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“What are you doing?” he asks warily, eyeing my hands like he’s looking for the lotion I insisted on rubbing over his ass last night and again this morning.
“Let me see,” I say.
“What? Teddy, nooo,” he gripes, not actually objecting when I flip him onto his stomach. “This is humiliating, I’ll have you know. I’m a grown man, and you’re checking my ass.”
“It’s a very nice ass,” I assure him, drawing his pants down carefully. My blood heats as I see the evidence of last night on his skin, even though the inflammation is minimal. He’ll be good as new tomorrow.
Kipp cranes his neck, looking back at me. “Like the new color, do you?”
“Pink suits you.”
He stifles a laugh, shoving his face against the couch and muttering, “I’ll suit your face.”
I give his ass cheek a gentle kiss before pulling his pants back up. “Feeling okay?” I ask seriously, running my fingers up into his hair.
He lets out a sigh, turning his face. “Yeah, Teddy. Honestly? I feel really good. Relaxed. Like, I know I should be worried about what happened with my family, but I just can’t find it in me to care. I guess I have you to thank for that.”
I rub along the shell of his ear. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with their judgment, Kipp. I wish I could erase every mean word they’ve ever said to you.”
He huffs a small laugh, his eyes slipping shut as I toy with his ear and neck. “Pretty sure a few more instances like last night and you’ll have smacked every thought of them from my head by way of my ass. Which, you know, sounds weird. But my point stands.”
“That can be arranged,” I murmur as memoriesof last night assault me. Kipp laid out over my lap, squirming and flushed. His moans as the sensation shifted from pain to pleasure. How utterly perfect he was in his submission—in his trust—and the way he fell into subspace like he was meant to be there.
Kipp swallows, shifting slightly so he can see me. “Can you explain why I liked that? Because it hurt. But then…”
“Then it felt good,” I fill in for him.
“Well, yeah,” he says quietly.
I nod, running my hand over him. His leg, his side, anywhere I can reach. “Have you ever had a runner’s high?”
He cocks his head slightly. “Um, yeah, I have.”
“It’s kind of like that,” I explain. “When you experience prolonged physical or mental stress, your body releases endorphins to counteract the pain. It’s a natural defense mechanism that helps you cope. In the case of impact play—like spanking—there’s also adrenaline mixed in that heightens your body’s stress reaction. You get a dump of those endorphins to balance that, and with enough repetition, it can give you a sort of natural high. Some people find it very therapeutic.”
“Um, yeah,” he says. “I can understand why.”
I give his shoulder a rub. “My goal was never to hurt you,” I tell him, wanting to make sure he understands that. “It was to help you past that threshold. You told me you have a low pain tolerance, so I kept the impact light.”
“Seriously?” he says, an adorable pout on his lips. “That was light?”
“It was.”
“Jesus,” he mutters. “So basically, you’re telling me I’m a wimp.”
“No,” I assure him, sliding over his body until he’s lying flat underneath me, chest to chest. “You’re perfect. That was perfect. And it won’t be as bad next time because your body will know what to expect.”
Kipp blinks up at me, slowly sliding his arms around my shoulders. “I’m not a dainty guy, Teddy. I’ve never been tossed around, never been handled the way you handle me. I didn’t think it would be something I’d like. But you make me feel…”
He closes his eyes for a moment until I nudge his nose gently with my own.
“What?” I ask softly, my heart pounding like a drum.
He lets out the smallest of breaths. “You make me feel fragile in a way I’ve never allowed before. And I like it. A lot. Please don’t break me.”
Kipp’s phone rings before I have a chance to answer him. It’s like a gunshot piercing the air, and we both flinch. I sit up as Kipp reaches for the device on the coffee table, his expression falling.
“I’m going to answer this,” he mutters, bringing his phone to his ear. “Hello?”
