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As soon as he asked, he wished he hadn’t. Everything about her seemed to simply shut down and close off. Except for her breathing, which was taking on the shallow, erratic quality he recognized as an impending panic attack.
“Hey. It’s okay.” Pushing to his feet, he slowly approached her, making sure to stay where she could easily see him, his hands held up to show he was unarmed as he knelt in front of her. “We don’t have to talk about him. Just breathe, sweetheart.”
To his immense relief, she dragged in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before slowly releasing it. But there was still a sadness in her eyes that nearly broke him. He couldn’t have stopped himself from touching her just then if his life had depended on it.
Lifting his hands to her face, he cupped her cheeks, running the pads of his thumbs across the smooth, perfect skin. And then he broke every rule in the goddamned book.
He kissed her.
Softly, just the barest hint of his lips pressing against hers. But even that simple, sweet touch was enough to have him craving more. It took every ounce of self-control he had to keep it light, to not simply swoop in and claim her the way he so desperately wanted to.
When he lifted his head again, her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at him, something akin to wonder on her face. “Wh-why did you do that?”
He’d been around the block enough to know that telling her he’d kissed her because she’d looked so damn sad wouldn’t go over well, so he simply grinned and shrugged. “Because I wanted to. I should have asked first, though, and I’m sorry for that.”
“No, it’s okay. I-I liked it. I just wasn’t surewhy. I mean—” She let out a short, humorless laugh. “Jesus, I’m a fucking basket case. The most gorgeous man I’ve ever met kisses me and my immediate reaction is to freak out over it.”
“Stop it.” Instinct took over and he tightened his hold on her face, forcing her head back. “You are not a basket case. Keep talking about yourself like that and I’ll—”
He managed to catch himself before the words actually left his mouth this time, but it was clear from the way her eyes widened she knew exactly what he’d been about to say. “You’ll what? Spank me?”
“No.”
“Why not? Isn’t that what you would do if your Little girl broke the rules?”
He hesitated, unsure of just how honest he should be on the heels of a barely thwarted panic attack. “Are you using one of your questions?”
“Yes.” Looking pleased with herself, she lifted her face from his grasp. “So you have to answer.”
“Under most circumstances, yes. And especially for something as serious as talking poorly about herself.”
“Then do it. I want you to.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Why not? You have my full and informed consent. Well, maybe not completely informed since I don’t know exactly what kind of spanking you had in mind. We should talk about that first, right?”
“You’re serious about this? You really want me to spank you?”
“Yes. Please,” she added, seemingly as an afterthought.
Maybe he was going to hell. But he was only human, after all, and every cell in his body was demanding he take her up on her offer. “All right. But there are some ground rules.”
* * *
Maybe it wasn’tthe smartest move to roll her eyes at the man she’d just talked into spanking her, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. “There are always rules with you.”
“Yes, there are. And just like the house rules are there to keep you physically safe, these rules are to keep you both physically and emotionally safe.”
Well, when he put it like that, she couldn’t really argue, could she? “What are the rules?”
He hesitated, and for a long, tense second, she was certain he was about to back out. “Consider this Rule Eight. If at any time I am touching you in a way you are uncomfortable with, even in the middle of a spanking, you will say the word ‘Red’. That’s my cue to stop what we’re doing and talk about it so I know what went wrong and not to do it again.”
“So, a safeword. I’m not a virgin, you know,” she added when his eyebrows winged up in surprise.
Although, if she were being really honest, her knowledge of spankings and safewords had nothing to do with her own experiences. A year ago, she hadn’t had a clue that people lived this way. It hadn’t been until she’d gone out with Shannon and Olivia that she’d learned about Daddies and punishments and all the other deliciously sinful things they’d told her about once they’d gotten a good bit of alcohol in their systems. After that fateful night, she’d done some research of her own, but she’d never actually thought she’d live out the stories she’d devoured those first few weeks.
Until now.
