Page 12 of Redbird

She drags her eyes up to mine, big and glittering in the low light. “Yes, sir, even the other night I felt safe.”

I lift her onto my lap, parting her thighs. “Good, is there anything else?”

She shakes her head. “No, this week was good.”

It was, but I still have to check in with her and give her a safe place to speak up. It’s my responsibility as her Dom to ensure she feels heard.

Now that I know she does, we can move on. We won’t review her behavior tonight. I correct her instantly when she steps out of line so she never has to wait and suffer unnecessarily.

Tonight is for pleasure. To remind us where we stand with each other.

“Get up,” I tell her.

She obeys, climbing off my lap.

“Clothes off.”

She does as she’s told, stripping until her slip and panties are in her hands. I jerk my head to the chair and she goes, folding her things neatly and setting them aside. Her eyes dart up, glittering with sweet shame.

I beckon her to me.

This is when her steps lag. When she knows what comes next, and no matter how many times we’ve done this, it still gives her a thrill of fear.

I know that soft paradise between her thighs is soaked.

I lean back, spreading my knees. Her hands twist together as she approaches. She’s flushed and flustered and I like seeing her broken down. I like shattering her, tasting her vulnerability.

And I love putting her back together when we’re done.

“Over my knee, redbird,” I say.

She obeys, draping her breathtaking body across my lap. Her ass is soft and my fingers dig into the curves of it. Running over and over the swells to bring the blood to the surface and get it moving.

My cock thrums, so hard it hurts, pushing up against her belly.

“This isn’t because you’ve done anything wrong,” I say. “This is to remind you of what you are to me, redbird.”

“I understand, sir,” she gasps.

“And who I am to you.”

“Yes, sir.”

I strike her lightly first, leaving fingerprints where her thigh meets her ass. She keeps quiet. I spank her again, harder. Then I push her right thigh to the side until it’s slightly cocked so it spreads and exposes her swollen pussy.

It’s flushed pink and slick with arousal. It always is after we’ve moved through our rituals. Her body knows what comes next and it’s ready for me.

Using my finger and thumb, I spread her sex open. She quivers as I dip my fingertip inside to check how wet she is, so I can compare when I’m done.

“Clench,” I order.

She obeys, the muscles of her pussy tightening and loosening. I withdraw and put my finger to my lips. Sometimes I swear I can taste her lust, laced like a drug through her wet arousal.

A tremor moves down her thigh. She’s having trouble waiting.

Taking mercy on her, I spank her lightly twice. Both sides so I can watch her skin redden at the same time. After moving through so many Sunday nights with her, I’ve started noticing the tiny details.

The seconds between her breaths.

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