His naked body draped against my thighs like he was made to always be here. I’d never been a huge fan of spanking. Sure, it had its place in any dynamic where both partners were consenting. But to call it a favorite would be a stretch.
Seeing Ricardo’s perky cheeks in my lap changed my opinion on the matter.
This was going to become an addiction. I needed to see his long, muscular form spread out like this on a regular basis.
My eyes ate up every inch of him, tracing along the curves of muscle and tattoos I hadn’t much paid attention to before. I’d noticed them, of course. Now, though, I was taking them in with the type of attention one gave pieces in a museum. Because that’s what looking at Ricardo sometimes felt like.
He was a masterpiece. Someone had taken their time when creating him.
It made me irrationally jealous that others got to look upon his beauty this way. I wanted to lock him away in my penthouse and keep him to myself.
At the same time, I had the urge to drag him around town for show. I’d drape him in the finest clothing, feed him the most delicious food, and mark my territory like the fucking psycho possessive bastard I apparently was.
Good grief.
I was being ridiculous.
Yet even with my drifted thoughts, my boy managed to stay still on my lap. His muscles were relaxed, no sign of stress as he trusted me to handle whatever came next.
I ran my hand over one side of his ass, letting myself take in the rounded curve. Then I shifted to the other side to repeat the movement in reverse. It was a simple movement, yet it did more to make him tremble than waiting him out had done.
“Are you ready, mon chou?”
He nodded against the bedspread. He’d left his arms out to the side with his face in the blanket. No fighting or trying to get comfortable even. It was like he needed to let the punishment play out before he settled on how he needed to be.
A grin lit my face at the idea. I wanted him to commit to the process. And part of that was about letting it happen.
“Words, please,” I insisted. “A nod isn’t enough for this.”
Ricardo sucked in a breath. “Yes, Daddy. I’m ready.”
“Very well. You will have one hit per toy you’ve purchased without me. If you’re good for your punishment, then I’ll use one of your toys on you. Sound good?”
He shook his head. “No, Daddy.”
I froze, equal parts proud and confused. Before I could ask what he meant, he spoke up again.
“No more toys. I want your cock. They were only to practice.”
My cock pulsed beneath him like a raging bull ready to get in the arena.
Fuck.
I almost didn’t want to punish him now. He hadn’t done anything wrong to begin with. This was merely to show him who owned his orgasms. Ricardo had to see the connection we had was layered. He needed to understand he could trust me to help him through anything he needed — including sex.
Maybe even especially sex. It was vital to our relationship that we learned to communicate.
“Oh, mon chou. You are full of surprises. We’re going to talk about this more later. For now, you’ll get your eleven hits, then I’ll fill you until you’re leaking my cum. Agreed?”
“Yes,” he answered quickly.
I swatted him sharply. Not too hard, but more than enough to sting.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Daddy!”
I rubbed the place I’d hit. The motion would soothe the spot as I thought about how to keep my cool. Coming too soon would only disappoint my boy. I had to keep my shit together while doling out this spanking. Then after, I could have what I’ve been craving since the minute I met him all those years ago.