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“I am, Emma. I am going to spank you, but if you think a spanking is about a fast and hard punishment, then I don’t know why you’d even want it, aside from proving a point. We aren’t proving a point.”
“This is me trusting you, Jax, and I do not trust easily.”
“Trust is not submission. It’s about you knowing, absolutely knowing, I won’t take you any place you don’t want to go and that if I read you wrong, you know that I’ll listen if you say no, and I will stop. Because I don’t get to do anything you don’t let me do. And I don’t want to do anything,I won’tdo anything, that isn’t for your pleasure. This is us. We define us.”
“Yes,” she whispers. “We define us.”
“Good. Don’t move your hands, or I will punish you.”
“Punish me?” She gives a nervous laugh. “How?”
“How Emma?”
“Spank me?” she asks, her raspy voice a sexy and somehow sweet play on my nerve endings. God, I want this woman. Over and over and fucking over.
“Or maybe I’ll just stop doing what you want me to keep doing. Don’t—”
“Move my hands.”
I study her a moment, searching her face in the dim light, ensuring she’s ready for this, that she wants this, that there’s no hesitation in her. Nerves, yes. I see those in her eyes. I feel those radiating off of her, but not fear or hesitation. I lean in and kiss her and then release her hands. Mine travel down her arms and slowly find her breasts, my fingers teasing her nipples until my tongue replaces them. She arches into each lick and suckle and I take my time, teasing her nipples, teasing her, because a spanking isn’t about the spanking. It’s about knowing it’s coming, the anticipation burning you alive. It’s about wanting it and dreading it and wanting it all over again.
“Jax,” she whispers, and then her hand is in my hair.
I catch it, and I press it back to the mattress. “I said don’t move. One warning. That’s all you get.”
“I want to touch you.”
“And you will. Soon. Don’t move, Emma. Because when you do, I will stop what I’m doing, turn you over and spank you now instead of later.” I kiss her, and it’s no gentle kiss. It’s rough and demanding, and when I tear my mouth from hers, a sound of frustration leaves her lips.
“Just spank me now.”
“Not a chance in hell, baby.”
“Jax—”
I kiss her again, my lips lingering above hers. “What are you thinking about?”
“You spanking me.”
“What else?”
“Nothing. Nothing else. Well, that and how much I want to touch you.”
“Exactly. That’s what a spanking is all about, Emma. Escape. Now, don’t touch me until I tell you that you can touch me.”
It’s then that I admit that, yes, I do want her submission. I want her to burn alive for me. I want her to do anything I say just to get more. I want her to want me that badly, but I also want so much more from Emma Knight. I want her to be mine and the fact that she was willing to walk away, to leave tonight, says she isn’t mine at all.
And damn it, I’m going to change that.
Chapter ninety-three
Emma
Don’t touch him.
That is no easy task when my body is on fire and my belly trembling with his lips that are now pressed there. Iwantto touch him. God, how I want to touch him. His tongue teases my delicate skin, and even as it does, he settles lower on the mattress, his shoulders between my thighs. His mouth moves lower, and he widens my legs. My sex clenches almost painfully with how badly I want him in that most intimate part of me. He knows, too. I feel it. I can feel him willing me to do what he wants and what he wants is for me to touch him, so he can spank me.
And as he predicted it would be: I both want that spanking and dread it.
