The Discipline

by Jade A. Waters

  I groaned. Dean’s thrusts rocked me on the hardwood floor, splitting me apart. His force ratcheted the pleasure up once more, and when his fingertips drifted down between us, the rub of my clit launched me into space.

  Dean buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Come for me,” he growled.

  “Yes...yes!”

  “Good girl, yes...” Dean thrust again, his thumb swirling around my clit, my chafed ass rubbing against the floor. I dug my heels into the hardwood and lifted myself to take him in. I shook beneath the weight of his body and his wild, spastic thrusts. Dean’s teeth bore into my neck and I cried out his name. He came inside, the heat between us rivaling the vortex that hadn’t stopped whirling around in my head.

  Both of us panted on the dining room floor for several minutes. Dean kissed my lips and cheeks, his fingers taking a lazy stroll along my thigh. He rolled off me and against my side, his softened cock peeking out over the underwear he’d shoved out of the way to fuck me, and his pants skewed over his hips. I lifted a hand to the top button of his wrinkled shirt, amused that I lay there naked beside his fully dressed self on his dining room floor.

  “What’d you think?” he asked. He drew me into a hug, his body warm and firm, comforting, the smile on his face indisputable.

  “It was different. But sexy.” I swallowed. “Really sexy.”

  “You were sexy.” Dean brushed back my hair, and I tried to comprehend my feelings. The focused nature had thrown me off at first, but I’d liked it. There was no denying that.

  As Dean kissed me, I closed my eyes at the feel of his body. For the longest time we lay there, hushed, the crash of the waves beyond his house a gentle lull to accompany the sound of his breath beside me.

  Chapter Seven

  The sun hadn’t fully risen when I woke, and the light trickling through the sheer curtains was gentle enough that I kept my eyes closed. The fact that I lay here with Dean on Christmas morning brought a smile to my lips. Our moments, from lusty and hot like last night to this sweetness in our sleep beside one another, never stopped enthralling me.

  I stretched out my leg, careful not to shift too hard on the mattress surface, but Dean stirred behind me. His hand reached out to brush over my hip.

  “Are you awake?” he whispered.

  “Yes. Barely.”

  “Mmm.” He uttered the noise before scooting against me, the width of his chest warm on my back and his legs folding up beneath my thighs. He brushed aside my hair, then pressed soft kisses on my neck and shoulder. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” I looped my arm around my waist, grazing the fingers he’d laid on my hip before he slid them up over my arm, then under it to glide over the Greek letters on my side. ελευθερία. Eleutheria.

  Do you find freedom when captured?

  He’d asked me this our first morning together, his fingers playing over my tattoo like they were now after we’d shared a wild night, where he’d invited me to explore this intense, delectable world with him. It’d been easy to say yes, because how could one refuse the adventures it felt like she’d been craving her entire life? Dean had drawn each and every one of my desires into the open and somehow inspired even more.

  “Do you know what I dreamed of?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Last night. The way you looked over my knee.”

  I rubbed my cheek against the pillow and opened my eyes to Dean nestling closer. I hadn’t dreamed of it, but I thought about it now. I’d liked trying it, and knowing it excited him as much as it did had turned me on, too. The deliberate discipline still felt silly, but it was hard to miss how much we’d both enjoyed it.

  Dean arched up his hips, his nascent erection rubbing against my ass.

  “What’d you like most?” I asked.

  Dean ran his hand down over my hip, caressing it while he spoke against my neck. “Most? Hard to say.” He curved his fingers around my hip bone like I loved, teasing me with the dig of his fingertips. “The fact that your ass was on display for me. The way you jumped around on my knee...and rubbed your clit on me.” I took a sharp inhalation, and Dean shifted his fingers forward, stroking the top of my mound with the faintest touch. “The sound of my hand on you? That was sexy. The way you cried out, too. And when I hit your pussy...” After he said this, he ran his fingers lower. I parted my legs, the blanket and sheets falling away from us. “Did you like that?”

  “Yes.” The spanking I was still pondering, but that, yes. That had done me in. Dean’s fingers crept between my folds, insistent, exploring. He pushed them inside and I moaned.

  “You’re already wet. Dripping from us talking about it. I love how talking does this to you, gets you wet like this...”

  I rolled backward into him, kicking my leg out and over his thigh to give him better access. Dean slid his arm between the mattress and my waist and hoisted me until I was almost on top of him. The fingers of his other hand sank in as far as they could. He clapped a hand over my breast and held me to him, his mouth hot on the top of my shoulder.

  “Oh, God...”

  Dean drew his fingers out, then swiped the pads fast over my clit like I loved. I gasped. “Your clit is so swollen. Open your legs more, love.” I did, splayed over him, and Dean tugged me fully atop him to plunge his fingers in again. I laced my fingers into my hair, loving how he held me, how deep his fingers sank before he stole them out to rub my wetness all over my swollen bud.

  “Fuck...” I bucked my hips but he pressed harder into me.

  “Stay. Open, Maya. Like this.” I moaned, his fingers dipping in, then out in a deft tease. He cinched me tighter with the hand on my chest to clap the other gently against my cunt.

  “Oh...oh, yes.”

  Dean growled behind me. “You like that, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I whimpered, unable to stop the word with how good it felt. He did it firmer his next time before shoving his fingers deep. When he drew them out, he clapped them against me again, making hard contact with my opening in a wet pop. I cried out, and he rubbed my clit and slapped my cunt once more. Pleasure danced its way through my senses, unfurling in my heart. Dean jammed his fingers inside and bit my flesh.

  When I moaned, he said, “Come for me.”

  It amazed me how Dean’s words could work me as easily as his fingers did, yet with the next smack of his hand, his grip on my breast and the teeth he buried in my shoulder, I shook at the sensation threatening to take hold. Dean held me tighter, his fingers sinking as deep as he could get them with his position beneath me. His solid cock dug into my ass cheek. I started to shake, and he thrust faster, tweaking my nipple, biting me again.

  “Yes. Come.” The shocking, sweet sound of another clap against my pussy echoed in the room. Tingles spread through my folds, and he dipped his fingers back in while I writhed in his arms, bombs exploding in every cell. He urged me on with low, throaty whispers before smacking me again, the orgasm coming on in a torrential downpour of ecstasy that overtook my skin, my blood. I wailed. Dean smacked me before sinking his fingers deep, clinging to me in my spasm above him. “Yes, kitten. Just like that.”

  “Fuck!”

  I was still riding my high, heat shooting through me, when Dean bucked up his hips in a gesture for me to move. Disoriented, I followed his guidance until he had me arranged as he wanted me—on my knees, my breaths smothered in the sheets and my ass high in the air. He pushed my hands for me to grip the bed strap that lived on his mattress. Then he clamped his fingers around my hips and shoved in with little effort.

  “Oh, God...you’re on fire inside.”

  I clutched the strap as he thrust, his fingernails digging into my sides. With his next drive, he clapped a hand on my ass cheek, then yanked me back onto him.

  “Yes,” I moaned.

  Dean started fucking me,
hard, his breaths ragged, his stabs deep. “God, yes,” he groaned, the sound gritty, primal. He thrust faster, spanking me again, and I held tight to the strap, overwhelmed with his force and yet loving it all the same. The sheets blocked my vision though it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Sparks of light flashed behind my eyes as Dean wrapped his body around me, his fingertips fast to my clit, working me until I started crying out for more. “Yes. I’m going to... Oh, Maya!”

  Dean plowed inside, the thrust pushing my cheek along the mattress while the circle of his finger around my clit drove me wild. I moaned as the wave washed over me. It shook me completely, an earthquake rattling me apart. Dean fell to my back and nipped at my skin with his teeth.

  “Fuck,” he said, the word a rumble of sound. He dragged his hands up my belly and we both collapsed on our sides. Dean’s kisses ran over my shoulder, neck and cheek as we gasped for air.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered. His body was sweaty against mine, but my hair was wet, too.

  “Merry Christmas, beautiful.”

  I shuffled around to face him, letting him gather me up in a delicious morning embrace. “You too, handsome.”

  Dean kissed my cheek, then my neck, before he fell back and stared at me with a sparkle in his eyes. “That was sexy.”

  I hadn’t caught my breath, but it hitched when he took my hand and kissed my fingertips.

  “How about breakfast?”

  I grinned. “Sounds perfect.”

  * * *

  “Well, he’s sweet and clever. And quite handsome,” I said into the phone.

  Dean turned to wink at me from his position at the stove, his own phone propped on his shoulder and his gray athletic sweats slung low and sexy on his hips. The smell of pancakes, bacon and eggs had taken over the kitchen not all that long after we’d walked into it, and I took a sip of my coffee while he went back to his phone call with his parents.

  My half brother, Ryan, laughed in my ear. “You’re swooning, kid.”

  “Whatever! Do you know how many times I had to listen to you tell me what a fox Clara was?”

  “Ah, you’ve got me there.” Ryan’s voice made me smile. I hadn’t seen him in over a year, since he’d run off to the East Coast with his new girlfriend, Clara. The move had been sudden, as had his immense feelings for her, but I’d wanted to be as supportive as possible with how close we’d always been. I missed having him around, though. I adored the guy.

  “You two good?”

  “Yeah. We’re... Oh, hang on.” Ryan said something to Clara in the background, and I figured with them three hours ahead, they were probably about to walk out the door for Christmas lunch at her family’s house. When Ryan returned to the line, he said, “Anyway, hopefully I’ll meet Dean one day.”

  “Yes. Probably. He’s in the wedding—he’s Alex’s best man.”

  “Sweet. I’ll meet him in August?”

  “I think so.”

  “He’d better take care of my sis till then.”

  Dean served breakfast onto two plates, and I heard him say, “You too. Love you, Mom,” before he shut down his call and carried the plates to the table. I had a feeling this man—my affectionate, caring boyfriend who could switch to dominating, commanding lover in a matter of a few words—could not only take care of me, but that he’d been the one I’d been seeking to lure me out of my past all along.

  “He will,” I said. “I’m sure of it.”

  “Good. As it should be.”

  Dean stood beside me and slid his fingers along my chin. I grinned up at him with a sway of my knee, having arranged myself in the chair with one foot on the seat and his robe loosely draped around me. He parted his lips at the view I almost flashed him, and I bit my tongue when he mouthed, Trouble. But he abruptly held up a finger and went back to the fridge, leaving me to finish up my call.

  “Okay. I should probably go. Breakfast is served. Cooked by Dean, no less.”

  “Nice. Okay, I approve of this,” Ryan said. I warmed at my protective brother’s comment. He’d been looking out for me for as long as I could remember. “I should go anyway. Clara’s giving me the look.”

  “Can’t have that. Glad I got to talk to you, Ryan! Miss you.”

  “You too. Merry Christmas!”

  “Yes. Merry Christmas to you! Love you.”

  “Right back at you, kid.”

  I set my phone on the table as Dean returned with two slices of apple pie and took his seat. “Pie? Really?”

  “It’s Christmas. Of course.”

  I chuckled while he leaned over to kiss me, and the two of us dug in. After our morning fuck, we’d both brushed our teeth, then Dean had impressed me more with how wonderful he could be, kissing me tenderly by the stove before we set off to call our respective families. That wasn’t even counting his efforts to cook up this delicious spread.

  “You’re awfully smiley,” Dean said.

  “I’m happy.”

  “Me too.” He caressed my arm, and after munching on a piece of bacon, he gave my elbow a light pinch. “I’m excited for you to open your present.”

  I loved how we could dance between heavy and sweet. The sparkle in his eye against the tussle of his morning hair made my heart swell. “You’re cute.”

  “You’ll see! I think you’ll love it. It’s perfect for us.”

  “My present is for us, hmm?” Dean flashed his most seductive smile but stayed quiet. “What is it?” When he shook his head, I kept pestering between the bites of bacon I broke off and tasted. “Did you get me lingerie?”

  “No. Better.”

  “Ohh...a vibrator?” I teased.

  “Nope. But that’s a good one, too.” We’d used mine in our play before. Now, the idea brought a giggle from me as he brushed his hand over mine. Our exploration was incredible, but knowing how serious we’d grown, how special this morning and all that came with the holiday felt to me, a sex toy as a present was obviously an absurd notion. “No more questions,” Dean said, pointing at my plate. “Let’s finish up and find out, shall we?”

  “Deal.”

  We hurried through the rest of breakfast, talking about nothing of real importance while the morning sun poured in through the front windows. The brightness lit up the already glittering mini Christmas tree Dean had decorated in honor of the holidays, spreading green, red, blue and silver flecks of light over the living room carpet. The atmosphere was cheery and warm, and my heart thudded over so many things while we finished up: whatever he’d gotten me, whether he’d like my gift to him and this cozy, romantic Christmas morning together. When I’d met Dean all those months before, I never would’ve imagined this.

  After stacking my plate on his, Dean took my hand. “You ready?”

  “So ready.”

  We scurried to our knees in front of the tree, where both of us had left our presents to one another last night. Dean nudged the large box wrapped in gold paper and a huge burgundy bow toward my knees, and I handed over the small rectangular one I’d wrapped in blue paper for him. He turned the box around in his hands and gave it a shake before pretending to try and peek inside.

  I rolled my eyes. “You first.”

  “If you insist.” Dean unwrapped his present with care, and I could almost picture him as a kid with the expression on his face. His exuberant smile lifted the scar visible through the stubble on his cheek while he peeked back at me every few seconds with a smirk. Once he saw the gold-embossed label with the name of a local jeweler on the box lid, he paused and narrowed his eyes. He opened the box to reveal the watch inside and his exhalation came out a heavy gust. “Oh. This is... Wow. This is so nice.” Dean took the watch out with a sway of his head. “God. Thank you.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I do. But...” His jaw tightened. “You really didn’t have
to—”

  I pressed my fingers against his lips, then helped put the watch onto his wrist. “I wanted to. I love giving presents, plus I thought it would look good on you. And it does.”

  Dean dipped in for a kiss, his eyes soft when he pulled away. He studied the watch. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  His quiet surprised me, but once he raised his head, he stroked the exposed skin of my thigh where the robe had parted. “Okay. Your turn.” His lips turned up at the corner, and the box felt heavier in my lap. “I hope you like it.”

  I hooked my finger under the side of the wrapping to loosen the tape, the joy I felt beside him immense. Under Dean’s steady gaze, I untied the bow—but after I peeled back the paper and lifted the lid of the box, I wasn’t prepared for what I found inside.

  Nestled on a bed of green tissue paper lay a flogger, its long black handle secured by leather braids that coiled around its length. From there it split into several blue suede strands running two feet below, curled neatly within the box like snakes waiting to strike.

  I held my breath, my head down. My eyes stayed glued to the present, emotions flooding me in confused chaos, and it took me a few seconds to kick into gear. I trailed my fingertips over the handle and along the suede strands, a tremor inching its way up my spine.

  I’d just said yes to a formal spanking last night.

  Shouldn’t we have had a conversation before upping the ante like this?

  “What do you think?”

  He squeezed my knee, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. Not with the bristle of frustration lodging my words in my throat. We’d settled into a natural rhythm of him giving instructions and testing me, with me following along. But a flogger?

  “Maya?”

  I breathed in and looked at Dean. His expression was so lusty and intrigued. “I’m surprised.”

  “Because?”

  “Because...” I gnawed my cheek, not comfortable with the nerves battling it out among a dozen questions in my head. I tried to moderate my voice. “Because you officially spanked me for the first time last night, but somewhere before that, you jumped to flogging?”