Page 42 of Passionate Defense

“I also agreed to submit.”

“That’s right. So, I’m going to punish you for your defiance, after which, I’m going to take you hard right here on the deck with the ocean at our feet and the wind in our faces. Next, we’ll pack a cooler, hit the beach for a relaxing afternoon. Later, we can go into town for dinner and shopping. How does that sound?”

“But, Ethan, what if someone walks by? And what about the neighbors?”

“Look to your right. See the privacy screen on the side of the deck? We’re secluded except from beach walkers or if someone’s in a boat. You can keep your top on just in case.”

“You are so good to me, sir.”

He shook his head at her sarcasm as he let the first swat fly. It zinged across her right cheek and she gave a surprised yelp.

“Sorry.”

He smiled, appreciating that he didn’t have to ask for an apology, although it didn’t deter him in the least. His palm was the gauge he used to regulate the force of a spanking. Prickling a little after that first swat, he knew she was feeling it more intensely on her already tender skin. He was cautious, never wanting to hurt her, only warming her ass to a nice rosy red. But her pain threshold was high, tolerating much more than his palm.

A few times, during an intense scene, when the endorphins were coursing through her bloodstream, she’d asked for more. He refused. His job, and duty to her during play, was to do no harm. If she couldn’t, it was up to him to determine how much she could take.

“Bend over the rail and we’ll get this done.” With her hands tied, he had to support her as she lowered her head and chest. His knee between her thighs widened her stance.

His hand grazed her lower back as he ordered, “Arch for me, Lanie. Show me that beautiful bottom.”

When she obeyed, he glimpsed pink and saw moisture glistening on her thighs. He smoothed his hand over her taut cheeks and down the backs of her thighs. Then, in an underhand motion, he landed the first crisp swat. Her head dropped forward, but if she said something, it was lost in the breeze.

He repeated the smack, following it with a dozen more, alternating from side to side and maintaining a steady intensity. Pausing to rub the warmth and pretty pinkness he’d created, he leaned forward to check in with her. At that moment, she peeped over her shoulder, eyes wide with her lower lip caught between her teeth. Then she smiled, and he nearly came in his pants.

At forty-one, he expected to have better control. But having this beautiful, confident, professional woman submit to him was heady stuff. With her hands bound behind her, she was powerless against him; her vulnerable body was subject to his will. Not that he’d ever hurt her, but the trust that she had in him, that she allowed him to do this, was awe-inspiring.

Best of all, she loved it as much as he did. She couldn’t mask her response—her quickened breath, the flush of excitement on her skin, the smell of her arousal—and thank God for that.

Ethan continued at a faster pace, watching both cheeks undulate before his fervent eyes. He ached to drive his cock into her inviting wetness and ride her until they were both shaking with exhaustion from coming.

And he would, after a few more.

He moved closer until the hard bulge of his fly pressed into her hip. Bending over her back, he admonished in her ear. “You were very disobedient just now, my lovely naughty girl. Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes, sir, I have.” Her answer was a mix of breathy words and whimpers as his hand moved lower and his fingers found her clit.

“And what exactly have you learned?” he asked as he slowly circled it.

“That I love having your hands on my butt, whether rubbing, squeezing, or spanking it.”

He chuckled. “Baby, we’ve known that for a while. Is there anything else?”

“Yes.” She looked back at him, eyes gleaming like the ocean behind her. “You’re in charge. And I’m sorry for being a brat about that shirt. I don’t have a clue what got into me.”

“You didn’t plan it, hoping we’d end up here? Brat it up a little so I’d have reason to bend you over my knee or, in this case, the railing? Admit it, Lanie. You played me a little, too.”

Her lips parted as if to deny it, but she stopped, admitting the truth. “I did because I wanted to be right here with you like this and nowhere else. I didn’t care about the shirt, really. It was a means to an end.”

“Thank you for your honesty.”

He stood and pulled his fingers away, but his hand grazed her cheek, leaving a trail of her wetness. Opening his fly, he stepped behind her. Then, with cock in hand, he let the head pick up where his fingers left off, gliding it through her slickness and over the hard nub in front.

But too much of that would be his undoing. He drove into her unable to hold off another moment. Standing still while buried inside, he savored the feeling of her internal muscles gripping and rippling around him. Mindful that this would go quickly, he freed her wrists and grabbed her hips, as he growled a warning.

“Hold tight to the railing, my little brat. This is going to be fast and hard.”

He didn’t lie. Their skin smacked together, and the force of his driving hips pushed her farther over the rail until Lanie squealed in alarm.

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