Page 11 of Naughty Bedtime Stories

She tossed the bra aside, not sure what to expect now, anticipation thrumming through her veins, sensitizing her body.

“Put your hands on the door,” he ordered.

“What?” She started to turn, but his hands settled on her waist and stopped the action.

“You heard me,” he said. “Put your hands on the door.”

Sarah’s lashes lowered, her breath lodged in her throat. She was really going to do this. She needed to do this, could feel her body hum just thinking about fully submitting her will to him. Sarah took the short steps forward that allowed her to press her hands to the doorway, could feel his attention on her, goose bumps rising all over her flesh with his hot stare scorching her.

“Spread your legs wider,” he said, still not touching her. Why wasn’t he touching her?

Sarah tried to look over her shoulder. “Ryan?”

His hands came down on her hips, his body framing hers, his cheek pressed to hers. “I’m here,” he said, his hands sliding to her breasts, caressing and teasing. “Does that feel good, Sarah?”

“Yes,” she murmured, and tried to cover his hands with hers.

He pressed them back against the wall. “Leave them.” His hands covered hers, his body stretched over hers. “Do I feel good, Sarah?”

“Yes,” she said. So good. Too good.

He slid his hands over her arms, over her back, over her hips, and then inched her legs apart, spreading her wide. His finger slid along the crevice of her backside, even as his other hand slid low on her stomach.

Sarah gasped as both of his hands pressed into the aching sensitive heat of her core, an assault of pleasure from both front and rear, even as his teeth nipped her shoulder. “So wet and hot,” he murmured, nipping again, one of his fingers penetrating her. “Do you want me to keep touching you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me inside you?”

“Yes.”

His hands moved to her hips. “Then tell me what scares you, Sarah.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to beg him to touch her again, to stop pushing for an answer she didn’t want to give. Because he scared her, and she knew he didn’t like that answer. She didn’t know what to say. “Ryan—”

His hand slid into her hair and gently but firmly pulled her head back to his shoulder, her lips an inch from his. “I don’t scare you or you wouldn’t be here.” He kissed her, a long, deep, hot kiss that had her panting with need, and when he released her mouth, he said, “You don’t kiss me like I scare you.” He released her hair, slid one hand down to her backside. “What scares you, Sarah?”

“You do,” she said. “Damn it, you do, Ryan.”

He smacked her backside, a short stingy slap that had her gasping for air, and her sex clenching with ache. And then he smacked her again, and once more. She was panting when he finished, preparing for another smack, wanting another connection. His hand slid to her breast, fingers tugging roughly at her nipples. “You like being spanked,” he said. “You like the idea of me controlling you, and that’s what scares you. You’re afraid of yourself, of what you want…what you need.”

Her head fell forward as she struggled with an admission that made her feel vulnerable. “Yes.”

“Do you want more?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Yes what? “Please.”

He smacked her backside three times, not hard, just stingingly erotic and oh, so pleasurable, then he turned her to face him, pressed her against the door, his hands doing delicious things to her body—touching her breast, sliding to her sex, fingers pressing inside her until she was riding hishand like a wanton wench, and spasming in release. She was panting and, at the beginning of embarrassment creeping over her, he said, “Don’t. Don’t even think about regretting what just happened. I forbid it. And I am the one in control here.”

“I wish it were that easy.”

He gently stroked her hair from her face. “Itisthat easy. While you’re here with me, you just let me make all the decisions. The weight of making them yourself lies just outside that door. And you’re beautiful and sexy when you let yourself go, Sarah.” She warmed at the words as he added, “And I will never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know,” she said, meaning it. “I know or I wouldn’t be here. And I…want to be here.” Nerves fluttered in her stomach, but they were good nerves, so good. The kind that were accompanied by yearning for what came next, knowing it would be unexpected and perfect, in the same moment. “What’s my next lesson,Master?And please tell me it includes you naked or I’m going to leave really disappointed.”

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