hand, he tenderly reached beneath her and unfastened the buttons of her jeans, so that he could ease them down to rest just below her hips. Although he wouldn't normally have delved so far this quickly – he wanted to take things relatively slowly so that she had time to know and understand, and hopefully accept, the nature of their relationship - he knew that if it was a sensuous erotic spanking that she wanted, it wouldn't work through the protective toughness of denim. Besides, he admitted to himself, there was a part of him that wanted her to get used to the feel of his hand on her bottom, without the protection of jeans, as it would make it easier for her going forward. He could understand why she was scared. It was a normal, sensible reaction for any woman putting herself in such a vulnerable position with a man. But, equally, he knew that she trusted him. She always had, right from childhood and the intervening years had not changed anything. He hoped that by introducing her to this kind of spanking, it would take away some of her fear, even if he would need to find a way to make her understand that a punishment spanking would be far different from anything that she experienced tonight.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, as she felt the cool air around her near naked bottom, with just her emerald green silk undies protecting her.
"It's okay, trust me, it'll be better for you like this, I promise," he soothed with his voice whilst, at the same time, his hand began to stroke delicate patterns over the soft silk, tracing the indent between her buttocks again and again, each time hovering closer to her centre, where he could see moisture was beginning to collect and stain the green silk.
Gradually he felt her relax, and give in to the pleasure that her body was telling her brain was imminent, and her legs naturally fell open over his lap, allowing him easier access to her now wet, shining folds.
"So, Miss Bentley," he said, his voice stern even as his hand continued to massage her intimately, "someone's been very naughty trying to take their own pleasure so quickly, hmmm?"
"What do you mean?" she gasped out, unsure whether he was joking or serious.
He chuckled softly and with one hand reached down and lightly brushed again over her nipples, "rubbing these against me for a start, Miss Bentley, and on a first date as well, I'd say that's very naughty, wouldn't you?"
"Maybe," she groaned.
"And you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you Miss Bentley?"
"I… yes."
"And what's that? Tell me, Miss Bentley?"
"They," she gulped, "they get spanked."
"Indeed that's right!"
Swiftly, he brought his hand down in a firm tap on her left cheek, not enough to hurt, but enough for her to feel it and for her sensitive nerve endings to quiver and tingle.
"Oh!" she gasped, as she felt the rush of blood to the place his hand had gently warmed, and then, immediately, the cool air around her bottom soothing her.
Before she had registered quite what had happened, his hand descended again on her right cheek, and instinctively she jolted.
As she jolted she realised that the palm of his other hand was strategically placed under her most sensitive spot, so that with every jolt she rubbed herself intimately against him.
"Oh god, oh, Alex"
"Mmmm, I see you're still trying to pleasure yourself Miss Bentley, this time against my palm," as the fingers on that same hand gently teased her, gathering her silky moisture from her folds and spreading it over her nub, so that the sensation of each jolt against his hand would be lubricated with her wetness.
Again and again, he brought his hand down over her bottom in gentle taps, never too hard but always firm enough to make her jolt automatically against his other hand, as he felt her legs spread wider, inviting and needing his touch.
As her moans increased, and she began to plead with him to bring her to her release, which only he could control as she was, literally, exposed in his arms, he thought about making it easier for her, thought about touching her and giving her that release swiftly, her need was so evident. But he knew he couldn't. She needed to see how the spanking was fuelling the fire within her, and how its physical effects on her would bring her the relief she craved. Another time, he thought to himself with an inward groan of his own, knowing that a night of unfulfilled need was awaiting him, as no matter how badly he wanted to sink his body into her soft, wet folds, he knew it was too early.
Swiftly, he brought his hand down on her bottom again and again, occasionally letting his fingers delve into her just slightly as she sobbed her need out to him, all inhibitions long gone, and her hips jerked so that her nub drove into his hand in time with his spanks.
Quickly, he felt her thighs and buttocks tighten, and knew her body was about to find its release.
"Alex!" she cried out.
"It's okay, sweetheart, take the pleasure," he soothed, and instantly felt her engorged nub grind into his hand and wetness flooded his palm. Even though he wasn't inside her, his palm could feel her channel flexing and clenching, searching for the penetration it craved.
Gasps wracked her body and she began to tremble.
Quickly, he manoeuvred himself so that he was stretched out under her, with her splayed over his body so that he could tenderly stroke her buttocks and, with his other hand, soothe the muscles in her back, that he could feel were shaking.
Slowly, he kissed her head from where it was slumped on his chest and, as he felt her breathing subside to a more normal rate, he raised her head up so that he could kiss her sensually, at length, wanting to reassure her when he knew she would be feeling so vulnerable.
Immediately, embarrassment flooded her face and she tried to pull away from him.
"Hey!" he said, as if calming a skittish colt, "Don't pull away from me, Bel. Not now."
But still she refused to look at him.
"We can stay like this all night, you know," he said softly after a few minutes, "but sooner or later you're going to have to talk to me."
"I don't know what to say," she whispered into his shoulder, "I know it's a cliché but I'm not normally like that, that is, I've never..."
He smiled, although she couldn't see it, "Oh Bel. Did you really think I didn't know that?"
"I don't just mean the... well, what you just did!" she groaned.
He shook his head. She really was going to have to get over her aversion to the word spanking! He figured being as blunt as possible with her was the only way forward.
"I know, love. I guessed that making you come like that over my hands, propelling yourself from the spanking, was probably a first too." Although teasing, his voice was soft and reassuring and had the desired effect as she lifted her head up in shock at his blunt words and saw his steady gaze, staring up at her tenderly. She drew in a breath at the depth of unconcealed emotion she saw in his eyes.
Slowly, she tried to sit up, and he helped her so that she was upright, but immediately draw her into his arms again, unwilling to let her go and have her brain start to intellectualise w
hat had just happened. Mercifully, she seemed happy to let him arrange her into his side and stroke her.
"You know," he said teasingly, "we should probably fix those jeans of yours!"
With a horrified gasp, she looked down and realised that her jeans were still around her lower thighs, and that he'd cuddled her to him in such a way that she hadn't even noticed the restriction on her movement. Flushing, she realised that her stained, wet panties were completely exposed to him.
"Hey," he said, not wanting her to withdraw from him now. "Let's go and get you cleaned up and you can always put on one of my shirts if it'll be more comfortable for you."
After a pause, she nodded and tried to stand up, but the tangle of her jeans hampered her movements. Smiling, he just said, "Still trust me?"
She nodded again. He swiftly tugged the jeans the rest of the way down her legs and over her feet, so that she was left in just her slim-fitting shirt and panties.
He got up and stood in front of her, holding out his hand to help her up from the sofa. When she didn't take it, he frowned down at her and found that she was staring, transfixed, at the obvious bulge in his own jeans.
"Oh Alex," she said, clearly troubled, "I don't know what came over me. I... I didn't even think about you! Let me," she reached out to touch him through his jeans, her intentions clear.
"No, Bel," he said firmly.
"But, what about you?"
"Tonight wasn't about me," he said, drawing her up from the sofa so that she was standing in front of him and he could hold her in his arms again. "Tonight was about you. Of course being so intimate with you was going to have consequences for me, but I knew that. I'm an adult, Bel, I can cope with it."
"But it's not fair—"
"Enough, Bel," he said firmly, and tapped her bottom with his hand, making her jump, "don't push me on this. It's early days for us. I want you to have pleasure, to know how good it can be between us, but I don't want to rush things. I want you to have time to figure things out in your head. Okay?"
Astonished at his words, having never been with a man who would deny his own pleasure for her sake, she nodded, clearly taken aback but not able to come up with any argument to counter what he had said, when he was so obviously putting her interests and well being first.
Taking his hand, she let him lead her upstairs to the bathroom. He placed a flannel under warm water and, perching her on the edge of the bathtub, removed her sodden panties and gently washed her. Then he presented her with a new toothbrush, pressing a kiss to lips. "I'll give you a couple of minutes and then I'll be back with one of my shirts, okay?"
Mutely, she watched him retreat from the room, amazed that she hadn't even been embarrassed at how he had washed her, and curious as to whether he expected her to stay the night with him. Quickly, she brushed her teeth and, finding another flannel, washed her face.
She heard a soft knock on the bathroom door, before he entered with a clean shirt in his hands, and looked at her approvingly.
"I found this for you. I thought it might be a bit more comfy for you."
"You want me to stay here tonight?" she asked, as nervous as a young kitten, not sure which of the two possible answers would be better.
He sighed and came up to her to cuddle her to him, "I know I said I don't want to rush you, Bel, and that's true. But, I saw how unnerved you were at first over what happened between us tonight, and I don't want you going home by yourself to worry about things. I want you here with me so that, if you're worried, I'm by your side and we can talk about things. Does that sound okay?"
A smile tugged at her lips and, rising up on her toes, she kissed him. "That sounds just perfect, Alex." She let him usher her to bed, where she curled up next to him, secure in his arms, and drifted to sleep quicker than she could ever remember.
* * *
The next couple of weeks passed in a haze for Isabelle. Alex had, quite simply, dominated her life, calling her or seeing her practically each day, whether it was to take her to the theatre, out for lunch or dinner or simply to call and ask how her day was and how her writing was progressing. She felt, she admitted to herself, almost cherished but, strangely, not overwhelmed. Usually, if a man tried to lavish so much attention on her, Isabelle instinctively pushed back, feeling fenced in and swamped by the pressure. With Alex, however, she felt, well, practically glowing. Even her writing had turned a corner and in the last couple of weeks she'd made more progress than she had in months.
However, as she sat at her desk in the spare bedroom of her apartment, which she had turned into her office and workroom, she stared pensively at her laptop, her mind wandering aimlessly. She couldn't keep the nagging doubts from her mind. Although all his actions spoke of a man who was, she supposed, deliberately and methodically courting her, she couldn't dispel the worry that physically he just wasn't as interested in her as she had first thought. Since that initial night, when she'd woken up the next morning to find herself curled up contentedly into his side, his arms protectively around her, he'd barely touched her.
Each evening they went out, or even if they stayed home at his house, with him cooking dinner and them watching a movie, he insisted on taking her home at the end of the evening. Sure, they'd indulged in some amazing, drawn-out kisses, but they'd just served to make her desperate for more. But even though she'd done almost everything except literally throw herself at the man, he hadn't taken her up on her blatant hints. He was utterly uncompromising.
Certainly, she was frustrated. The spanking he had given her had awakened a response in her that she had never imagined. Although she still wasn't convinced about the other type of spanking he had described to her, the sort that didn't involve so much pleasure, she figured she could definitely deal with this kind! Except, of course, that he hadn't let her. In the long, passionate embraces they had shared since, she'd expected that he might repeat what he'd done to her that first night, but he'd shown no such inclination, and he definitely hadn't allowed her to explore his body further, each time she'd tried he'd just captured her hands in one of his and gently moved them back to her sides, so that he could kiss her more, but preventing her hands from wandering as she would have liked.
With a frown, Isabelle closed her laptop and rubbed her eyes wearily. Last night she hadn't slept well, her dreams tormenting her with thoughts of Alex and the pleasure they had shared, but tempered by the doubts and insecurities that she couldn't stop bubbling up in her subconscious.
Rising up slowly from her desk, she wandered through to her bedroom. They had plans to go to the cinema that night and Alex was due to pick her up in an hour or so. She'd told him she could just meet him at the cinema but he'd frowned and told her not to be silly, and her apartment was on the way from his house to the cinema anyway. She guessed that if it were a pleasant evening, weather wise, they'd take a slow stroll to the cinema. Maybe she could talk to him about her feelings as they walked. It was odd; Alex had always been her confidante, and now that he was back in London she instinctively wanted to turn to him with her uncertainties and concerns, but it somehow didn't feel as easy when he was the source of those uncertainties!
Knowing that the more she thought about things, the more likely she was to be running late when Alex arrived, she quickly pulled a pretty dress out of her wardrobe and headed to the shower.
As the doorbell rang, Isabelle was just sliding a clasp into her long hair and so, rather than buzzing Alex up, she just grabbed her jacket and purse and ran down the stairs, flinging open the door and greeting Alex with a huge hug.
"Hey!" he laughed, as she gradually untangled her arms from around his neck, "You okay?"
"Hmmm," she murmured, her head still buried in his chest. She looked up at him, "Yeah, I'm fine, just in a funny mood for no reason..."
He looked a bit concerned but let it go and, as they slowly strolled down the road in the direction of the cinema, they talked easily about their days. Bel knew that Alex had been particularly worried over one of his patients at
the hospital, a young girl, only 8 years old, who had needed a heart transplant but whose body wasn't accepting the donor organ as well as it should. Thankfully, it sounded like today things were looking a bit better for young Sarah and she was beginning to respond well.
Isabelle squeezed his hand as they walked along and, randomly, asked if he'd yet met Jamie, Tom's younger brother who was also a doctor in one of the big hospitals in London.
"Not yet," he said, "although Lily emailed a couple of days ago and suggested that we all get together. If she does arrange something, she said she'd invite Jamie as well. Although he's based at a different hospital, there's often overlap where we transfer patients for treatment, so it would be good to meet him."
"Lily knows you're back?" she asked, a bit taken aback. She'd been so wrapped up in her own thoughts recently that she'd deliberately put off telling her sisters about Alex's return, as she wasn't sure she was quite ready to tell them that their relationship had moved on from one of platonic friendship.
"It looks that way!" He grinned. "I guess news travels fast. You didn't tell her, then?"
"No," she said hesitantly. He gave her a questioning glance. She took a deep breath and added, "I guess I wasn't quite ready to answer questions about whether I'd seen you yet. As soon as I tell Lily, then she'll start to ask more questions and she'll probably make her own assumptions about what's going on between us..."
"Hmmm, would that be so bad?"
"Well, no, but I wasn't sure if you wanted it to be public knowledge or not yet, either?"
"I don't mind at all." He laughed at her worried expression. "Why would I want to hide it, Bel? Although," he added in all seriousness, "I can see that you might want to tell your sisters in your own time. As soon as you tell Lily, then Meg and Elise will all know within ten minutes!"
As the truth of his words struck her, Bel laughed. He was right; there was very little that was kept secret between the sisters. Although they were all quite different, they were a close knit group and shared most of what was going on in their lives, unless there was a really good reason not to.
Isabelle's Story, A Bentley Sisters Novel Page 3