He helped her slide around so instead of lying on her back, her breasts and abdomen now lay on the float. She took hold of the pool rail once more as her legs hung over the edge of the float, her butt in the air. She kept her thighs pressed together to keep the vibrator from slipping free.
He drew his hand back, smacking it down on her ass several times.
Oh, God. It stung. The pain was sharp, burning. It hurt and she could feel herself tensing. Then he reached between her legs and turned the vibrator on. Fuck. Fuck. She had to bite down on her lip and hold on for dear life as the spanking morphed into something more.
She groaned. Arousal flooded her. Please. Please.
“Uh-uh, no coming quite yet,” he said, as if he could hear her. “I have a little experiment to conduct first.” He grabbed her ass cheeks pulling them apart. She tensed. She didn’t know how she felt about this.
You can say no.
He would stop then, but she didn’t want that. And just because she was unsure didn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t willing.
He pressed a finger against her back entrance. Oh, that felt naughty. He slid his other hand under her hips to play with her clit. Her pussy contracted. Orgasm rushed at her. He seemed to sense she was near, and flicked her clit harder, faster, more of his finger entering her back hole.
“Come for me, pet. Come hard. Let go now.”
His finger continued to tease her clit and she came with a crash, her breath leaving her in a whoosh, incapable of making any sound. The world around her stilled. Her whole body shook and a sharp tendril of panic shot through her. It was too much. Way too much. She gasped for air. Then he was drawing her off the floating lounger and into his arms.
“Easy, sprite. I have you. You’re good. Just let go.”
She took one breath then another. The trembles in her body rocked her, but he held her close as he stepped out of the pool with her cradled in his arms.
“I think we know how you feel about anal play,” he commented.
Yeah, she guessed they did.
10
Aspen put the boys in the double stroller and set off towards the restaurant. The stroller was a godsend. Well, Saxon sent. And there were days he seemed to think he was God. So it was close.
“Morning, Renard,” she called out cheerfully as she pushed her way through the open doors and into the kitchen. It might be early but the day was already heating up.
Renard grunted at her, not looking away from his tablet as he sat at the small dining table. She wheeled the stroller over to the table and lifted the boys out, putting them in
the playpen. Another gift from Saxon. He was spoiling them.
There wasn’t much he didn’t notice, no matter how busy he was. She winced at the sound of a saw and Renard grumbled something to himself. The contractors working on the restaurant had moved down to their end of the restaurant. Unfortunately, the louder they became the grumpier Renard got. It was like working with a dormant volcano, never quite sure when he was going to explode.
At least until the restaurant was open, she could keep the boys with her while she worked. Once it opened, Gwen said she would help her with them. How such an old fart like Thomas had found such a sweet wife she didn’t know, but Gwen had been a godsend. The restaurant was only going to be open evenings. She could do most of her prep during the day. Saxon wanted a dessert cart for the restaurant so she’d just need to come back in the evenings and check everything was set up correctly.
“You’re late,” Renard told her.
“Actually, I’m five minutes early,” she replied cheerfully. Renard liked to provoke people. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe he liked an argument? Maybe it was just his personality? But arguing back wasn’t going to help. She needed this job and she was determined to get along with the big bear of a man.
Even if it killed her. Or him.
There were many days she got home, exhausted, her face aching from smiling when she’d really wanted to scream.
She could do this. She could. Saxon had done so much for her. This was a dream job in so many ways. It wasn’t going to be ruined by some ass of a man with no social filter. Getting Renard to like her might be a stretch but at least he hadn’t sent her running from the kitchen in tears. Yet.
“Then be earlier tomorrow.”
She took a deep breath in, let it out slowly. Patience. Patience.
“I want you to make a seven-layer, strawberry-lemon cake today.”
What?