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“I promised myself that I’d always keep you safe,” he said. “Don’t make it so hard for me.”
I remained silent, absorbing the sensations and what had just occurred. I should be livid. I should be demanding that he let me go. And yet, I had never felt so protected and… loved… before in my life.
I was also wetter than I had ever been before, and I could only hope he would take me right then and there.
But he didn’t. He only kissed me on my forehead before he stepped away from the couch and let me straighten my dress.
“Come with me.” He grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs to the bedrooms. “It’s late and we both have had a long night.”
He opened the door to the guest room, and my heart sank. Without him saying another word, I knew that our evening would be coming to an end. Him leaving me to sleep alone, as I’d done before in his house as a guest, was more of a punishment than the spanking had been.
I walked inside the room, seeing the spare bed.
“Goodnight, Storee,” he said from the doorway.
I turned to look at him. “Goodnight, Locke.”
He smiled and closed the door behind himself. I could hear his soft footsteps fade away into the darkness as I gingerly sat down on the bed.
I tried to push the thoughts of Locke and the belting incident out of my mind, but it was no use. Every part of my body still tingled with excitement and a throbbing dull ache.
I collapsed onto the bed, my eyes closed and my brain feeling like a rock. Thoughts of him spanking me filled my mind, and I found myself grinding against the bed.
I bit my lip and ran my hand over my pussy, feeling the wetness seeping through my panties. I pinched my nipple through the fabric of my dress and wished he was still there so he could punish me again.
I furiously rubbed my clit through my wet panties, the friction sending waves of pleasure through me. I pinched harder, the pain mixed with pleasure causing my hips to buck.
But the orgasm wasn’t going to come. Just like having any chance of my fantasy of Locke come to fruition.
I lay there for a moment, breathing heavily until I finally calmed down. I turned off the lamp next to the bed and curled up under the covers. My mind buzzed. Sighing in frustration, I gave up on the quest of satisfying my needs, just like I needed to give up on this childhood crush of mine.
Chapter 12
Storee
I couldn’t quite make out the sound I was hearing as I walked down the stairs in the morning.
Whipping?
Leather hitting something?
It was coming from the back room, which I knew to be Locke’s gym.
“Locke?” I called out, not sure if I was interrupting something.
Oh, god, please don’t have me walk in on him having sex with someone?
“Locke?” I called out again. “I need to get home, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
I approached the door to the back room and hesitated for a moment. The sounds I was hearing could be sexual, and I didn’t want to intrude on Locke’s private life. But then again, he had invited me to stay the night, and I had a feeling that he would be angry if I simply left without saying goodbye first.
I pushed open the door and was immediately hit with the scent of sweat and… Locke’s bare—very muscular—chest. My eyes took a few moments to adjust to the dim lighting, but when they did, I was fully greeted with a sight that made my heart race.
Locke was in the center of the room, shirtless, wearing gray sweats, and covered in a sheen of sweat. His muscular chest was heaving, and his eyes were closed in concentration as he jumped rope in front of a full mirror.
The whipping sound was the rapid speed of the rope hitting the floor as the sexiest man I had ever seen was working out with headphones in his ears and oblivious that I stood with my mouth agape and my body frozen in place. His movements were fluid and graceful, as if he and the rope were one entity moving in perfect unison. I couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles flexed and bulged with each jump.
Locke’s body was a work of art, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight in front of me. I felt like I was catching a glimpse of something intimate yet powerful. I’d had no idea that he had so many tattoos on his upper arms and chest, and they only added to the raw masculinity that emanated from him.
