Page 76 of Recollection
IT’S BEEN A WEEK SINCEwe had sex for the first time, and I’m sprawled across Arthur’s lap at eight thirty in the morning.
He’s sitting up on the bed, leaning against the headrest, and I’m draped over his thighs, completely naked.
He’s spanking me.
I’m really not sure how it happened. It started with nothing more than a little teasing about Arthur’s gray hair, and now he’s got two fingers of one hand inside me as he lightly swats my bottom with the other.
I’m gasping and squirming and making ridiculously helpless sobs of pleasure as I come over and over again.
His thick, gentle murmur is an erotic undercurrent to the rhythmic slapping sound. “You’re doing so good, baby. Don’t hold anything back. Let yourself feel good. This is what you need. I want to give it to you. I want to give you everything you need.”
I sob shamelessly into the mattress, my face and ass both blazing hot and tears and saliva dampening the bedding beneath my face. My whole body shakes as another orgasm breaks through me, my channel spasming hard around his fingers.
He’s not thrusting or pumping them. He’s holding them still—like he wants to feel how hard I’m coming.
He rubs my butt gently until my clenching fades and I’ve fallen quiet with nothing more than an occasional whimper. “You did so good. You took that so well. Have you had enough, baby?”
“I... I...”
“Tell me the truth,” he murmurs almost sternly.
Oh God. I clench around him excitedly again based on nothing but the tone of his voice.
“It feels like you need even more,” he says, a smile in his voice now. “But I need you to tell me in words.”
“Please, Arthur.” I shift restlessly, trying to raise my bottom higher, toward his hand. “I need more.”
“Good girl.” He brings his free hand down in a sharp smack, the sting of the impact surging into a wave of pleasure that makes me cry out. “Did you like that?”
“Yes. So much. Again. Please.”
He spanks me again. And then again. On the fifth slap, I’m coming hard and messy all around his hand again. This time he spanks me through it, murmuring about how good I am, how hard I’m coming, how I’ve gone so long not letting myself surrender to this pleasure and how he wants me to always feel this good.
Between his voice and the spanks and the penetration of his long fingers inside me, the orgasm is so long and intense that I’m completely spent afterward. I collapse in a boneless heap across his lap, still moaning shamelessly at how my body feels.
He slides his fingers out from inside me—I’ve gotten so wet it feels like the moisture is everywhere—and uses both hands to caress my bottom, back, and thighs.
“Thank you,” I manage to mumble when I’m finally capable of forming words.
“You’re welcome. But you really don’t have to thank me. That might have been the hottest moment of my life.”
I swivel my head so I can see up at his face. He’s flushed and damp with perspiration, and his eyes are filled with that hot, fond satisfaction I always see there after sex. “But you didn’t even get your turn.”
“Oh yes, I did.”
I frown, too groggy to immediately interpret his reply.
“I may have... uh, lost it a bit. I told you it was the hottest moment of my life.”
A giggle surprises me. He must have come in his boxers. I manage to sit up and then crawl over so I can wrap my arms around him. He pulls me into his lap, hugging me tightly.
We sit like that for a long time, and I’m not sure I’ve ever felt safer—more treasured, more loved—in my life.
When he shifts slightly beneath me, I finally pull away and scoot over to get off the bed. I’m still pulsing between my legs with little aftershocks, but the rest of me is tired and sated and a bit sore. Especially my butt.
“You okay?” he asks, eyeing me closely. He’s wearing nothing but his underwear, his hair loose and rumpled and thick stubble on his chin.
“Never been better. You didn’t hurt your back, did you?”