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“Lia,” he whispered as he stroked her tousled hair. “My sweet, darling Lia.”
She didn’t respond, save for a series of snuffles that he at first thought was just her catching her breath. But then her shoulders began to shake, and he felt the wetness of fresh tears on his chest.
Alarmed, he rolled over, letting his cock slide from her as he pushed her gently onto her back. She turned away, bringing up an arm to hide her face.
He leaned up on his elbow beside her, his heart clutching with worry. “Lia, honey. What is it? Why’re you crying? Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she managed through her weeping. She allowed him to lower her arm so he could see her face. He saw she was smiling, though her tears continued to flow. “You didn’t hurt me. You were amazing. Perfect. And I’m not crying,” she added, her words immediately followed by a hiccupping sob and then a laugh. “Or I guess I am crying, but I’m not sad. I’m happy.”
“Oh, my sweet, darling, crazy girl,” Beau said, relieved and grinning. He wiped away her tears with his thumb. Her skin was hot and flushed but her eyes were sparkling.
She stared up at him, a startled, delighted look moving over her delicate features. “It happened,” she said with wonder in her tone. “It actually happened.”
“What happened?” he asked, bemused.
“It almost didn’t happen,” she added, confusing him. “I was ready to do it—to quit—but then you showed up like some guy in a romance movie. And then it happened.”
“Whatareyou talking about, Magnolia Rose Duvall?” he said, letting a bit of exasperation enter his tone.
“Ugh,” she cried with mock horror. “Don’t call me that.”
“Then tell me what you’re going on about?”
“Lucia is always telling me not to quit before the miracle. I told her I don’t believe in miracles, but here you are, Beauregard Jackson. Living proof that dreams can come true.”
She sat up and reached for him, covering his mouth with hers.
He wrapped his arms around her, their lips still touching. His hands roamed over her slender form, stroking her back and cupping her ass as their kiss deepened.
Then, without warning, he lifted one hand and brought it down with a resounding smack on her ass. Lia mewled in startled surprise against his mouth. He smacked her again, the sound ringing in the air.
She moaned, her body trembling with anticipation as she waited for the next blow.
He obliged. She moaned again and ground her mons against his pubic bone.
“Dirty little slut,” he breathed into her ear, his cock hardening despite the recent orgasm. “You need this, don’t you, slave girl?”
“Yes. Yes, please, Sir,” she panted.
He pressed one hand against the small of her back to keep her still. With his other, he spanked her bottom until it was fiery hot to the touch. He didn’t stop until she went limp against him. He held her until her breathing deepened and her heart slowed its frantic pace.
“Lia,” he whispered, lifting his hand from her back to stroke the hair from her sweaty brow.
“Hmmm,” she murmured, the sound dreamy and content. It was then he understood she was flying—drifting in that sweet, peaceful limbo between awareness and dreams that was sometimes referred to as submissive headspace.
Thrilled to be the one who had brought her there, he let her drift a while longer. Then he gently rolled her to her back. She opened her eyes, her face still smudged with the sated expression of a sub who has been well used. Wordlessly, she held out her arms.
Beau lowered himself on top of her, pinning her to the mattress with his body. His cock was like an iron bar between them. She shifted and he felt her small, cool fingers curl around his hot shaft. Arching her hips, she spread her legs and guided him toward her still-slick cunt. He groaned with pleasure as he entered her.
Beau took his time, stroking her with his cock and his fingers as he kissed her mouth and suckled her spongy-hard nipples. He could actually feel her body temperature rising as sweat slicked between them.
This time when she was teetering on the edge of orgasm, he commanded, “Ask for permission, slave. Don’t come until I say yes.”
“Oh, god,” she moaned, a deep shudder shaking her beneath him. “Please, Sir. May I come?”
“Not yet,” he breathed as he ground his pelvis against her clit.
“Ah,” she cried, trembling. “I can’t help—”
