worked long hours. That was why.
“So you’re saying men are naturally dominant and women are naturally submissive.”
“That wasn’t what I meant, but in general? Yes. It’s not true of all men and women, of course.”
“And that’s why men should spank women?”
“I’m not saying anyone should do anything. But for many people, that form of communication keeps the relationship oiled and running smoothly.”
“Communication. That’s an interesting euphemism.”
Mark continued. “The trust a woman gives to a man when she bares her bottom cuts through all the petty relationship strife and strengthens their bond.”
“Why can’t the trust develop by the woman spanking the man? Why don’t you drop your pants?” She dared him.
“Would that do it for you?” His gaze was serious, intense. “If I allowed you to spank me, would you trust me enough to lie over my knee?”
“Like you would do that.” She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me. It’s not respectful.” His tone filled in the blanks. Roll your eyes, and I’ll spank you.
She wiped her damp palms on her leggings. Stress had short-circuited her nervous system. Her entire body had gone haywire. Her stomach tumbled, her knees trembled, yet her pussy contracted, and her clit pulsed. Her breasts felt heavy and achy. And she was still here. Because despite his crazy ideas, being with him felt like she’d finally snapped into the right groove. He excited her, and in some strange way, he comforted her.
“Let’s go in the other room.” Mark tugged her to her feet.
Before she could protest, he’d propelled her into his bedroom, flipping on the lights as they passed through the doorway.
Underneath a glowing tray ceiling, a king bed dressed in nubby gray rested atop a platform, requiring two steps to climb into it. Plump pillows in silk a lighter shade than the coverlet leaned against a black headboard. That was all she had time to notice, because she jerked her gaze to Mark as he moved to a sleek black armoire and extracted a leather-covered paddle.
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Oh Gloria.
He shoved the paddle at her. “Here.”
After stepping to the platform, he undid his belt buckle and unzipped his trousers. He lowered his pants and briefs to his knees, exposing a tight, round ass, and leaned over the bed, resting his weight on his elbows. Stephanie was riveted on his behind, her face on fire. She’d fucked him in the car, but it had been her choice—not to mention dark—and this was so unexpected, she could only clutch the paddle in shock.
He peered at her. “I’m going to allow this only once, so do your worst. Have you ever spanked anyone before?”
“Of course not.”
He touched his back. “Stick to my butt. Don’t hit the lower spine. And please, avoid the family jewels. I’d like to have children someday.” He faced forward again.
She gawked. His balls were visible between his slightly spread legs. Dark hair was sprinkled over his muscled thighs, but his ass was as smooth as a baby’s. And taut. Buns of steel.
Stephanie swallowed. Several times during the evening she’d itched to hit him, but now the urge had vanished. But shouldn’t she take a whack anyway? He had no qualms about paddling her. This was her opportunity to settle a score for womankind. To show him she was dominant, not submissive like he claimed. To reassure herself.
She tested the paddle with a smack against her thigh. She flinched at the crack, but he didn’t so much as twitch. That clinched it. “All right!”
Right-handed, she stood to his left to get a good swing. She brought the paddle down in the center of his left cheek. His skin turned pink on contact but then faded to his normal tone. He uttered not a sound. Her stomach felt a little sick. She struck his other cheek harder. She winced, but he didn’t.
Wasn’t he supposed to yell ow or something?
Two quick smacks on the first cheek. Another hard one to the
“So you’re saying men are naturally dominant and women are naturally submissive.”
“That wasn’t what I meant, but in general? Yes. It’s not true of all men and women, of course.”
“And that’s why men should spank women?”
“I’m not saying anyone should do anything. But for many people, that form of communication keeps the relationship oiled and running smoothly.”
“Communication. That’s an interesting euphemism.”
Mark continued. “The trust a woman gives to a man when she bares her bottom cuts through all the petty relationship strife and strengthens their bond.”
“Why can’t the trust develop by the woman spanking the man? Why don’t you drop your pants?” She dared him.
“Would that do it for you?” His gaze was serious, intense. “If I allowed you to spank me, would you trust me enough to lie over my knee?”
“Like you would do that.” She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me. It’s not respectful.” His tone filled in the blanks. Roll your eyes, and I’ll spank you.
She wiped her damp palms on her leggings. Stress had short-circuited her nervous system. Her entire body had gone haywire. Her stomach tumbled, her knees trembled, yet her pussy contracted, and her clit pulsed. Her breasts felt heavy and achy. And she was still here. Because despite his crazy ideas, being with him felt like she’d finally snapped into the right groove. He excited her, and in some strange way, he comforted her.
“Let’s go in the other room.” Mark tugged her to her feet.
Before she could protest, he’d propelled her into his bedroom, flipping on the lights as they passed through the doorway.
Underneath a glowing tray ceiling, a king bed dressed in nubby gray rested atop a platform, requiring two steps to climb into it. Plump pillows in silk a lighter shade than the coverlet leaned against a black headboard. That was all she had time to notice, because she jerked her gaze to Mark as he moved to a sleek black armoire and extracted a leather-covered paddle.
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Oh Gloria.
He shoved the paddle at her. “Here.”
After stepping to the platform, he undid his belt buckle and unzipped his trousers. He lowered his pants and briefs to his knees, exposing a tight, round ass, and leaned over the bed, resting his weight on his elbows. Stephanie was riveted on his behind, her face on fire. She’d fucked him in the car, but it had been her choice—not to mention dark—and this was so unexpected, she could only clutch the paddle in shock.
He peered at her. “I’m going to allow this only once, so do your worst. Have you ever spanked anyone before?”
“Of course not.”
He touched his back. “Stick to my butt. Don’t hit the lower spine. And please, avoid the family jewels. I’d like to have children someday.” He faced forward again.
She gawked. His balls were visible between his slightly spread legs. Dark hair was sprinkled over his muscled thighs, but his ass was as smooth as a baby’s. And taut. Buns of steel.
Stephanie swallowed. Several times during the evening she’d itched to hit him, but now the urge had vanished. But shouldn’t she take a whack anyway? He had no qualms about paddling her. This was her opportunity to settle a score for womankind. To show him she was dominant, not submissive like he claimed. To reassure herself.
She tested the paddle with a smack against her thigh. She flinched at the crack, but he didn’t so much as twitch. That clinched it. “All right!”
Right-handed, she stood to his left to get a good swing. She brought the paddle down in the center of his left cheek. His skin turned pink on contact but then faded to his normal tone. He uttered not a sound. Her stomach felt a little sick. She struck his other cheek harder. She winced, but he didn’t.
Wasn’t he supposed to yell ow or something?
Two quick smacks on the first cheek. Another hard one to the
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