His to Take (Wicked Lovers #9)(110)
Author: Shayla Black

“Joaquin?”

Petting a hand over her butt, then down a thigh, he silently comforted her. “Tell me, are you green right now?”

“Like traffic light green? Yes.”

“Good. Let me have my way with you now. If it’s too much, you know how to stop me.” When she nodded, he tugged on her hair, gently lifting her head. “Did you mean to say something to me?”

“Yes.”

He knew he should let go of her hair, but he liked the feel of it too much. Instead, he released the tension just slightly, then smoothed his left hand down the curve on her ass. “God, this is turning me the fuck on. Do you like having your hair pulled?”

“I do,” she breathed out.

“Do you like being over my lap?”

“Yes.” Her voice became something closer to a whimper.

That turned him the fuck on, too. He swallowed. “Do you want me to spank you?”

She paused, and the silence ticked on. “Um . . .”

“It’s a yes-or-no question, Bailey. Just be honest.”

“It’s hard.”

Joaquin could feel how badly she didn’t want to answer him. “Because you’re worried that saying no will disappoint or upset me? It won’t. I came on too strong the first time. I didn’t have your consent. We didn’t have a safe word. I wasn’t in control. I want to do this again, but the right way.”

“I even liked it the first time,” she finally admitted. “I told you I didn’t because I was embarrassed. Who gets off on being smacked by the guy who kidnapped her? I didn’t understand why I was that girl.”

“There’s always been a crazy chemistry between us, baby girl. It’s feeling a lot like there always will be. We can’t do this right if we’re not honest. So you just have to tell me . . . green or red?”

She dragged in a shuddering breath. “Green. I want this. I want it a lot.”

And Joaquin couldn’t even begin to describe how thrilled he was that she enjoyed one of his kinks of choice. “You got it. I want this a lot, too.”

Then he didn’t bother saying anything more, just raised his arm and brought it down again, using the pull of gravity more than any real force. As he stared at her ass, a faint handprint appeared—then disappeared almost as quickly. He did the same thing to the other cheek with the same result. Hmm, he didn’t want to truly hurt her, but this mild paddling wasn’t floating his boat.

“Did that sting?”

“A little.” But her tone said she’d really felt very little—and probably wanted more.

“Did you like it better this time or last? Remember, be honest.”

“The last time.”

“Me, too. I’ll try again.”

Quickly, he raised his arm again. This time, he lowered it with a whoosh he could almost hear. The sizzle of his hand striking her skin burned a hundred times hotter. The gasp of her little bite of pain got him a hundred times harder. The print of his hand on her pretty, pale ass looked a hundred times more vivid.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Satisfaction poured through him. She looked fucking fine with his mark on her. “Bailey?”

“Yes.” Her high-pitched reply told him he’d given her what she wanted, too. “Please more.”

“My pleasure.”

Joaquin let the blows fall, one after the other, in a savage but steady rhythm all over her upturned backside until it turned bright pink, then rosy, then vivid red. He stopped for a moment, tearing himself from the hazy fog of his desire. Every time he spanked her, his head swelled with the most amazing feeling, as if he was all-powerful and linked into this one woman. This time, he swore he could read her mind.

Just to be sure, he hesitated and listened to her choppy breathing, watched the flush of arousal crawl up her back. He tugged on her hair and turned her head to the side, leaning over until he looked into her eyes. Dazed, glassy, utterly aroused. With a smile, he dipped his fingers between her slender thighs and into the well of her pussy. Soaking wet. Perfect.

He tried to calm his own labored breathing, sucking in huge drafts of air and caressing her backside.

Bailey arched to his hand. “That . . . When you rub my skin like that, it’s as if you’re pressing the heat deeper into my flesh. It’s sinking into my blood.”

“You’re aroused.”

“Completely.”

“Your pussy ache?”

“Totally.”

The way she admitted it only notched up his arousal. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Right now.”

If she hadn’t sounded desperate and gasping for air, he might have told her that she didn’t have the control here. But her voice indicated she dangled at the end of her fraying rope. Damn it to hell, he was at the end of his, too.