Page 115 of Savage Redemption

He palms my throbbing buttocks for a moment before delivering the third spank, then the fourth.

The slaps are interspersed with a few seconds of sensual fondling as though to soothe my scorched flesh. I sink further into my erotically charged stupor and vaguely wonder what on earth I was so scared of.

“Are you still keeping count?” He interrupts my drift into ecstasy.

Am I? Yes, I think so.“Four,” I manage. “Or was it five?”

“It was four,” he assures me. “Ready to continue?”

“Of course.” I stiffen on his lap, anticipating.

The next two or three slaps send my senses into a spiralling, sensual haze. Coherent thought seems overrated, so I abandon any attempt at such extremes. I simply am.

I float. I drift. I feel.

Long moments pass with no further assault on my overworked nerve endings. I shift against the denim of his jeans, seeking more stimulation. More of everything.

“You can get up now, if you want.”

What? Why?

I turn my head, look up at him.

“We’ve finished. That was ten.”

“No, I was counting.” I feel indignant. Cheated.

“You lost count,cara. At about seven, I think.”

“No, I definitely…”

“If it’s any comfort, most subs don’t get beyond five.”

I peer at him, trying to remember. And what does he mean by sub?

Sub? Submissive? Is that me?

I struggle to right myself. His hands under my shoulders assist me to a sitting position. He settles me on his lap.

“Is that okay? Would you rather lie down? On your stomach, maybe?”

I wriggle against him. The scratching sensation is oddly erotic. A reminder of what just happened, the intimacy, the utter unexpected bizarreness of this entire episode. A burst of pure pleasure erupts, sending a pulse of desire to my core.

“No, I’m good here.” I snuggle against his chest, startled to realise that apart from his shoes, he’s still fully dressed. “What did you…? What did you call me?”

“Cara?”

“No, not that. Sub. You called me sub.”

“Ah, yes. Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset. I’m…”

What? What am I doing? What am I thinking?

“I’m… I’m just acclimatising.” Yes, that’s it. I’m adjusting. This is a new reality, I’m trying it on for size and finding I rather like it.

“Good. Now, about that promise. Your reward for being a good girl.” He stands with me in his arms, takes the couple of strides to reach the bed, and places me on top of the duvet. “Lube still in the drawer?”

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