She shoved away the deep well of sorrow that threatened to steal the moment from her. She could cry and worry later. For now, she needed this. He’d never been anything but honest with her in bed. She could see that now. Sex was where that dark part of Henry got unleashed.
Nell turned and put her hands flat on the bed. She spread her legs because she knew the drill. He would spank her and touch her and make her crazy. He would have her begging, and she would be happy to do it.
She felt his hand cup her ass and squeeze lightly.
“When I get back, we’re going to talk. We can’t go on like this.”
He wasn’t wrong. She found herself in an odd place she couldn’t seem to force herself out of. She couldn’t simply break things off with him. That wasn’t what she wanted at all, but she also couldn’t go back to the way things had been. So she stayed silent.
The first slap of his hand made her gasp. It had been months since they’d truly played, months of worry and anxiety where they hadn’t connected in the way that always felt best.
He spanked her again, a bit harder this time. She’d come to crave this kind of play. Henry had made her crave it, made her crave him.
Her hands curled around the comforter as he spanked her, peppering the flesh of her ass and lighting up her skin. He was careful, but then he always was. Henry was always in control when they played.
He smacked her ass and she breathed through the pain, allowing it to morph into heat and pleasure. This was what she needed to feel complete, to bring the two sides of herself together.
She would be so lonely when he was gone.
Another smack and she could feel the tears pulse.
Henry’s hand cupped her, holding the heat against her skin. “Spread your legs wider.”
She whimpered because she knew what he was going to do and she wanted it. She moved her feet further apart, holding onto the end of the bed and offering her husband access to her tender flesh.
She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out when she felt the first touch of his hand between her legs. She could feel him standing behind her, two big fingers delving into her pussy and drawing out the arousal he found there.
“You didn’t seem to get the point of my discipline, sweetheart. It’s supposed to be punishment.”
God, she loved it when he played like this, when his voice went deep and he acted out his fantasies with her.
“It hurts, Sir,” she replied, sinking into her role.
“Where does it hurt?”
That finger of his was so close to her clit and the ring she had in her hood. All he would have to do was toy with that ring and she would go off like a rocket.
But he was a cruel Dom and he knew her body well. The finger dipped inside her briefly before stroking her labia, not even coming close to her clit.
“A little higher, Sir.”
This was the game. He liked to hear her cry and beg, and something about his denial made the eventual orgasm so much stronger.
He stepped back. “I think you’re trying to take something that should only be mine to give, brat.” This smack was hard and made her clench her teeth. “I think you need something more than a spanking. Don’t move or I’ll start again.”
Damn him. He was going to drag it out, make her wait. He was going to remind her that he was in charge and she got nothing until he was ready to give it to her.
She heard him moving behind her. The bathroom door opened and she wondered what he was going to do to her. Anticipation was all part of the game, but so was this terrible mind fuck he loved so much. He wouldn’t tell her what he was going to do. He would simply do it and she would go through the experience. She would let go of the control she felt she needed ninety-nine percent of the time.
She took a deep breath and listened to the water come on in the bathroom, felt the air on her skin, the ache in her ass.
“Have I ever told you what seeing you this way makes me feel?” Henry asked, his voice dark and deep.
She wished she could tell him not to talk, that she didn’t want to listen to him say what he loved about her. It would be disrespectful to their roles in the moment. She could use her safe word and stop the scene, but she couldn’t take control of it and get her way. In that he had her in a corner. She wasn’t willing to stop the scene. She wanted the physical, and that meant she had to take the words he would say since they hadn’t exactly laid this out.
She loved his words. One of the reasons he worked for her as a Dom was the fact that he loved to talk while they played, loved to tell her she was beautiful and how much she moved him. Those words connected them every bit as much as the sex did.
“It makes me feel like I’m worthy,” he admitted, moving in behind her again. “You are such an independent woman, and the fact that you trust me enough to give this part of our lives into my hands makes me feel more powerful than any mission.”
She wasn’t going to listen. The words could be said, but that didn’t mean she had to let them sink into her soul the way she normally did.
“I can see you thinking, my love. You think if I lied about one thing, why couldn’t I lie about this? If the premise of the love story is a lie, doesn’t the whole thing fall apart?”
She felt a hand on her backside, pulling her cheeks apart, and she whimpered. He was going there?
