Page 54 of Hollywood King
He scooted closer, his thigh aligning beside mine. “You pushed me away to try and save me from the pain you thought I’d bear if you…” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed heavily. “Anyway, I’ll accept your apology on two conditions.”
Eager to prove I wasn’t going to turn into a raging bitch again, I nodded. “Tell me.”
He slid off the side of the bed onto his knees and presented the ring box I’d completely forgotten about. “Marry me, Cat.”
The ring cast light motes around the room as I stared at it. I must have waited too long to answer.
“That wasn’t a question. You’re marrying me.” He slid the ring onto my finger like he branded me. Taking ownership of what belonged to him, and now the world would see it too.
“And the next condition?” The smile he gave me when I didn’t argue pummeled the weight in my ribs a little bit more.
He sat down beside me again. “For this part, I need to ask how you’re feeling.”
I shrugged, confused. “Fine, why? I made it to a mile on the beach yesterday. The doctor has removed all restrictions to my activity.”
The corner of his lips curled up and that hungry glint entered his gaze. “Good. Then take off your clothes and lay on the bed, flat on your belly.”
With his command, the nerve endings in my body seemed to wake up, remembering how his hands ignited me from the inside out. I stood and removed my linen pants and t-shirt. He curled his hands over the waist band of my panties and peeled them down my legs. Once my bra hit the floor, I lay down on the bed as he instructed.
“Good girl,” he said, his tone reaching that low timbre which vibrated straight to my clit.
I glanced back to watch him strip his belt out of his pants and fold it together. He caught me watching and snapped it together with a clap. “Now, I’m going to use this belt on that gorgeous ass of yours. I’ll put two slaps on either side, and you are going to count each one for me. But you better tell me to stop if you need me to.”
He knelt beside me and tucked some hair behind my ear. “Okay?”
I nodded, greedy for him to start, to finish waking me up from this coma I’d subjected myself to by leaving him.
The sound of the first slap scared me. It took a second for the pain to chase through me. It bloomed from where he hit outward in round rolling waves. Then the pleasure raced the pain, and I involuntarily arched against the mattress, wanting, needing, yearning for something to anchor to.
“Are you okay,” he asked, breathless. I didn’t risk looking at him, or I might be up and on him before he finished. “One,” I answered.
The next strike fell on the other cheek, and this time, the pain and pleasure tripped over each other. I flexed my hands I’d placed above my hand.
“Don’t you dare, Cathy. You’re orgasm belongs to me.”
I balled my fists and whispered, “Two.”
When the third blow fell, it landed perpendicular to the first, and I had to force myself to exhale against the sensations. My thighs grew slippery, and I squeezed them trying to feel something, anything.
He cleared his throat, and I said, “three.”
He delivered the final thwack, and it landed on the other side. I jolted off the bed. The belt hit the floor with a clatter of metal on wood, and Heath slid up beside me, his face to mine and dragged my thigh over his hip. Without any warning, he plunged two fingers inside me, and I shattered. His breath fanned heavily against my forehead, and his dick pressed into my belly. I came down, shuddering in his arms.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, between peppering kisses across my forehead.
“Yes, yes. I’m fine.” I managed while my raging heart returned to its proper place.
“When we get married, you can use the belt on me.”
A new world of images splashed into my brain. The image of him on his knees, on his back, laying down so I could cradle his head between my thighs and ride his face.
He pulled me in close and rubbed his cock between us. “Oh, you like that idea.”
“I do.” His breathing hitched as he arched his hips into me harder and harder. Then wet jets of cum splattered between us while he panted heavily, his fingers gripping me tight.
“Sorry,” he said, careful as he peeled us apart. He got up and found the bathroom for a cloth. I rolled over and watched as he cleaned me and then himself. In my head, I screamed for him to push inside me, fill me up, lay his weight across mine, but he didn’t. And after the belt, I should rest. He’d probably say the same thing if I asked.
“Get back over here.” I reached for him, and he snagged my hand in mid-air before folding himself beside me on the small bed again.
