“Seven,” I randomly spit out.

“I can take it.”

I massage the area my hand vacated, rubbing in small, soothing circles. “I know you can.”

Another smack.

Another moan. Louder than before.

“That’s two. I need five more. I want five more.”

I’ll give you a hundred million if it keeps you here with me.

“Whatever you want.” I smack her twice in a row, on either cheek, meaning the words with a sincere ferocity.

“Give me three more, Henry.”

I pause the slaps as I caress my fingers over the marks I’ve created before dipping between her cheeks, my pinky skimming over the only place of her I haven’t been inside yet. Ever so slightly, I push, not close to actually entering her, but letting her know I’m there. And what I want.

She gasps.

Then bucks her hips.

Then moans.

Another note I mentally jot down.

“What are you doing?”

“Daydreaming,” I reply, dropping my hand, not wanting to do something without permission. “Wondering what it would be like to take your ass.”

“Are you going to do that tonight?”

“No. We’ll have to work up to it.”

“I think I’d enjoy having you come in my ass.”

I almost blow a load right there, in my briefs, not a care in the goddamn world. “Is that so?” Two more spanks landing on either cheek, and Emma lifts her ass in the air, presenting it to me. “You’re my perfect other half.”

“One more, Henry. Please.”

The final plea does something to my brain, annihilating my coherent thoughts to shreds. Getting her off is the only thing that will quell my hunger and desire. My hand trembles as I spank her one last time, the hardest yet, my palm stinging in the aftermath. She clenches my calf with her hands and I stroke her back, rubbing between her shoulder blades as her breathing returns to slow and steady.

“Are you okay?” I ask, the need to check on her strong and primal. She nods, peeling herself off me and dropping to her knees, not meeting my gaze.

“I loved every second.”

She’s embarrassed to admit it. I can understand the hesitation; it’s always a little awkward after the first new bedroom experience, unsure of how the other is going to react to the rapture provided or gained. It’s clear she enjoyed the last few minutes, and I know we’ll be doing that again very soon. I’m picturing her in my bed, on her stomach, ass in the air and hands tied together as I kiss every forbidden part of her body. I lick my lips in anticipation.

“So did I,” I agree, saving the image for another time. “I owe someone an orgasm.”

“Not yet.” She skates her hands up my thighs, nails pressing into my veins, and she stops at the waistband of my briefs. “May I?”