Page 31 of Reckless

I slid my hand over his arse. “I do think this is something you’ll like, Robbie, but I’ll stop if you ask.”

He nodded.

I didn’t give him any more warning than that, just delivered a sudden stinging slap to the meat of his left cheek, and, before he could even react, added a matching one to his right. My palm stung, and colour bloomed on his arse.

He jolted and sucked in a hissing breath. “Jesus!”

It was the loudest I’d ever heard him, and I gave him another swat just to hear him again.

He didn’t disappoint. He let out a sharp, raw cry like one of the gulls that circled the harbour during the day.

“You’re doing so well,” I said, soothing the sting with my palm. The heat coming off his skin was beautiful. “Give yourself a moment to feel it.”

“To f—” His sides heaved as he pulled in breaths, and his fingers curled into fists. “I can fucking feel it alright!”

I bit back a smile at his uncharacteristic attitude, and then gave him another smack.

His reaction to this one was more muted. He groaned, legs shifting on the bed, his cock hardening between them. I reached between his thighs and tugged his balls, just to give him another sensation to battle against, and his arse clenched as he rubbed against the bedspread.

“Just feel it,” I reminded him as I hit him with another short volley of slaps, reddening up his arse nicely.

I could see the moment when he did. The moment he stopped trying to fight the pain and sank into it instead. Sank, just briefly, and then began to float. I made it easy for him by keeping up a steady rhythm now, and watched as his fingers uncurled and his body relaxed. Instead of tensing in anticipation of every blow, he shifted slightly to offer himself up instead.

Time stretched out. I could hear the murmur of the ocean, and Robbie’s breaths, punctuated by the slap of skin on skin.

“Good boy,” I said, and he hummed in response. “Just a few more.”

He gave no resistance at all to the final measured hits, and he groaned when I rubbed his cheeks when I was done.

“That’s good,” I said. “How does it feel?”

“Good,” he echoed back, slurring the word. He squirmed as I dug my fingers into his right cheek, and his hips lifted as he tried to halfheartedly thrust against the bedspread. His cock looked as painfully red as his arse.

I straightened, ignoring the faint twinge in my lower back that reminded me I wasn’t in my twenties anymore and that I should have picked an easier position for the spanking, such as putting Robbie over my knee. Next time. I undressed, leaving my clothes in a pile on the floor and wondering if Robbie would be coherent enough to call me out over my hypocrisy when we were done. I took a condom from the drawer and rolled it on.

“Up on your knees now,” I said.

He twisted around to look behind him, his bleary focus sharpening when he took in the sight of me. He got his knees underneath him clumsily, thrown off kilter both by the restraints and his altered headspace.

“Good,” I said, the mattress dipping as I knelt on the bed behind him with the lube.

I didn’t take long with prep, and Robbie didn’t need much—he was open and pliant in moments. He breathed heavily against the mattress. His head was turned to the side. The one eye I could see was half closed, and his mouth hung open. His lips were wet, his expression dazed. His curls were wilder than usual. He pushed back against my fingers as I got him ready and let out a frustrated moan when I withdrew.

I slapped him on his stinging arse to send a jolt through him, and then lined up the head of my cock and pushed in. Robbie cried out, clenching hard around me, and shook like a sapling in a storm as I bottomed out. I had to still for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut, so that I didn’t come too quickly.

Jesus, it felt good. It had been too long since I’d done this with anyone, too long since I could be bothered—not because of grief, exactly, nothing as specific as that, but certainly malaise—and it wasn’t until I had my fingers curled around Robbie’s hips and my dick inside him that I remembered how sex could feel. How the same cortisol, adrenaline and endorphins that were swimming in Robbie’s bloodstream because of his spanking were currently flooding through mine as well. That sex wasn’t just a series of acts I was doing to Robbie, but an experience we were sharing.

What a strange thing to have forgotten.

Robbie moaned on each thrust, pushing back against me. He was still dozy, still clumsy, and I dug my fingers into his hips. I leaned down over him, so that my breath was hot against the sweaty nape of his neck, and he stilled.

“You don’t need to do anything, Robbie.” I told him. “Just take it.”

“Wanna come,” he mumbled.

“You will,” I said, and tugged sharply on the curls at his nape. He clenched harder around me and his eyes fluttered closed. I raked my fingers down his back to make him arch. “Good boy.”

He shuddered, and I suspected it was as much from the praise as from the physical sensations.