by Alison Tyler
I couldn’t disobey. I opened my eyes, wrapping my arms tight around my body under that blanket. It felt silly now to have bought the thing. So noticeable in this stark black and white world. What was I trying to prove?
“How did you think I’d respond to your changes? Did you think I’d be angry?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t know.”
“Or pleased?”
I shrugged again. I’d known he would have a reaction, but I wasn’t sure what it would be.
“Did you think I’d kick you out for buying dishes that don’t match?” He was looking at me directly as he spoke, and he didn’t wait for my answer. “You’re testing your boundaries,” Jack grinned. “Like a child. You want to see if you push this far, what will happen. If you’re late to a meeting, will I break up with you, or merely spank your ass until you can’t sit down? You’re on a quest.” He was still smiling, and that made me breathe easier. “Which is understandable. This is a whole new world for you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Jack.” I wondered if he was right. Was I testing my limits? Was that what I was doing?
“Truth?” he asked. “I don’t really care. I wouldn’t see it if you painted the floor blue, if you hung naked pictures on the wall, if you decorated the kitchen in cherry-print paper.” He took a breath, then clarified, “I mean, I’d see it, of course, but I wouldn’t. It wouldn’t matter. Yes, I like things orderly, but that’s because I’ve lived alone for so long, and it’s easier if there isn’t much stuff to fuck around with. But if you want a red blanket, you can have a red blanket. If you want roses, you can have roses. I’m not trying to be callous. I don’t care. What’s important to me is that, at the end of the day, I get to do this.”
I’d been waiting. I knew there would be a moment when he would strike. But he’d lulled me, soothed me with his deep, sexy voice, and when the moment came, I was unprepared. Jack pulled the blanket away with an unexpected flourish, and then he paused. I’d had the blanket up to my neck as if I were cold. He didn’t know I was naked underneath.
“That makes things easier, doesn’t it?” he murmured, and I found myself hauled over his lap, his slacks rough on my naked skin, knee pressing up against my sex. He started to spank me, working slowly, methodically, slapping his open palm against my right cheek, then my left. He had a rhythm to his movements, building the intensity of the blows as they grew gradually faster, until he reached across me and snagged a paddle from the top drawer of the bedside table. It was shaped like a Ping-Pong paddle, smooth on one side and rough like sandpaper on the other, and that was the side he used, again and again, winning tears within moments as he punished me. Not for an infraction or for failing in any way. Punished me because he wanted to. Because he could. Because that’s what Jack did.
I had a feeling that his goal tonight was to make my ass as deeply scarlet as the blanket. I thought about how I’d felt when I’d bought the thing, wandering the stores on La Brea, choosing this one because of the softness and the hue. Reminding me of the line in the Stones song.
Jack smacked my ass until his arm must have started to ache, and then pushed me onto the bed on top of that brand-new blanket and fucked me. Truly fucked me.
I stared at the roses on the dresser as his cock thrust inside of me, watching as one lone petal dropped to the polished black surface. Jack reached one hand under my body and let his fingertips find my clit, using the weight of my own body to bring me to climax, waiting for the tremors to start before he finally let himself come.
He sprawled out next to me afterwards, in his slacks still but with his shirt off now, and he had me lie on my stomach at his side, so that he could admire the blush of my ass, so that he could place his hand on my burning cheeks and feel the warmth throbbing.
“As long as I can spank your beautiful ass, whenever I want to, whenever I crave,” Jack whispered, “I don’t care about the rest. Paint the whole damn room red if you’d like. And then I’ll whip the same hue into your perfect pale skin.”
His words made me tremble as hard as my climax had. His fingers began roaming more purposefully now, up and down, then lower, between my legs, letting me know that he had just started. That the night was still young.
And suddenly I understood. It didn’t matter if the rooms were black and white or rainbow-colored, if they were bare or filled to overflowing. All I needed was Jack. He was what made the place home.
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First published in the United States of America in 2013 by Cleis Press, Inc.,
Published in the UK in 2013 by Black Lace,
an imprint of Ebury Publishing
A Random House Group Company
Copyright © Pretty Things Press, 2013
Alison Tyler has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
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