Page 51 of Surrender to Me
My heart hammers as the word once again echoes in my head. I’m sure he means it in a reassuring way, but to me it’s a warning. He wants me to let him into places I’ve always kept people out of.
For now, for bedroom antics, I’m fine with that. But he gets nothing beyond that.
“Allie?” he prompts.
I exhale. Allie. He doesn’t even know my real name. How dangerous can he be? “I’ll go with red. That’s the most common one, isn’t it?” Well, it had been the one a heroine chose in my favorite book.
“Yellow to slow down?”
He’s wasting my time with all these questions, but I don’t tell him that. “That’s fine,” I say instead.
“Use your safe words at any time.” He traces the edge where my thigh meets my ass, sending sparks straight to my core. “I won’t stop otherwise.”
Good.
I shift, but before I can settle, he resumes, the swats coming in a steady rhythm now, each one building on the last.
The sting sharpens, heat spreading like fire under my skin, but it’s intoxicating, this mix of vulnerability and power. I wiggle against him, my hips shifting instinctively, chasing the sensation even as my mind screams that I should fight it.
He chuckles low in his throat, the sound wrapping around me like a restraint. “You like this, don’t you? Remember earlier, when I had you over my shoulder? That little swat I gave you—you squirmed just like this. Moaned a little too.”
“No!” The protest bursts out, automatic, heat flooding my face. I didn’t—did I? The memory blurs with the adrenaline of the chase, but his words stir heat deep inside me.
“You, sweetheart, are a little liar.” His voice drops, edged with amusement and something darker, and the next swat lands harder, the crack echoing in the room.
I yelp, the sting sharper, blooming into a deep, throbbing ache that makes me clench, my arousal slick between my thighs. He doesn’t let up, delivering a few more in quick succession, each one harsher, pushing me to the edge where pain twists into pleasure.
I’m breathless, spinning.
This is…
I wiggle harder, grinding against his lap without meaning to, my scent filling the air—musky, undeniable evidence of how much I crave this.
God, his spanks are simultaneously too much and not enough. The domestic simplicity of it—him caring for me with chai earlier, now this raw intimacy—clashes with the danger he poses to me, emotionally as well as physically.
I freeze.
“Relax, sweetheart.”
I close my eyes.
Even in intimate moments, I never let go. Not entirely.
But…
For the first time in my life, I’m tempted.
Why not?
Soon I’ll vanish, and I’ll never see him again.
What’s the harm in giving myself over? Just for tonight. Just in the bedroom.
I close my eyes and exhale completely.
“Yeah. That’s it. That’s fucking it.”
Then on and on he goes, his hand marking me, owning me. The world narrows to this bed, this man.
