Chapter 9
Dallas
I examine my girl’s bottom closely before I start spanking her. It’s still pink and warm, but I didn’t swat her so hard this morning that she can’t take more now. Judging by her reaction, she’s so aroused from the very thought that she’s close to begging me to spank her again.
I knew she was submissive. That has been obvious all week, but I couldn’t know for sure how deeply she needed to be dominated until I spanked her this morning.
Not only did she thoroughly enjoy it and end up so aroused she was shaking most of the morning, but I suspect she intentionally disobeyed me a moment ago to get another hit of the adrenaline rush that comes from being spanked.
She only marginally balked when I told her I would eventually claim her bottom, too. My cock is so hard right now that I’m probably going to come in my jeans. I’m definitely going to need release after I swat her.
I love the way she fists the quilt in her palms as I land the first echoing slap on her pretty rear. Her intake of breath makes my dick take notice, too.
Her toes barely reach the floor, but she manages to push up slightly higher, offering her bottom to me.
I spank her a few dozen times, raining my palm all over her warming bottom and down her thighs almost to the backs of her knees. Everyone will see the pinkened skin because her dress isn’t long enough to cover her punishment. Knowing that will keep her cheeks pink all evening.
When I’m done, I keep her in place with my hand on the small of her back, once again letting the burn continue for long seconds before setting my warm palm on the back of her thigh and smoothing it up to soothe the sting.
She moans.
I bend over and kiss her hot bottom, once on each side.
“Dallas…” Her voice is filled with lust. She needs to come. I still haven’t let her come today, and I’m not going to right now, either. I even resist the urge to reach between her legs and stroke her folds. I want to, but I know she would come in a heartbeat.
I need to come, though. I’ve needed to for ten hours. I lift my hand from her back. “Don’t move. Not an inch. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” she pants.
I open the button on my jeans and lower the zipper, watching her face the entire time.
Her eyes go wide, and her mouth falls open. She knows what I’m doing.
I lower my jeans and briefs just enough so I can wrap my palm around my cock. My gaze is on her, though. “Do you have any idea how hot it makes me to spank you, Arianna?”
She whimpers.
I keep my cock out of her line of sight. She doesn’t get to watch. Stroking myself slowly, I say, “You don’t get to come. I do.”
“Yes, Sir,” she breathes. A full shudder shakes her frame.
“It’s going to take me less than a minute.” As soon as I squeeze tighter, I will be a goner. “Do you want my come on your hot ass, baby?”
She nods vigorously without hesitation. “Yes, Sir.”
I groan. Damn, she’s perfect. I don’t want to risk her lifting off the bed, so I set my palm on her lower back just above her ass again and press her against the mattress while I fist myself.
After a few strokes, I lower my gaze from her face to her ass as ribbons of my come jut out to coat her heated bottom. My vision blurs for a few seconds as I get my much-needed release, and then I stare at my artwork. My semen drips down both of her sexy cheeks and onto her thighs.
She squirms, her body stiffening when I palm her bottom to rub my essence into her skin. First, one cheek and then the other. I finally lean over and whisper in her ear, “You can have dinner with my come drying on your pretty ass.”
She whimpers, “Yes, Sir.”
For a woman with so little sexual experience, she is shockingly submissive to me in every way—including sexually. If there was any doubt that Arianna was mine, it’s been obliterated today.
I tuck my cock back in my jeans and fasten up before I pad to the attached bathroom to wash my hands. When I return, Arianna has not moved an inch. She’s still on her tiptoes, her hands fisted above her head.
I reach for her hips to help her rise, her dress falling back into place. “Come, baby. Let’s look at rooms.”
Her pupils are dilated, and her lips are parted when she turns to face me on unsteady feet. “I like this room,” she murmurs.
I lift a brow. “You haven’t seen any of the others.”
“I don’t need to. I already know this room is the right one.”
I stare at her. “How do you know that, baby? Maybe one of the others is even better.”
She shakes her head. “Nope. This is the one.”
I take her hand and lead her to the door on one side of the room. When I open it, she glances at me. “What’s this?”
“The adjoining room.”
She steps inside and gasps. “It’s a nursery.”
“Yep.” Not many of the rooms in this monstrosity of a mansion are actually nurseries, even if they once had been, but this one definitely is.
It still has a crib and a changing table in it.
They are over seventy years old and probably break about fifty safety violations, so I would never use them, but they bring out a reaction in my woman.
I watch her closely as she takes a few more steps into the room. She’s not running from the house, at least. She approaches the crib and touches it with the same delicate reverence as she gave the post of the bed in our room. “This is probably worth a fortune,” she whispers.
I come up behind her and set my hands on her hips.
“Maybe. I’ll look it up. I thought we should have an estate sale and unload some of this old stuff, but Claire and Reagan were appalled.
They think we should prepare this old pile of bones for it to be opened to the public in the future with original furnishings.
So I guess we’ll move a lot of this ancient furniture to the attic for now. ”
She nods. “That’s reasonable.” She turns toward me and tips her head back. “I’m not even sure I want kids, Dallas. I’ve never thought about it. I never even thought about getting married, let alone having a baby.”
I force myself not to react. Instead, I pull her closer, gripping her hips. I set my forehead against hers. “But now you have me.”
She holds my gaze. “That’s hard to wrap my head around.”
“You’ll get there.” I decide to nudge her about her past. “Why didn’t you think of marriage and kids before you met me, baby? Did something happen in your past to turn you against the idea?”
She looks down and pushes away from me.
I let her go. She’s working through whatever it is she won’t tell me. I won’t wait forever, but I will be patient for now.
When she wanders to the window to stare out of it, arms crossed, hands rubbing her biceps, I think she might reveal something, but instead she says, “We should go downstairs. Gretchen probably has dinner ready.”
“Okay, but eventually, you’re going to need to talk to me, baby.”
“I know.” She looks past me. “I need to use the bathroom.”
I smirk. “You can pee if you want, but you may not wash my come off your skin.”
She rolls her eyes. “Dallas, you’re such a caveman.”
“Yep.”
“It’s dry and tight.”
“Yep,” I repeat, “And it will remind you to behave in the future.”
“I’m not a child,” she argues weakly.
“Nope. You’re submissive, though, and you like it when I’m bossy.”
She sighs, not bothering to argue that point.
“Fine. Let’s go have dinner.”