She could justify what she’d done until she found her husband sprawled in his computer chair window-shopping for motorcycles. He stretched out his lanky form like he relaxed in a recliner, and he whistled through his teeth as he clicked through hogs, Harley wannabes, and other bikes.
Regina Ellison crept across the carpet that imbued their home with the heady scent of newness and covered his eyes with her hands. “Guess who?” She disguised her voice.
“Mildred! I thought you’d left. I told you my wife would be home soon.”
She giggled and slid her hands over his muscled chest to hug him, snuggling her face against his neck. She loved his smell, so masculine and warm. Springy, dark hair curled against the collar of his favorite shirt, relegated by negotiation to weekend wear. He’d had it so long the collar and cuffs had frayed. She’d given up on getting him to throw it away but had extracted his agreement not to wear it in public, because people would think they were dirt-poor. Fortunately he dressed better for work. A successful architect, Linc had designed some of the more innovative office buildings in town.
He bounced his head against her breasts. Amusement tickled her mouth—Linc took advantage of every opportunity to touch her tits. Not that she minded.
“Did you have a good lunch with your mother?” he asked.
“Where’d you go?”
“Poppy Seed Café. Had Caesar salad with chicken. ” Guilt slithered through her at her omission. “We lost track of time,” she offered in case he wondered why she’d been gone so long.
“So how is she doing?”
“Great. She loves her job. She’s been attending AA meetings regularly.”
“I’m glad you two are talking.”
She nodded. “I am too. She’s a different person since she stopped drinking. I only wish she’d gotten sober a long time ago.” Like for their wedding when her mother had gotten drunk and loud and caused a scene. Or during her childhood when Regina would arrive from school to find her passed out on the couch at three o’clock in the afternoon. She’d never invited friends home. As soon as she was old enough, she had gotten a job, because having nice things was essential to maintaining the illusion that she was a happy girl from a normal family.
She forced back memories of troubled times and gestured at the computer screen. “See anything you like?” If a magic genie appeared to grant Linc a wish, he’d pick a Harley in a heartbeat, but they’d bought the house last year. Now they were saving so when they started a family, she could take an extended leave from Woodhue, Orson, Bernstein, and Jessup, Attorneys at Law. Her job as executive assistant to one of the partners, Elizabeth Alexander, often demanded long hours, even though Elizabeth was a wonderful boss and mentor.
Linc shrugged. “Just doing a little research. I have other priorities.” He spun his chair around. A light glinted in his hazel eyes.
Her stomach fluttered. No matter what disagreements they had, that look never failed to turn her knees to jelly. They shared an incredible chemistry.
He brushed his knuckles against her breasts as he unbuttoned her blouse. Despite her kindling desire, she cringed when he tossed it onto the floor into a crumpled heap. The blouse was silk, the buttons real pearls, and even though she’d gotten it on sale, it had been quite expensive, costing even more than the designer jeans she had on. But she couldn’t explain that to him. Couldn’t admit she’d broken another promise. He unclasped her bra and flung that aside too, and then her worries evaporated when he cupped her breasts in his large hands and sucked a tip into his mouth, his tongue like raspy velvet against her nipple. Linc scraped his chin across her breast, leaving a wake of delicious tingles to tease its identical twin.
In no hurry, he maintained a slow, sensual assault on her senses. Regina curled her fingers into his thick hair and held his head against her. Her nipples awakened to his gentle swipes and tugs, hardening and sending quivers into her sex.
Linc lifted his head, and they kissed. She loved the way he coaxed, seduced with his lips, his tongue, the whisper of his breath, his heady taste. On their first date, she’d known he would be her forever man from his good-night kiss.
As he seduced her with his mouth, he busied his fingers by pinching and pulling on her taut, wet nipples. Her pussy contracted, moistening, and her clit throbbed, demanding attention. Regina pulled away, kicked off her crystal-studded flip-flops, and squirmed out of her tight jeans.
“I love it when you do that.” He rose to his feet to take off his shirt. His cock had risen too and strained against his zipper.
“Get naked?” She grinned and hooked her thumbs into her thong.
“That too.” His shirt landed atop her blouse, his jeans nearby. “But I meant the way you wiggle.” The wetness from his weeping cock darkened a spot on his blue briefs.
“You want wiggle?” She shimmied her shoulders so her breasts danced.
Linc growled; she laughed and tossed her shoulder-length hair. He grabbed her and hoisted her into his arms, fastening his mouth on a nipple as he carried her out of the office and down the hall. Her dangling legs bumped his cock, and she teased him by rubbing her foot against his hardness. He clamped an arm beneath her buttocks and smacked her ass with his free hand. She squealed. He chuckled and sucked harder on her nipple. Once in their room, he ripped the covers off the bed and deposited her on the mattress. In a flash, he’d shucked off his shorts and joined her.
Linc nipped her neck and shoulders, the tiny stings of pain stirring a yearning between her legs. He nudged her to lie back against the pillows, but she grabbed his hard-on, slid her hand along the length, caught the velvety cap on the upward stroke, and swirled her thumb in the fluid leaking from the tip. She shoved on his chest, and he reclined. Smiling, Regina straddled his thighs, brushing her wet pussy against his leg. Heat flared in his eyes.
Scooting down, she dragged her hardened nipples over his thighs and groin before squeezing his cock between her breasts. His hiss turned to a groan when she flipped her head and dusted her hair over his cock before drawing him into her mouth.
The scent of man and soap filled her nose as she used her lips and mouth to pleasure him. She licked his shaft, swiped her tongue around the ridge, and drew him deep the way he liked.
He surrendered to her ministrations, emitting rumbles of satisfaction, his hips seeming to thrust on their own, but then he tugged at her arm. “Let me make you come.”
Regina shook her head. “Huh-uh,” she mumbled, her mouth full of cock. She sucked harder and cupped his balls. Her pleasure didn’t matter as much as his. She wanted to do this for him. Show him how much she loved him, desired him. Put him in an extra-mellow mood.
She had brought in the day’s mail.
She engulfed his erection until his pubic hair tickled her nose and he hit the back of her throat, almost triggering her gag reflex.
“Gina.” Her name rumbled in his throat. Linc pinched and pulled an engorged nipple, elongating it further, and she closed her eyes, feeling the tug clear down to her pussy.
He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her off him. She expected him to push her back against the pillows or spread her legs and eat her out, but he scooted to the edge and gestured for her to move closer.
She wiped the drool from her mouth, rolled off the bed, and planted her feet on the floor. He often took her from behind as she bent over the bed.
“No.” He shook his head, grasped her arm, and tugged.
Peering at him, she creased her forehead. “I don’t understand. What do you want me to do?”
“I’d like to try something.” He patted his thigh.
At first she assumed he wanted her to continue the blowjob, but then his meaning hit her, and she widened her eyes. “You want to spank me?” she squeaked and then cleared her throat. They’d never done that before. Her pulse picked up a nervous beat. Whatever makes him happy. “All right.”
His cock throbbed, precum pearling, and she couldn’t resist a lick before settling into place over his lap. His hardness nudged her hip, her breasts flattened against the mattress, and her legs stretched out.
Regina jumped when he touched her butt, but he only kneaded it.
“You have a luscious ass,” he said. “Soft, round.”
“I’d rather have buns of steel.” She contracted her glutes.
“Perfect the way it is.” He massaged her cheeks, then dipped his fingers between her legs and homed in on her clit. Rubbed in his surefire way. She moaned, moved against his skillful hand. It wouldn’t take much foreplay to bring her to orgasm. He knew her body so well. But when she almost reached the pinnacle, he withdrew his hand and smacked her ass.
“Ow!” she cried. It wasn’t a very hard slap, but the sucker stung.
He bounced his palm off her other cheek, harder still.
“Ouch!” She laughed through the hurt. And people considered spanking fun? Erotic?
After several strikes, she called a halt. “That’s enough.” She twisted onto her hip and braced herself on an elbow. He cupped her butt cheek to prevent her from falling onto the floor. “I don’t want to do this.” He’d only hit her a few times, but already her ass tingled and throbbed. Interesting. So was the twitch in her pussy.
“Give it a chance,” he said. “We’ve just gotten started.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said but settled into place again, noting that his cock had gotten even harder, if that was possible. Mellow. I want him mellow.
He laid several hard smacks to the center of her cheeks, and she yelped with each one.
“Move your hands,” he ordered when she instinctively covered the target area.
“I can’t help it. It hurts,” she said.
“It’ll hurt a whole lot more if I hit your wrists instead of your butt. Your ass has padding. Your wrists don’t.”
She couldn’t argue with his reasoning, so she grabbed ahold of the sheet.
A peppering of smacks cranked up the heat, and she understood why people referred to spanking as “burning a bottom.” That was how her butt felt. Scorched.
She moaned after a hard one seared her skin. Linc slipped his hand between her legs again, found her clit, and stroked. He plunged two fingers into her pussy, and even before his grunt of satisfaction, she knew she was in deep trouble. Moisture drenched her cunt.
Then he yanked her from his lap and hauled her onto her knees on the bed. Her breasts swung, the tips as hard as stones. They, like her pussy, knew what she had not: spanking aroused her in a bizarre way. He shoved her hand to her sex. “Make yourself come,” he growled and delivered an incentivizing smack to her ass.
She couldn’t believe it. He’d ordered her to come! Who did he think he was? But if his behavior seemed inappropriate, hers was incomprehensible. Her stomach fluttered, and her pussy released an excited surge of wetness. Their positions, his dominant one, her defenseless, almost submissive one, sent a burst of lust coursing through her. Her body had never hungered for him as much as it did in that moment.
While she masturbated, he spanked her. His breathing, heavy like a phone caller in the middle of the night; the crack of flesh hitting flesh; and her gasps provided a prurient sound track. Almost too wet, she had to move her fingers quickly and furiously to get good friction. The musk of her arousal filled her nose.
Every time he landed his hand on her ass, she flinched with pain, yet each thwack shoved her closer to orgasm. His slaps became harder, sharper. Linc and Gina played in tandem—he spanked; she raised her hips for the stinging kiss. “Oh God, oh God,” she moaned, her fingers flying over her burning clit. “I’m gonna come, Linc, oh my God.”
Linc scorched her ass with a whack that would have brought her to her knees if she hadn’t already been there. He prodded her entrance with the mushroom head of his cock and surged inside her, stretching, filling, demanding accommodation. She moaned and clenched as her pussy went into orgasmic shudders.
“That’s it, Gina. Come for me.” He gripped her hips and lifted her off the bed, plowing into her, fucking her with force and precision, driving her face into the mattress. She surrendered to his cock, his domination, the ecstasy. Moments later, with a hoarse cry, he came, spilling himself inside her.
Regina floated in a state of semiconsciousness, her senses booting up slowly, one at a time. Sound came first, their ragged breaths huffing in sync. She blinked, focusing on the rose pattern imprinting their sheets, the brightness of the midday sun streaming through the windows. She detected a hint of laundry detergent emanating from their bedding and the much stronger scent of cum and sweat. Lastly came the sensations: her arm growing numb, trapped at an awkward angle under her body; Linc’s fingers digging into her hips; his semihard cock plugging her pussy; and her ass radiating a level-two burn.