Page 94 of Her Rival

"Oh, ho, hooo," I said with a dark chuckle as I reared back. "You're in trouble for that one."

I cracked her again.

"Jett!"

Again.

"It burns!"

Again.

"Oooh, my fuuuck."

With every thrust I spanked her. With every pull-out I rubbed the red spot I'd left. Everything blurred. I had her at my mercy on a rug at the foot of my bed in a house I'd never let anyone see, and the man I'd been raised by a Tennessee church to be was not the man I was in that moment, and the man I was had a woman fully open to him and was using her exactly as carefully as she wanted me to.

"Oooh, Hartley. Your ass looks beautiful in red. I'll spank you so hard the only thing you'll be comfortable sitting on by the time I'm done with you is my face."

Crack after crack, and all it did was push her over the edge. Her cheek planted into the rug as her orgasm raced through her body. Her eyes rolled. Unearthly sounds left her mouth. I pumped into her, stilling only when her body finally settled.

Then I did something I had not done Saturday night.

I pulled out. I leaned down. I kissed every burning spot on her ass.

And then, with the same slow careful attention I'd used in the shower forty-eight hours earlier, I traced my tongue along the scars her father's belt had left behind when she was eleven.

I felt her go still under me.

I felt her tears before I heard them.

I slid my hand up her back, pinning her shoulders to the rug. I slipped my other hand between her legs. Two fingers slid into the swollen, battered entrance of her. My thumb found her clit.

"I know you've got one more in there for me, beautiful."

She shook her head lazily against the rug. "Jett, I. uh. it, just."

I chuckled and kissed another reddened scar. "Why don't you just lay there and enjoy this one."

"Jesuuus."

"I mean, sure, if that's what you want to call me."

She growled at me in frustration. It made me laugh for real, the first real laugh I'd made all day, and the laugh broke something open in my chest I'd been carrying around without knowing it was there.

"You're never going to rest with me around," I told her.

She lay there with her burning ass in the air and let me kiss every scar on it. I stuffed her full of my fingers. My thumb coaxed her swollen nub back out from under its hood. I kept raking over a spot that burned deep in her gut. Her left leg trembled like a dog's. She wanted more of it.

I pressed my face into her and lapped at her, and all it did was coax her back up the mountain.

"Oh my god. I can't. I can't. I can't. Please. It's too much."

"Mmm," I hummed against her scars. "I think you can."

"Jett, please."

"Just one more for me, Hartley."

She shook her head, even as she bucked back against my hand. "I can't. I can't. I can't."