Page 69 of Sharing Shane

Her tongue flicked out to lick her lips, making his dick jump. “What kind of something?”

“A spanking something,” he said and watched with fascination as her whole face went bright red.

“I’m not really into BDSM,” she told him breathlessly, her face flaming.

He shrugged. “Me neither. I’m not talking about an over-the-knee paddling. I’m talking about one swat, right here.” He tapped her right butt cheek.

“One?”

“One,” he assured her.

She licked her lips again. “Okay. One.”

He raised his hand slightly, no more than six inches above her butt, and lowered it again in a short slap. Her ass jiggled under the impact and the sound cracked through the room, and a faint red mark bloomed on her smooth skin. But it was the look on her face that held him captive.

It was a look of pure, carnal delight. Her eyes were unfocused, her lips parted on a startled moan. Then they curled faintly at the edges and her eyes refocused on his, shining with giddy delight.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“Good?” he asked,

She nodded. “Can you do the other side? You know, for balance.”

“Balance is important,” he agreed and repeated the short smack on the other side, She wiggled and blushed, her reaction feeding his lust, and he was suddenly desperate to be inside her.

He gave her cheeks another squeeze. “Condom,” he reminded her.

“Right. Condom.” She began digging in the bag again, her movements jerky. “It’s your fault for distracting me.”

“It’s your fault,” he corrected.

She sat up, a strip of condoms in one hand, the bottle of lube in the other, and outrage on her face. “How?”

“You put this delicious ass in my face,” he reminded her and squeezed the ass in question one more time before she spun around to crawl back on top of him.

“Compliments will get you fucked,” she said breathlessly, straddling his thighs, and tore a condom off the strip. “Here.”

He took it from her and ripped off the wrapper. “Hand me the lube?”

She handed it over, watching with curious eyes as he squeezed a drop onto the ruddy head of his penis.

“What’s that for?” she asked, taking the bottle back.

“Makes it feel good,” he replied, rolling the latex down his shaft. “Want some on the outside?”

She nodded and poured a small puddle into her hand before clicking the lid back on the bottle and tossing it aside. She wrapped her palm around the base of his dick and stroked upward, her fingers slippery and sure.

He gritted his teeth because the feel and the look of her hand on him were ridiculously hot, and he was close enough to the edge as it was. When he was shiny and slick, he pulled her hand away. “Enough.”

“You are all about killing my fun tonight,” she scolded, and he opened his mouth to retort when she lifted up and impaled herself on him in one smooth motion. The words fell away, and all that came out of his mouth was a strangled groan when her wet heat swallowed him whole.

“Oh,” she breathed and wiggled. “You feel so thick.”

He clamped his hands onto her hips, desperate to keep her still. He was right on the edge, that feathery sensation crawling up his spine and down his balls, but he didn’t want to come yet. “How close are you?”

“I’m not,” she told him, a faint, knowing smile curling her lips. “How close are you?”

“Right on the edge,” he managed, panting with the effort of holding back. “Shit, sorry.”

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