Only one way to find out. . .
Nope. Not going there.
“A spanking can be a punishment or for pleasure. It can also be a stress reliever.”
Stress reliever? Was he serious?
“Sometimes, you need someone to keep you accountable. To guide you when you’re feeling lost. Hold you when you’re sad or in need of comfort or just need another’s touch. To protect you when you’re vulnerable. And punish you when you put yourself at risk.”
“By spanking?”
“It’s effective. Imagine me pulling your panties down, placing you over my knee, lifting your gown up to reveal your bare bottom. You might wriggle your legs, cry out a little, protest, but I’d hold you steady, maybe I’d need to hold your hands against the small of your back in order to stop you reaching back and getting in the way of your punishment. Then I’d start smacking that bottom. Maybe lightly at first then harder. Until your bottom turned pink then red. Until you were crying. Until you said you were sorry and begged me to stop. Then I’d turn you over and hold you tight, rocking you, telling you all was forgiven and that you were my good little girl.”
Those words. . .holy fuck. . .they painted a picture that she had to admit she wanted entirely too much. This wasn’t right. He was talking about hurting her. . .and she desperately wanted to experience it.
The door opening caught her attention before she could reply to him. Just as well since she’d no idea what the heck she’d been going to say.
That’s terrible.
You’ll never do that to me.
Touch me and die.
Don’t touch me and I will die.
Do it now.
Shit. She was messed up, right? Or maybe not, since other people liked this sort of stuff. So, she couldn’t be that weird.
Oh hell.
* * *
He didn’t want to leave her.
He had to force himself to walk out of the room, after giving her a soft kiss on the forehead and an admonishment to behave. He knew he’d worry about her the entire time. But her nurse had promised to look after her, and not let her walk anywhere on her own. The doctor had reiterated that he didn’t want her to walk on her injured foot for a couple of days.
The heat of the sun beat down on him. He quickly climbed in his car, and turned on the air, blasting it on his face. But it did nothing to cool his insides.
He wanted her.
But he’d already pushed far enough. She wanted to submit, but she was holding herself back. He got it. She didn’t know him. She’d never done this. She was sick and vulnerable.
He groaned. “Jesus, man.” He should have just taken care of her like his nan wanted without bringing up her Little.
He was lucky she hadn’t kicked him out of her hospital room.
“Fuck, way to try to bulldoze her, man.” He was still off-center. And his desire to look after her combined with his guilt was making him far too possessive. He needed to get a move on if he was going to visit his grandmother, go back to her place and get some of Gigi’s stuff for her then grab some dinner and bring it back.
And still, he didn’t want to leave.
“She’s in safe hands.” But they weren’t his hands and that was the whole point. Nobody could take care of her like him.
He drove away from the hospital. Lupus was a serious disease and he was really worried about her. Her own body was essentially attacking itself. She was supposed to be under regular care of a rheumatologist, but she’d admitted to missing her last appointment. He tightened his hands around the steering wheel. That was unacceptable. He’d seen that same look on the doctor’s face in the hospital. Disapproval. She’d bitten her lip nervously, flicking her gaze back and forth between them as she’d confessed that.
That wouldn’t be happening again.
The doctor wanted her to be monitored for at least a few more days while they kept an eye on her kidney function. And once she went home, he had emphasized that she would need rest and to remain as stress free as possible.