Page 291 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
I gasp, clenching the sheets. “Oh, Hart—”
“You’re soaked,” he mutters against my ear.
His fingers press harder, teasing me, then pulling back just as his palm comes down on my ass again. The mix of pain and desperate pleasure makes me whimper.
“Say it,” he demands, his voice low, and I love the dominating control behind it. “Say you like it.”
“I—” A moan tears through me as his hand smacks down again. “I love it.”
His mouth is on my neck, hot and wet, kissing, biting, soothing the sting even as his palm keeps its pace behind me.
Smack. Smack.
Every sound echoes against my moans.
I tremble now, clutching at the sheets, my body arching into him without thought.
“Can’t believe this is what it does to you,” he growls against my ear. “You’re fucking vibrating.”
“Don’t stop.” My voice is broken and needy.
The next smack comes with his fingers plunging inside me. The sting and stretch collide until I’m crying out his name.
“That’s it.” His fingers drive into me faster as he spanks me harder. “Take it. Take all of it.”
The coil in my stomach tightens and splinters in a burst of molten heat. My toes curl, fingers clutching the sheets, and I shiver through my entire body. Each strike, each stroke of his fingers, pushes me higher, until my body is trembling, hard and hot, overwhelming, and riding the sting and the pleasure together.
I collapse against the bed, chest heaving, still tingling from the aftershocks. His hands hover for a moment, steadying,soothing, letting me feel the warmth of him even as my body slowly unravels.
“That was fucking hot,” he murmurs, voice low and satisfied, lips brushing my ear as I catch my breath.
And all I can do is, still riding the lingering heat, realizing I never expected to love it this much—but I do.
Every single second.
He presses a kiss to the small of my back, then drags his lips across the marks he left. “I didn’t hurt you too much, did I?”
“Not at all,” I breathe. “I loved it.”
He chuckles, a low, satisfied sound, and rubs the stinging spots with tender pressure. “You’re a little firecracker,” he says, smirking. “Gonna make me want to do this again.”
I turn onto my back. “We can reverse roles.”
49: SPANKED BY THE CLIPBOARD: TAKE TWO
HART
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I HESITATE AS memories of the last time flicker in my mind. But those memories are nothing like what we just shared. And when I see the mischievous grin on her lips, the trust, the love, my body responds.
I want this.
I want her in control.
I reach out and hand her the clipboard, my fingers brushing hers.
“Use it however you like.” I try to sound braver than I feel.
