Her breath catches as she slips her fingers inside the waist of her panties. But after exhaling shakily, she pushes them down.
She steps away from her garments, and she faces me, bare.
Firelight dances across her skin, highlighting the gentle swell of her breasts, the taut line of her stomach, the soft triangle between her thighs. Goose bumps prickle along her arms, and her pink, pert nipples tighten under my gaze.
Without me needing to prompt her, she lowers herself to the blanket, parting her knees wide and placing her hands behind her neck.
Then the little submissive arches her back just a couple of inches, seeming to offer herself to me.
“So brave.”
Her chest rises and falls with quick, shallow breaths, and I see the pulse fluttering at her throat.
She’s stunning like this—vulnerable, open, yet so strong in her surrender. The ultimate submissive paradox.
I come in closer and crouch in front of her so that we are eye to eye. I’m close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body. “Were you given permission to break position earlier?” My voice is low, deliberate, each word measured to sink into her.
Truthfully I need the reminder as well.
All I want to do is kiss her, hold her, make sweet love to her until she can no longer remember her name.
“Allie?”
She shakes her head, a small, jerky motion, and she glances away.
“Your focus is supposed to be on me.”
At my reminder, she returns her gaze to mine. And damn, I could get lost in the depths of her wide blue eyes. “Answer my question. Did you have permission to grab hold of my thighs when you were sucking me off?”
A flush creeps up her cheeks. “No. I didn’t.”
Not allowing her to look away, I correct her. “No. You didn’t. Sir.”
Her response is immediate and perfect, her echo soft and clear. “No. You didn’t give me permission to grab your thighs, Sir.”
The sound of the honorific on her lips sends a rush of heat through me.
My cock pulses against my sweatpants. I straighten, towering over her, and let the silence stretch, letting her feel the weight of what we’re sharing. “What do you think is an appropriate punishment, Allie?”
Her lips part, but no words come at first.
Then she shifts slightly, her thighs trembling, and I can see the effort it takes her to hold position. “I’m new at this,” she reminds me, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t…” She clears her throat. “I don’t have any ideas.”
I tilt my head, studying her. The flush creeping up her neck, the way her fingers tighten behind her head—she’s nervous, but there’s a spark in her eyes, a curiosity she can’t hide. “None at all?” I drop my voice to a dangerous purr. “Not even one, single idea? Things you hope I’ll do?”
Her cheeks bloom with color, a deep pink that spreads down her chest, and she bites her lower lip, her teeth pressing into the soft flesh.
The sight makes my mouth water, my fingers itching to touch her.
She hesitates, then nods, almost imperceptibly. “I thought… Wondered… Ah, maybe another spanking?” Her voice is so quiet that I have to lean in to catch it. “But…” She swallows. “Like a real one. Not, just… You know? Part of other fun.”
My world twists sideways.
The admission lights me up, a fire sparking in my veins. I’ve been imagining her over my lap since the moment she grabbed my thighs earlier, defying my orders with that bold, needy gesture.
My cock throbs, and I have to force myself to stay still, to keep control. “Good girl,” I murmur, waiting a moment for my approval to sink into her. “That’s exactly what you’re going to get.”
I sit on the couch, patting my thigh, the motion deliberate, inviting. “Over my lap, Allie.” Where you belong regularly.
