Chapter Twenty-Four
Gideon had been paddling her for a good twenty minutes when he finally stopped. Her backside felt raw and hot and swollen all at the same time, and her brain was short-circuiting from all the sensations and the effort she was putting into managing the pain.
She kept trying to accept it, welcome it, let it roll over or through her—all those things that were supposed to help. But her body was of the opinion that it really fucking hurt so why the hell should she? Of course her arousal was also slicking the inside of her thighs so there was that too. Maybe she’d ask to be tied down next time—she could take more and her mind protested less when she was restrained.
Both her heart and her brain glowed as Gideon rubbed her bottom and her back, whispering praise into her ear as he nuzzled at her cheek and her neck. If she weren’t such a puddle of jelly, she’d hug him, wrap her limbs around his strong frame and cling to him.
Unfortunately—or fortunately?—she could barely open her eyes, could barely make a sound because he’d spaced her out well and good. What a pleasure, what a gift to be so outside the confines of her body, to feel as though her very self had been scattered and dispersed. Was this how Gideon felt when he prayed? If so, she understood why he did it.
“Plum, love? Can you talk to me?”
“Little,” she mumbled and she could feel Gideon’s laugh reverberate through his body because he was lying alongside her now.
“You seem pretty deep in subspace. Are you okay?”
“So good.”
“Alright,” he said, amusement tingeing that smooth whisky voice of his, like the faint taste of cherry in an old fashioned.
He petted her for a few minutes and she let him, enjoying the soft caresses from the same hand that had been beating her moments before.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Weren’t you going to gag me and fuck my ass?”
It was always funny when Gideon snorted. Her buttoned up British priest with a very firm hand,snorting. She loved to hear it.
“That was the plan, yes, but you seem pretty well-cooked and we don’t have time for you to sober up before church.”
Hmm. She was stick-a-fork-in-her-done, for sure. Though she didn’t see why that should stop him. He was getting out of bed already and no, justno. That was not how this was supposed to go.
“But I like to fuck this way.”
“If you don’t stop saying ‘fuck,’ you’re going to get spanked again, young lady. Language, please.”
She huffed and made the effort to turn over, wincing when her backside made contact with the mattress. But then it settled into a nice low burn like a banked fire and she relished the heat.
“Please? I was looking forward to it.”
He stood there, nearly naked except for his black boxer briefs that contained the bulge of his considerable erection, and she loved the shape of him. Boxy, strong, and broad compared to her own softness. His biceps swelled as he put his hands on his narrow hips, and the mat of hair on his chest that narrowed down to his waistband nearly did her in. God, he was sexy.
“You were looking forward to me stuffing your mouth and your tight little ass full, were you?”
She nodded in the face of his cocked brow, doing her best doe eyes.
“And you’re not too far gone to give full consent?”
“I said yes before and I haven’t changed my mind.”
Gideon’s mouth tightened and his forehead creased. Ugh, she didn’t want him to say no. She wanted to get fucked. Like, a lot.Alota lot.
“Hey, how about this,” she offered. “Ask if you can whip me.”
“Can I…whip you?” he asked, one of his dark brows forming an upside down V.
She knew he enjoyed it, and she also knew it was on her hard limits list because she hadn’t been keen on whips in the first place and when she’d worked up the nerve to try them, she’d had a bad experience. Paddles? Yes. Canes? Sure. Evil sticks? Okay. Whips?