Six Signs of Submission (Desire Island 6)

He brought his hand down hard on her left cheek, the first real blow of the session. Predictably, Lainey squealed, jerking her trapped legs between his. The skin flushed a darker red, the vague shape of his handprint just visible.

He struck again, this time on the right cheek, admiring the second handprint that rose on her supple flesh. His cock, already hard, felt like it was going to explode. His balls were tight with need.

Ignoring his lust for the moment, he focused on the spanking, delivering a rapid-fire series of small, sharp slaps to her bottom and the backs of her thighs. Lainey was panting now, her breath shallow.

He placed his other hand firmly against her lower back to help center and calm her. “Breathe,” he urged. “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. You’re doing so well, Lainey. You’re strong, brave and sexy as hell. I know you can do this. Work through the pain, the same as you would do during an intense workout. You’re doing great.”

He waited a moment as she struggled to comply. She drew in a shuddery breath and let it out with a whimper.

“Again,” he said. “Breathe. Focus on your breathing, not on the pain. Just let it happen. Let it become a part of you.”

Once she was sufficiently calm, he began again. He struck as hard as before, but this time, she didn’t squeal or whimper. Instead, she expelled a long, audible breath, like a sigh.

Encouraged, he settled into a steady, stinging rhythm, covering every inch of her ass and the backs of her thighs until they were hot to the touch and fiery red. He was poised to stop at any moment, half expecting her to shout out her safeword. But she didn’t stop him. And she was no longer panting or squirming.

Her body had loosened, the muscles relaxing, though he continued to strike her with some force. He smiled to himself. As he’d suspected, this girl was a natural.

Not wanting to bruise her virgin flesh, he slowly eased the spanking until he was again only lightly stroking the skin with a gentle touch. She sighed softly, the sound sweet and low in his ears.

Unable to resist any longer, he let his hand slip between her legs, seeking the hot cleft of her sex.

She was soaking wet—another sure sign of her submissive, masochistic nature.

Delighted, he slid a finger into the tight, wet heat of her, his cock throbbing with the need to do the same. A deep shudder moved through her as she wantonly arched her body, forcing his finger deeper inside her.

Christ, she was sexy. He desperately wanted to fuck her—now.

But he didn’t have a condom with him, since he hadn’t wanted to presume by bringing one along that morning. Nor had they discussed sex beforehand, and he didn’t feel it was gentlemanly to take advantage of her arousal in the heat of the moment. Not to mention, he had only been allowed to reserve the space for an hour. When he made love to Lainey, and he swore to himself that would absolutely happen, he wanted to take his time. He definitely didn’t want to be interrupted by the ding of that kitchen timer, or the next guest knocking impatiently on the door.

So, controlling his lust, he pulled his finger from her slippery clutch and patted her on her cherry-red behind. “You please me very much,” he said sincerely. “You took that like the true sub I knew you were. And now, sub girl, it’s time for your flogging.”

~*~

Lainey rolled from Cooper’s lap and got unsteadily to her feet. Her ass was on fire, her mind whirling. The spanking had hurt—a lot. In fact, there was one point where she very nearly shouted out the safeword. But it was at that precise moment that he’d placed a steady, soothing hand on her lower back. His touch had calmed her, giving her the courage to continue.

“You’re strong, brave and sexy as hell. I know you can do this.”

That had made her smile, right through the stinging pain and her jangling nerves. She was strong and brave. What was the definition of brave, after all? It wasn’t about being fearless, it was about working through your fear to do what you needed to do.

Her years of competitive Jiu Jitsu had taught her, even more than her chosen career of fitness instructor, how to confront physical challenges and rise above them. Wasn’t this just one more challenge?

But it was more than that. What she was experiencing was different from the burn of a difficult workout or the ache of fatigued muscles. What Cooper was doing hurt so good.

For the first time, she actually understood, on a visceral level, that strange concept she’d read about in novels—erotic pain. There was a sensual overlay to the sting that made her want more, not in spite of the pain, but because of it.