Instead, he waited.
He waited because he knew I could—wouldsay it these days. Sure, my self-esteem had been slowly chugging along in an upward trajectory all these months, but what had really put life into perspective for me was that extremely real heart-to-heart I’d had with my own mortality. Sex with someone you love was so… life-affirming. It simply wasn’t the time to let hang-ups and old embarrassments get the best of me.
Not anymore.
Not ever again.
“Cal….”
“Say it,” he ordered.
“Spank me.”
Whack.
I moaned loudly, no consideration given to the mirrored loft of 4A on the other side of the wall. 4A hadn’t liked me since the Moving Image case, when JD Malory and I had fallen through his open door and landed on top of him during a scuffle. There wasn’t any face left to save, so whatever. I was going to be loud.
I pushed up on my knees a bit, raising my ass. “Ah—again. Spank me again.”
Calvin hit the other cheek. He repeated the action several times, with sharp, fast strokes that left my ass tingling and burning. It wasn’tpainpain—not the traditional sensation, anyway. There was certainly an element of uncomfortableness to having your ass spanked, but with it was such a powerful release of endorphins, arousal, and the realization that, whatever the hell it was I seemed to get out of this sexual punishment, Calvin got the same in giving it to me.
A perfect partnership.
“Oh my God,” I cried. I pushed my hips back down, thrusting hard against the mattress and shuddering. I felt like every single molecule in my body was buzzing with stimulation.
“Feel good?” Calvin asked, a smile in his voice.
“Y-yes,” I mumbled into the pillows.
He grabbed my hips and hoisted me back up on my knees. Calvin spread my cheeks apart and licked me, hard and fierce.
I moaned loudly and fisted the sheets.
Whack.
I gasped. “C-Cal!”
Whack.
“Holy fuck! Again—please!”
Calvin let up, breathing heavily. He smoothed his palm over both asscheeks and then smacked.
Harder.
A lot harder.
One more of those and I’d actually come from this and nothing more.
But Calvin stopped touching me.
I looked over my shoulder and shoved my glasses up my nose with one hand. “Why’d you stop?” I sounded desperate and didn’t even care.
“Because I don’t want you finished and spent yet.” Calvin uncapped the lube and coated his fingers in a generous portion. He reached forward and pressed his middle finger in to the knuckle. “You’ve got the tightest ass….”
I swallowed and rocked back into his touch as Calvin added a second finger. “You like it?” I asked, voice dropping a bit quieter.
Calvin growled, a dangerous combination of playfulness and possessiveness. “Oh yeah.” He leaned over, grabbed the collar of my shirt, and pulled me up enough so that we could kiss. He let go after a moment, removed his fingers, and tore open the condom package.
