Page 74 of The Fire We Crave

“Count for me, Quinn.”

And then, I spank her on the fleshy mound of her right ass cheek. It’s not gentle, but on a scale of what I’m capable of, it’s probably a four.

She lets out a gasp. “One.”

The next one, I hit her left. This one is more of a five.

“Two.”

The third one, I spank upwards, hitting just below the crease of her ass. A solid six that has me breathing deeply and fighting with the noble gesture of making this all about her.

“Ah,” she cries. “Three.”

Two red handprints are appearing on her ass, a visual reminder that I’ve had my hands on her. I wonder how she would feel about me taking photographs of it sometime.

I move a lock of hair that has fallen over her face. “I’m going to go a little harder on the next two, because I think you can take it. If you can’t, I want you to use your safe word.”

She nods. “Okay. Please.” But the words don’t have their usual sass. I can hear the anticipation, the nerves.

The cheeks of her butt tighten, anxious to stay out of the path of my hand, even as she remains resting on the counter. Gently, I stroke my hand over her ass, feeling the change in temperature as I move over the handprints. She’ll no doubt notice them when we sit down to eat later.

The idea of her wriggling in her seat, trying to get comfortable, makes me grin. Maybe I’ll pull her over and let her sit on my lap for a softer seat.

“If you relax,” I say, “it doesn’t hurt as much.”

And then, I follow it with an upward spank to the other cheek.

“Smoke,” she cries out, and at the same time, I notice the glistening between her thighs, and tears forming in her eyes.

I tip my head back and take a deep breath, because if there’s one thing guaranteed to make me happy when it comes to sex, it’s when my actions create an aroused response. Bizarrely, it’s not usually their pleasure I care about. It’s the kick I get from the power of being able to do that.

But this time, it’s different. I find myself caring that Quinn’s enjoyment matches my own.

I dip my finger through it, then pull it to my lips and lick it clean.

“You taste so good, sugar.”

And she’s still looking at me with teary eyes when I spank across her pussy.

Her whole body shakes, and Quinn bursts into tears.

She didn’t orgasm.

That wasn’t the point.

She brings her hand up to cover her face, but doesn’t move.

I reach for her arm and pull it away from her face. “No, sugar. Don’t cover your face. Let me see what I did, how it made you feel.”

Bending forward, knowing it means my rough denim will rub against the sensitive spank marks, I lick one of her tears. It’s a gesture that’s way too soft and tender.

She gasps in air when I deliberately move my hips against her.

“Stay there ’til I get you dressed, sweetheart.”

Quickly, I pull her panties and overalls over her butt, then stand her up to pull the straps over her shoulders to buckle them in.

Then, I pull her into my arms, tucking her head beneath my chin so it can rest against my pec, and hold her while she cries.

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