Page 69 of Thor

"Mandy," Thor's voice was soft but commanding. "Look at me, princess."

I shook my head against the bed, too embarrassed to face him. His hand moved from my lower back to stroke my hair, gentle as could be.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," he continued, his fingers carding through my hair. "That was fucking beautiful."

Beautiful? I wanted to disappear into the mattress. This wasn't what we'd agreed to. He was supposed to discipline me, not watch me have some kind of weird pain-gasm while humping his leg like a dog in heat.

I felt him shift beneath me, strong hands moving to my waist as he carefully turned me over. I let him maneuver me, still not meeting his eyes as he gathered me into his arms and settled me sideways across his lap, cradling me against his broad chest. My ass stung as it made contact with his thigh, a reminder of what had just happened.

One large hand cupped my chin, tilting my face up. "Look at me," he said again, this time with a note of steel in his voice that brooked no argument.

Slowly, reluctantly, I lifted my gaze to his. I expected to see disgust, or maybe amusement at my expense. What I saw instead took my breath away.

Thor's blue eyes were dark with desire, pupils blown wide. There was no judgment there, no mockery. Only heat and something that looked a lot like awe.

"Do you have any idea how fucking hot that was?" he asked, his voice rough.

I blinked, confused by his reaction. "You're not . . . grossed out?"

He let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-groan. "Grossed out? Jesus, princess. I'm so turned on right now I can barely think straight."

As if to prove his point, he shifted slightly, and I felt the unmistakable ridge of his erection pressing against my hip. Hard evidence, so to speak, that he'd enjoyed the show.

"But it's not normal," I protested weakly. "People don't usually . . ."

"You think I’m intonormal?" he interrupted, his thumb brushing across my lower lip. "Normal is boring. What just happened between us? That was special. Rare. A gift."

A gift. I let the word sink in, trying to see what had happened from his perspective. I'd been completely vulnerable, completely at his mercy. And in that vulnerability, my body had responded in the most honest way possible. There was no faking an orgasm like that, no pretending.

"I didn't know that could happen," I admitted, my voice small.

His expression softened, the hunger in his eyes tempered by tenderness. "Neither did I. But I'm glad it did." His hand moved to cup my cheek. "You were so beautiful, Mandy. So open. So responsive. So . . . mine."

That last word sent a shiver through me, a fresh wave of heat that had nothing to do with my stinging backside. Mine. Like I belonged to him. And in that moment, sprawled across his lap, having just come harder than I ever had in my life from nothing but his hand on my ass and his voice in my ear, it was hard to argue with that assessment.

"You're not mad?" I asked, needing the reassurance.

Thor's lips quirked in a half-smile that made my heart skip. "Mad that the woman I'm crazy about just had a mind-blowing orgasm because of something I did to her? Yeah, I'm fucking furious."

The sarcasm broke through the last of my embarrassment, and I felt a reluctant smile tug at my lips. "When you put it that way . . ."

His hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. "The only thing that matters is how you feel. Was it good for you?"

Was it good? It was earth-shattering. Life-altering. I'd never experienced anything like it—not just the physical pleasure, but the emotional release that came with it. The feeling of surrendering completely to someone else's control and finding freedom in that surrender.

"Yes," I whispered. "It was . . . I don't even have words."

He nodded, satisfaction evident in the slight upturn of his lips. "Good. Because that's what this is about. Your pleasure. Your needs." His fingers tightened slightly in my hair. "I told you from the beginning—this isn't about punishment. It's about giving you what you need."

I stared up at him, suddenly overwhelmed by how thoroughly he seemed to understand me. He'd known what I needed before I did. Had seen parts of me I hadn't even recognized in myself.

As I nestled against Thor's chest, the afterglow of my unexpected orgasm still humming through my veins, I became increasingly aware of something else: the rigid line of his arousal pressed against my hip. It wasn't subtle—nothing about Thor was subtle—and the knowledge that he was this hard, this turned on just from spanking me, sent a renewed surge of heat between my legs. I shifted slightly, testing the waters, and felt him tense beneath me, his breath catching in a way that made me feel suddenly, gloriously powerful.

He was aroused because of me. Because of my reactions. Because of what we'd shared.

His hand continued its soothing strokes along my back, but there was an edge to his movements now, a tightly coiled restraint that hadn't been there before. Thor was holding back, focusing on my comfort rather than his own need. The realization struck me like a bolt of lightning—he was taking care of me, putting my needs first, even when he was clearly aching for release.

I'd never had that before. Never had someone who cared more about my pleasure than their own. The thought made my chest tight with emotion and ignited a fierce determination within me. I wanted to give back. Needed to.

---