‘Don’t,’ he advised through gritted teeth, ‘try to play me, Ruth.’
The last three strokes were full-bodied and burning with righteous indignation.
Ruth made a sobbing noise but she wasn’t actually crying; no tears dampened the cushion.
He wondered, turning the slipper over in his hands, how much she could actually take. How much more? What would be her real limit? And, above all, would he ever find out?
He admired the crimson stain of her cheeks, brushing his hand over them. Ruth had gone limp over his lap, as if all her bad habits had drained out of her, leaving only a shell.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked after a minute or so of silent stroking and shoulder rubbing.
She snuffled and nodded against the cushion.
‘Talk to me, Ruth. I need to know you really are OK.’
‘I’m fine. Oh God. I don’t know. I don’t know how I am.’
Rob thought perhaps he ought to pull her pyjamas back up for her, but he didn’t want to lose sight of the glorious results of his labours so soon. If he helped her off his lap, his erection would be quite uncomfortably visible too. But doing nothing didn’t seem to be an option, so he put his arm around her waist and nudged her up into a kneeling position beside him on the sofa.
He kept his arm around her waist and let her rest her head in the hollow of his shoulder.
‘Is this penitence?’ he whispered. ‘Or have I gone too far?’
‘No, oh, Rob, you’re so sweet.’
‘Sweet? After what I just did to you?’ He was almost offended.
‘You did it because you care,’ she said. She nuzzled her head against him.
What should he do? Was he still supposed to be disappointed in her or was the punishment now over and the air clear for, well, for other things?
‘Yes, I did it because I care,’ he said. ‘Because I want you to be happy with who you are. Do you think it might work? Was it what you thought it would be?’
‘I didn’t expect it to hurt so bloody much.’
He laughed.
‘I think it’s meant to,’ he said.
He put a hand up to her hair and stroked it.
‘I did it because I care,’ he said hesitantly. ‘A lot.’
She looked up at him, still blushing at the eye contact. He noticed that she had made no attempt to pull up her pyjamas, and her sore bottom rested on her heels.
‘Do you?’ she said.
‘I should probably make you get your books out now and get to work.’
‘But you aren’t going to?’
‘I’d rather … Do you think it would be completely wrong if, if we—’
The sentence remained unfinished or, if it was finished, it was done by the pressure of lips upon each other rather than the use of speech.
Ruth climbed on to his lap again, straddling him this time, pushing against his erection so that he couldn’t control himself and the kiss became heavy and rough, reflecting his desires. Both his hands gripped her buttocks, fingers dimpling the hot flesh, kneading it while he thrust his tongue into Ruth’s soft, pliant mouth, warning her what she could expect. Somehow, during the course of this intense kissing, Ruth’s pyjamas made an inexorable progress downwards, ending on the floor.
Rob moved one hand up her top to grab and caress her breasts. Her nipples were hard and resistant to his pinching fingers. He groaned into her mouth and broke the kiss in order to nip and suck at her neck.