Perfect Notes

He leaned into my shoulder blades, pressing me down farther. I sucked air into my lungs and ignored the discomfort. The smacking sounds of his hips pummeling my ass cheeks echoed about the room. My flood of juices, uncontainable.

He stilled. The frantic pace ceased and he let out a cry. With a few more deliberate, slow thrusts, he completed. The heat bloomed in my belly then escaped as he withdrew.

Little by little, I returned to the bedroom. Stefan lay panting next to me and he reached out with his hand and patted my bottom gently.

I shivered and curled up into a ball, leaking onto the sheet. I didn’t care.

Later—how much later, I didn’t know—I stirred and found that he’d covered us with the duvet. I turned to lie next to him, snuggling up to his side. His eyes were closed, but I didn’t think for one second he was asleep.

I laced my fingers through his chest hairs and adored his new hairstyle, which had managed to survive his frantic motions intact.

“Why do you call it a punishment fuck?” I asked.

He pursed his lips and stared at the ceiling. A few seconds ticked by. I fondled his pectorals, sliding my hand around the dainty nipples until the silence stretched on and I halted my circular journey over his firm chest. Why did he struggle to answer my questions?

“I like to be in control—”

“I noticed—”

“So, when I’m not, I have to get back in control… I suppose it’s a get-back-in-control fuck.”

My fingers twirled again. “Doesn’t have the same ring about it as punishment.”

“Do you mind? The control thing?”

“Thing…?” I didn’t like the concept of punishment, but each time he said those words, my pussy went berserk. Perhaps it was the way he said it. “I confess, it turns me on. Not the notion of punishment, but you taking me regardless.”

He lifted his head off the pillow. “It does?” He sounded surprised at my admission.

“I also like the reason why you do it. Teasing you into coming.” I grinned, flicking my finger at his tiny nipple.

“Ah. So I have to earn it.”

I rested on an elbow and stared directly into his eyes. “Earn? Seems to me you like how you earned that fuck. I think for you it’s a win-win.”

“And you, too, don’t tell me those orgasms—”

I smothered his mouth, drowning out his words. Gradually, I extracted my lips. He smiled.

“What next?” I asked.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. You shower. I’ll cook. Then…”

I raised my eyebrows expectantly. “Then?”

“I’ll fuck you again. A slow, sedate version.”

He swung his legs off the bed and reached for his dressing gown. I lay back on the bed. With a wink of his eye, he left me alone. I didn’t move for some time, pondering his last words. He talked of leisurely sex, but still called it a fuck. What happened to lovemaking? Did that expression exist in his vocabulary? Then again, I’d never made much impression when it came to romance and lovey-dovey behavior. Micah had always claimed to hate it, until I bought him something, then he’d be all over me again.

Stop overthinking.

I heaved myself out of bed and headed for the shower.

Chapter Ten

I scrambled around, hunting for the alarm clock on the bedside table. The morning light streamed through the high window and thin skylight in the angled roof.

Nine-thirty. I was alone in bed. Stefan had already risen. I supposed I should have been grateful for a lie-in. I kicked off the duvet and stumbled toward the en suite.