Page 103 of Possessive Ink

My lips are spread into a shit-eating grin as I leave the closet and head into the kitchen. If I hadn’t already been head over heels in love with Lemon before, I would be now. Impact play has never really been my thing, but having her put herself over my lap so I could spank her until her pussy was wet and her ass was hot and red was invigorating.

My dick is hard, but I’ll live with the ache, the same way I’m making Lemon deal with the need I’m confident she’ll be feeling all day. I still don’t want to spend hours without her, but knowing she’ll be thinking about me every time her dress touches her ass makes the separation a little easier to take.

I’m just putting the first pancake onto the griddle when she steps out of our bedroom in a dress that would easily fit in at the Renaissance fair. The skirt is pink and straight, but with two splits that part and expose her sexy legs when she moves. The top is white with long flowy sleeves, and a pink brocade-style corset over the top that cinches at the back, pushing her perfect fucking tits so high they’re almost touching her chin.

On anyone else it’d look like a costume, but on Lemon, with her perfect face and head of blonde bouncy curls, she looks incredible, like a modern-day sexy Maid Marian.

“Jesus, Princess, you look amazing,” I praise, eating her up with my eyes.

“Do you think this is okay? I don’t want to look overdressed. But as you’ve hidden my panties again, I didn’t want to risk wearing any of my shorter dresses.”

“I haven’t hidden them. I’ve thrown them out,” I tell her smugly as I flip the pancakes over.

Rolling her eyes, she ignores me, smoothing the front of her dress down self-consciously.

“Princess, you look amazing, and Tori won’t care what you’re wearing.”

“I just don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard on my first day, especially when your sister is my new boss.”

Lifting the cooked pancakes onto a plate, I move the pan off the heat and close the distance between us, pulling her into my arms and grabbing and squeezing her butt.

“Hey,” she squeaks.

“There it is,” I growl against her ear. “That’s where I want your mind…focused on me.”

“God, why does it burn more now than when you were doing it?” she asks as I grip and squeeze her ass firmly.

“It’ll stay hot and achy for a few hours, then when the heat starts to fade, it’ll tingle, and you’ll feel it even more. Every time this sexy skirt brushes against your ass, it’ll reignite the heat, and every time you feel it, you’ll think about how you felt being naked and face down over my lap.”

“Atticus,” she says breathily.

Chuckling softly, I squeeze her butt tightly, then release her, stepping back and calmly sliding the pan back onto the heat.

She gets more and more nervous as we eat our breakfast, picking up and putting down her coffee mug twice while she fidgets with her napkin and silverware. When she glances toward the clock on the wall, sheer panic flashes across her face.

Jumping out of her seat, she rushes toward the door. “I need to go,” she says, frantically skidding to a stop, then spinning on her heel and darting back toward the bedroom.

Throwing my arm out, I catch her around the waist as she walks past. “Settle,” I tell her.

“Atticus, I can’t be late on my first day,” she pants, pushing at my hands like she thinks I’ll let her go.

“Princess, it’s going to take us less than five minutes to drive to the store,” I remind her.

“Oh,” she says, deflating, her hands falling to her sides. “I forgot about that.”

Smiling, I bury my face in her neck, inhaling her deliciously sweet scent. “Go and grab your purse and anything else you need, and we’ll head over there.”

Five minutes later, I slow the car to a stop at the curb outside the store.

“Thank you,” she says, unfastening her seat belt and reaching for the door handle.

“Stop,” I growl, reaching over and covering her hand with mine. “Wait.”

Like she needed me to help her calm down, she exhales shakily, then nods, keeping her hands in her lap while I slip out of the driver’s seat and make my way to her door. Helping her out of the car, I close her door behind me, then sling my arm over her shoulders and start to guide her toward the store.

“Atticus, I can’t have my boyfriend walk me to the door on my first day. It makes me look like a child,” I tell him.

“Fiancé,” I correct. “And this is my sister’s store. I can’t just wave you off without going in to say hi to her.”