It was long enough to cover the tops of my thighs, but something about wearing it felt intimate and naughtier than being naked.

He’d laid some kind of big, padded mat down on the ground and tossed some pillows and blankets on it. At least it wasn’t a sleeping bag.

I tugged at the blanket. “Ah, the old ‘there’s only one bed’ routine…”

“Constantly accusing me of being a player. I can sleep in the back of the truck if you want.”

“It’s fine,” I said dismissively. “We both know you’re a perfect boy scout, so it’s not like my virtue is at risk.”

I lay back on the mat and parted my thighs in invitation.

He swaggered over to me, turning the lantern off when he passed it, plunging us into darkness. At first I thought it was pitch black, but as my eyes began to adjust, I noticed that with the moon and the glowing light of the dying fire, we could still vaguely see each other.

He cupped my ass with both hands and used it to pull me against him, letting me feel his hard length grinding into me.

He growled, “Does that mean you don’t want me to be Lucas Steel again tonight?”

I paused, his wording making me think back to the emotional undercurrents I’d felt from him the night before.

“Alex, you know I didn’t mean I wanted you to pretend to be Lucas Steel, right?”

“Then what did you want?” he murmured against my neck.

Fuck. Now I was going to have to actually say it.

“I meant I wanted to have with you what Freya has with Lucas Steel. That kind of submission. He might spank her until she cries, but he’ll make sure her every whim is satisfied. She belongs to him to do with as he pleases.”

He paused, nuzzling his beard against the sensitive skin of my shoulder. “And you want that with me?”

“More than anything.”

The energy between us shifted and he pulled back to look into my eyes through the darkness. “What’s your safe word?”

“Admiral.” He grinned that I’d picked the name of the comic book hero he played. “What?” I shrugged. “I like your ass in the spandex.”

“And I like your ass bare,” he said, then he manhandled me down to the mat on my stomach, pressing his weight on the tops of my thighs so I was trapped in place. As he kneaded my ass, letting his fingers brush between my legs, he murmured, “So what’s this about spanking you until you cry?”

“I didn’t mean that literally, Boy Scout. It was just an ex—”

His big hand smacked down hard on my ass cheek in an immaculate stinging blow, then continued spanking, taking my breath away.

I gasped, “Someone’s going to hear this!”

He nipped the skin of my neck with his teeth and whispered, “Then you better not be too loud.”

He kept going, holding me down and spanking harder, pushing into a threshold of pain that had me curling my toes and panting, but it was a rush. The feeling of being powerless under him while he did as he pleased was taking me to subspace.