“Climb on the bed, Sara,” he says after a pause, and there is a tenderness to his voice that hasn’t been present this night until now.

Slowly, I step toward the bed and the mattress shifts behind me as he follows me. His hands are on my backside, caressing, touching, teasing me with what will come next. Once I’m in the center of the bed, adrenaline surges through me, the anticipation of when he will spank me almost too much to bear. I glance over my shoulder, seeking that answer, and find him on his knees behind me.

“Face the front,” he orders, and I jerk my head away, but panic expands inside me. Chris’s hands caress up my waist and over my backside. Again and again, he caresses me and I can’t take not knowing when gentleness will become something very different. I have to stop this now. I have to—

His hand comes down on my backside, a sharp blow that stings, and I want to cry out but the next blow is already there, and the next. Somehow I remember to count. Three. Four. Five lands and this one is harder, deeper. I arch my back against the sensation and six lands with even more force. I barely process that the spanking is over and Chris is pushing inside me, his thick c**k stretching me. He thrusts hard, burying himself deeply, wasting no time. Immediately, he begins to pump his hips, his c**k pounding into me and stroking out of me, and he repeats it over and over again.

I feel each thrust in every part of my body, as if my nerve endings are alive in a way they have never been. Pleasure overcomes all else, and I push back against him, until I am moaning and panting and that sweet release I’d been denied previously is right there within reach, right there where I can grab hold and take it.

I hear myself cry out but I don’t recognize the sound as mine. I would never be so vocal, but yet I am, and I ache with the need for completion. Every muscle in my body feels as if it’s on fire a moment before my sex clenches around Chris and begins to spasm. My body jerks, and pleasure spirals deep in my womb and spreads through my body. A low guttural sound escapes Chris’s lips as he buries himself deep inside me. I feel the warm, wet heat of his release and the tension in my limbs begins to ease. My arms are suddenly weak and I sink to my elbows only to have Chris roll to his side and spoon me, my back to his chest.

His leg twines with mine and he wraps his arms around me. I feel protected, cared about, and, to my utter shock, immensely emotional. My eyes prickle and there is a storm brewing inside me that I cannot seem to control. Tears spill from my eyes and a sob slips from my throat. Then I am bawling uncontrollably, my body quaking along with my emotions.

Embarrassed, I try to get up, but Chris holds me to him, burying his face in my neck. “Just let it happen, baby.”

And I do, because I really have no choice. How long I cry, I do not know, but when it ends, I bury my face in my hands, ashamed by my lack of control. Chris strokes my hair in that gentle way I’m coming to love, and hands me a tissue. I swipe at my eyes, wishing my nose didn’t feel like it had a clothespin on it.

Still I don’t look at him. “I don’t know what happened.”

He turns me to face him and captures my let with his. “It’s the adrenaline rush,” he explains, then slides a pillow underneath both our heads. “It happens to a lot of people.”

“I thought the idea was pleasure through pain, not a meltdown.”

“You have to find your hot spots and your limits.” He brushes my hair behind my ear. “I knew from our pink paddle conversation that you wanted to try this, or I wouldn’t have gone where we did tonight.”

I remember the moment I thought Chris wasn’t angry anymore, yet he still spanked me. “So you’ve changed your mind about exploring darker interests with me?”

“I was never unwilling to explore with you, Sara. But I have hard limits that won’t change.”

“What does that mean?”

“No clubs. No collars. No canes and whips. No Master and Submissive roles.” His eyes twinkle with mischief. “As long as you understand I’m in charge, that is.”

I laugh and I know he’s keeping things lighthearted and somewhat avoiding my question, but I decide to let him slide on everything but the control issue. “During sex only.”

He wiggles a brow. “We’ll see about that.”

“No. We won’t.”

“Then maybe I should tie you to the bed,” he suggests and pulls me close, and I’m not sure he’s entirely joking.

“I guess I should be glad you didn’t think of that while you were still angry. You were pretty intense.”

His mood does the one-eighty shift I’ve come to expect from him and his voice becomes somber. “I’m still pissed as hell at you, Sara, but you need to know that I’d never touch you if I had anything but your pleasure as my motivation. That doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy driving you insane like you did me tonight. I did. You shouldn’t have gone to Alvarez’s alone.”

My defenses bristle. “Chris—”

He leans in and kisses me. “It’s your job. I get that. But if you think I’m going to let that stop me from protecting you, you’re wrong. Don’t leave your phone in your coat next time.”

I purse my lips. “Don’t assume the worst of me next time.”

“You mean the journal.”

“Yes,” I say in agreement. “It hurt that you thought I would lie to you.”

“I’m sorry. I would never hurt you on purpose.”

Tags: Lisa Renee Jones Inside Out Romance
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