Page 80 of Edging Coach
“Well, yeah.”
I chuckled. “It’s called warming you up. I’m not going to start whipping you hard in the first five minutes. There might be a time and place for that—although never with me. I want your body warm and pliant before I escalate. Going too fast might ruin this for you.”
“Oh.”
Resisting the urge to ask if something had happened with his ex, I continued the rhythmic strikes. I reached out farther to land on his shoulders, letting the falls feather down his back. Slowly, with each hit, I increased the pressure.
His back and shoulders were pinking nicely.
Finally, I dropped the flogger to the bed and then I moved to Jack. I grasped his hips and leaned against him. The cool skin of my bare chest contrasted with the heat of his back.
He sighed. “Feels?—”
“Yes?”
“Nice. Like a caress.”
“As I intended. Are you feeling warm and comfortable? Do I need to turn up the temperature?” The window would be cold against his hands, of course, but the baseboard heater on the wall next to him pumped nice warm air into the room.
He shook his head. “No. This is…nice….”
“Do you think I should keep beingniceon you?” Not grammatically correct, but he’d get the idea.
“I can take whatever you’re willing to dish out. I’m at your mercy.”
“Color?”
“Green. Absolutely green.”
I grinned.
“Are you hard?”
“Uh…yeah…”
“Good.” I brushed my erection—covered just by my towel—against his plugged ass.
A shiver ran through him. That he was aroused was great. But not a necessity. His erection might wane and return as we progressed in the scene. Some participants in scenes never got aroused. For others, the pain and pleasure always went together. Their bodies associated them.
Will be interesting to see where he falls today. Because what happened today would only give me an idea. Tomorrow might be completely different.Tomorrow.I sighed to myself. Then I pulled back so I could run my blunt fingernails up and down his back. This was one of the few times when I wished I had long fingernails that I could run up and down the pink skin.
Still, he shivered.
And not from the cold.
I gently eased away.
He shifted.
I pressed my hand to his left shoulder.
He flexed his muscles. “It’s fine.” A whisper. Not a broken one, though.
When I returned to the bed, I checked my cell phone, which I’d dropped.
The timer read nineteen minutes.
Time to move forward.
