I hit him harder—a promise, a punishment for making me lose sight of my goals, of my plans.
For causing me so much trouble.
“Damn, you and those hands,” he says, rolling off me and rubbing at his tender skin. “And what do you mean, we can work with that? What’s that mean?”
I stand up, adjusting myself discreetly, my eyes landing on his pretty pink ass.
I did that.
I made his ass blush.
But I say nothing about it, just move into the bedroom without a word. I know he’s going to follow.
He always does.
“You going to explain?” he asks, folding his arms over his chest and watching me gather my clothes and set them on the dresser.
God, the way I want to fall to my knees for him. To worship at the altar of him. But we don’t have time. Right?
“You should shower before they come back,” I say once more. Not that he’s going to listen.
“You and your showers. What if I want to smell like sex for the rest of the day? Would that gross you out?”
My cheeks redden at that, my breath coming out in small pants. I normally wouldn’t like it, but I’d like it on him.
“Come on, Whit. Give it to me.”
The way he breathes that, begging, has me snapping slightly.
“Fine, you asked for it, Caleb. On the bed. Ass up.”
He stares at me, his mouth parted, his eyebrows rising. But he does what I ask him to. He climbs up on the bed, his balls swinging between his legs, his beautiful back arched up.
That cock dripping onto the bed.
“What you going to do?” he asks, peering over his shoulder at me. My hand runs along his ass slowly, feeling the way it flexes under my palm.
The way I’m going to make him moan. The way I’m going to make him beg for more.
Without warning, my palm falls on his ass with a loud slap, my hand stinging from the strength of it.
He lurches forward, a grunt escaping his lips.
“What the hell, Whit?” he murmurs, glowering back at me. But he goes ignored. He asked for it, and I’ll deliver what I promised.
My dad taught me that much.
My hand lands on his other ass cheek, and the jiggle it gives is so fucking hot my cock leaks.
“You look good, submissive like this,” I say softly, before letting my hand fall again.
It strikes over and over, my palm throbbing with the way it lands on his beautiful skin, the way those globes turn a darker pink with each slap, the way he moans for more.
The way he begs, whispering my name.
A plea.
“Whit. Whit. More. More.”
