“No, bambina . When I'm mad, you'll know it,” he said, dangling his index finger and middle finger down in front of his mouth to indicate fangs.
She smiled reluctantly. She considered what he'd said. “What kind of release?”
“I don't know—spanking can be a way to let go of stress or guilt or even self-loathing you might be holding.”
“Catharsis.”
He nodded. “I would say it's one part catharsis and one part surrender. You must trust me enough to know I'll take care of you when you let go.”
“Do I get a safe word?”
He shook his head. “No. It's about surrendering your control. You have to believe I know how to read your limits.”
She looked at him, considering that.
“I got it right this time, didn't I?” he challenged.
That was true. He had stopped exactly when she had panicked completely.
“I want to feel it again.” She was nuts. Certifiably crazy.
He pointed to his eyes and she met them, drawing in her breath as the fire returned to her backside.
“Are you ready to finish it?”
She noticed he didn't ask her if she wanted to finish it. Because she didn't. But she rolled over on his lap anyway. He pulled her back up to standing, though.
“Pull down your pants, Kate,” he said, the soft command in his voice sending a ripple of fear and delight through her whole body.
She unbuttoned her jean shorts, pulling them slowly down.
“Panties, too.”
She peeled her panties down, feeling completely exposed. For some reason, she covered her lady parts with her hand, though he was already intimately acquainted with that particular part of her body. Her belly was doing flip flops.
“Over my knee,” he said softly.
She bowed her head and awkwardly leaned over his knee, realizing that she'd greatly preferred when he had pulled her into position himself, rather than having her put herself there. There was something completely humiliating about it.
He started up again slowly, striking one cheek and then the other, and as he picked up speed and she felt the intensity of the burn increase she again started to struggle and panic, but he didn't even pause. If anything, it seemed he was striking her harder. It occurred to her that with his vampire strength, he would never need a whip or a paddle—his hand alone could probably easily bruise her if he wielded it with one ounce of his true strength. So he was using restraint—for him this was probably quite gentle, even though for her, the pain was so intense that tears were running down her face. That thought helped her calm down. But then, that meant it could get much worse if he wanted it to, didn't it? Oh God, she was an absolute wreck, and there was nothing she could do.
She tried to wriggle away, somehow dodge the punishing hand that kept spanking her over and over, but she was a complete captive—she couldn't get away from the pain and it wasn't going to stop until Dom decided it was over. She realized that there was nothing she could do but ride it out until it was over. The tears turned into full-fledged sobs and she wept—for the position in which she found herself, her mismanagement of her time, the stress of the paper looming over her head, the difficulties of navigating this new relationship with Dom—everything. And as she felt it all flowing out, even as his hand kept striking her blazing bare butt cheeks, she gave up the struggle and went limp, exhausted. At that moment, his hand paused, then he gave a few more cursory smacks before he started gently rubbing her bottom.
“You found it,” he said softly.
She had? She had. Her sobs took on a half-laughing sound. In spite of the tears and the pain, she did feel very different. She felt relieved, released. There was a glowing feeling—much stronger than a post-sex glow—much more vibrant. And now that Dom had pointed it out like an accomplishment, she felt absurdly proud of herself. Like she'd just won a marathon or something.
He started to pull her panties back up, but