In response to his question, I shook my head. Any answer I could think of would leave me too vulnerable. Because the real answer wasn’t an answer at all. Why had I done all those things with Dylan when I’d barely known him?
I’d done them because in some way, I felt like I’d always known him. Like we fit together. He set things off inside me that I’d never experienced with any other man. Not just the orgasms, although those were life changing on their own. Dylan pushed me, dared me to take risks. With him, I felt safe outside my normal comfort zones.
Suddenly, everything he was saying made sense. I trusted him. I had from the very first moment. Right up until Steven had stepped in with his video, and everything fell apart.
“It’s alright,” he said, leaning in to kiss my lips. “I know why. I know why you ran, and I know why you came back. So do you. But now, I’m going to prove it to you.”
“What?” I breathed, hoping he meant the talking was over and it was time for sex. Dylan reached up and tugged away the sheet covering my naked body. His eyes raked me from my bare breasts to the dark vee of hair between my legs and back up to my face. He grinned, that determined glint back in his eyes. A thrill of fear and anticipation ran down my spine.
“It’s time for your punishment, Leigha. It’s time for me to show you what trust really means.”
2
Leigha
He stood and reached out his hand for mine. I took it, nervous about what he had planned, but not ready to say no. I knew in my heart that if I stayed where I was our relationship would be over. Whatever was coming, it was important to Dylan. Too important for me to back away, not if I really wanted something with him.
I followed him into the living room where he sat on the couch, his posture oddly formal. I stopped, not sure what I was supposed to do. Dylan gestured to his lap.
“Face down, over my knees.”
Realization washed through me. He couldn’t be serious.
“You’re going to spank me?” I asked, incredulous. I knew people did this, and Dylan was definitely bossy in bed. But spanking me was a little weird.
“Yes,” he said, the devilish glint in his eyes sending heat through my uncertain body. “And you’re going to like it.”
“I don’t think so,” I said, eyeing his lap. Dylan grinned again, that same knowing, determined grin that got me wet.
“You will,” he said. “This is it, Leigha. This is trust. I’m asking you to do something you think you’ll hate. You need to trust that I’d never hurt you. Trust that I’ll take care of you.”
“And if I can’t?” I asked, my voice thin.
“You can.”
I closed my eyes for a long moment, imagining what would happen if I turned and walked from the room. Despite his determination, and his declarations that I was his, somewhere inside myself I was certain this was a deal breaker for Dylan. He wanted my trust. If I wanted him, I was going to have to try. I didn’t want to live my life afraid of loss.
Maybe Dylan would break my heart if I gave it to him. But there was a chance he wouldn’t. All he was asking, this magnificent, brilliant, beautiful man, was for me to give him a chance to prove that he was worthy of my trust. When I thought about it that way, how could I say no?
I opened my eyes to see him, patient and silent, waiting for me. Too nervous to be slow, now that my mind was made up, I crossed the living room and lay across his lap, face down. He reached to position my injured arm safely along my side. My face burned with embarrassment and I was glad he couldn’t see.
I was getting more comfortable with my body, but not enough to feel good about presenting myself to Dylan ass first. My rear end wasn’t exactly my slimmest attribute. Before I could go too far down that train of thought, he distracted me with a sharp smack to the body part in question.
I gasped in a breath. It hurt. Not as bad as a knife to the arm and getting stitches, but it didn’t feel good. The second smack, on the other side of my ass, was just as bad. I blinked my eyes against the welling tears. Why did he want this from me? He’d said he wasn’t going to hurt me, and this fucking hurt. The third smack, just where my ass met the top of my thighs, stung like the first two.
“Dylan,” I sobbed. Before I could go on, he smoothed a hand over my smarting flesh.
“Shhh. I know it stings. It always stings at first. This is where you have to trust me. You’re made for this. I can tell.” He stopped his gentle strokes and smacked me again, three times in rapid succession. The pain built with each stroke until my rear end was glowing with it. It took all my will to stay still over his knees while tears trickled from my eyes. I opened my mouth to protest, then shut it. He’d asked for trust.