“I didn’t use a condom,” Connor blurted.
“You also came before I did,” Maggie said, her heart still thudding from the experience. She didn’t even care she hadn’t climaxed. A small problem. Connor would take care of that soon.
“Did you hear me?”
“I heard you,” Maggie said. “Don’t worry. I’m not at the right time in my cycle, but to set your mind at rest I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow and get the morning after pill.” Maggie felt a pang saying the words, even though it was the right thing to do. While she wanted children, it wasn’t right to have a baby to hook a man. And besides, she couldn’t explore spanking while pregnant. That sounded plain wrong.
“I’m sorry.” Connor’s voice was hoarse. His eyes held remorse, and Maggie knew he was being too hard on himself. She shared the blame.
“Hey, there are two of us in this bed. I didn’t notice the lack of condom until you said something. It will be all right, and to make sure I’ll ask the doctor for a prescription for birth control. Okay?”
Connor dipped his head and kissed her hard, pouring apology and passion into the kiss. She felt it clearly.
“I didn’t mean to manhandle you. I’ve never treated a woman that way before. I don’t know what came over me.”
Maggie frowned. Manhandled? He’d ripped her panties and taken rather than coaxed. So what? She hadn’t felt in danger or scared. In fact, she’d enjoyed every moment of their lovemaking.
“What are you talking about?” She pushed at his shoulders so she could see his expression. “Explain.”
“I was rough with you.”
“You didn’t hurt me. I like that you felt you could let go with me. I won’t break, you know. Besides, I have a mouth. If you ever do something I don’t like, I’ll tell you.”
Connor blinked, a wealth of emotions flashing through his blue eyes. Too fast for her to decipher them. “You enjoyed it? Me being rough?”
Maggie’s mouth twitched. “Apart from not coming. That bit sucked.”
He hesitated before the tension seeped from his shoulders. “I can fix that.”
“You should get right on it then,” Maggie said, allowing her teasing to rush free in a sassy grin. “I’m agog to see how you will do it.”
“Agog?”
“Yeah, it means eager and impatient.”
Connor groaned. “I know what it means.”
Her brows rose. “So?”
He snorted, shook his head once and pressed a swift kiss to her lips. “Don’t talk. I need to concentrate.”
“It’s true then. Men can’t multitask?”
“That’s a myth put out by women.”
“Prove it.”
“I can’t speak and use my mouth on you at the same time.”
Maggie suppressed a giggle and shook her head in a mournful manner. “All talk and no action.”
A snort escaped him. “Someone should have spanked you when you were younger.”
“Ah, but they didn’t, which is why I need it now.” She waited, taut with excitement, for his reply. It was the closest they’d ventured to a discussion of her sexual needs. Would he take the hint?
His brow furrowed then he moved down the bed. “We’ll see if you’re singing a different tune after I’m finished.”
“Promises, promises,” she taunted even though frustration roared through her. Why couldn’t she articulate what she wanted? Where the heck were her big girl panties?
The touch of his mouth sent every thought flying from her head, the slow laps of tongue firing lust to life. Damn, he was good at that. He found her sensitive spots until heat and pleasure curled through her. A whimper squeezed free, one she couldn’t contain. A flush of heat crept up her body, and she sucked in a hoarse breath.
“That feels good, Connor. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He laughed, the sound a puff of heat against her sensitive flesh. His lick across her clit pushed her over the edge. She convulsed against his lips, her pussy fluttering in orgasm.
“Connor,” she cried, almost sobbing because he made her feel so good.
When he lifted his head, his stubble rasped against the delicate skin of her inner thighs. He moved up the bed and kissed her. She sank into the kiss, tasting her juices on his lips. Murmuring, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight.
Connor rolled away, settling her at his side when she protested.
“Where did you grow up?” he asked.
“In Wellington. Why?”
“I realized I didn’t know much about you.”
“It’s not as if it’s a secret.” Her voice held a note of caution, the same caution she always experienced when discussing her family. It wasn’t as if she could come out and say, Oh, you know Elle Walker, the aging socialite who’s always in the gossip columns? That’s my mother. Oh, yeah and after one dumb mistake in my late teens my father is still convinced I take after her and will screw up again.
When she thought about it, she knew little about Connor either. He was right. Whenever they were with the others, they talked about work, about the present, about rugby. They didn’t get into personal things.
“How did you end up in Auckland?”
“My parents divorced when I was five. I resided with my mother for a while but having a child didn’t work with her schedule and I went to live with my father. My mother had family in Auckland and moved up here. My father has three other children with his second wife.”
“And you get on okay with your stepsiblings?”
Maggie laughed. It was easy to laugh now, but her childhood hadn’t been easy. “Mostly. My stepmother is good for my father. They have a lot in common.”
“What about your mother?”
“She remarried. I don’t see her often.” Maggie bit her lip, knowing she’d left huge gaps in her potted history. “To tell the truth my teenage years were difficult and it wasn’t an easy time for me or my father and his new family. We fought and I left as soon as I could. We get on better now with time and distance between us.” But he still slipped in a lecture each time they spoke or visited.
Connor stroked her upper arm before grasping her hip and pulling her into the cradle of his body. “My parents separated when I was four. My father used to hit my mother. He beat her so bad he put her in hospital. When he hit me too, she got out of the marriage.”
“Oh, Connor. I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. My mother remarried and my stepfather is a wonderful man. Frank’s been more of a parent than my real father.”
“That’s good.” Maggie said nothing else. She couldn’t. No wonder he’d worried about acting rough with her.
“Sometimes I worry I might take after my father.”
“No! Connor, no. You mustn’t think that.” Maggie pulled away enough to search his face. “I’ve known you for two years now, and you’ve never shown a sign of violence. You are not your father.”
“Blood will out, according to my grandmother.”
“Your grandmother is a silly old woman,” Maggie said in a fierce tone, thinking the woman bore a resemblance to her father for outspokenness. “You mustn’t believe her. You’re a good man, Connor Grey. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t believe that.” Unsure if she had convinced him, she kissed him. Hard. It was a bruising kiss designed to make him pay attention. Once she was sure she had him, she softened the caress, taking it into loving and seductive. When he groaned and his cock prodded her thigh, she knew she had his full attention.
This time their lovemaking was slow. They dragged out every last sensation in no hurry to finish. Their breaths mingled and each soft, tormenting stroke created an empty ache in her womb. She ran her hands down his back and dug her fingers into the taut globes of his backside, encouraging him to move. They only parted for the time it took for Connor to don a condom before coming together again. Strained breathing and sighs gave way to pleasure, the coil of energy in her pussy exploding into a shattering climax only seconds before Connor came. They stayed clasped together for a long time while their breathing returned to normal.
Sleepy and content, Maggie let her awareness drift. As usual her mind went straight to her blog and spanking. She thought about Connor and her promise to herself to strive for honesty. She even opened her mouth, ready to speak until another thought occurred. If Connor worried about turning violent like his father, how would he react when she asked him to spank her?
Sunday passed quickly. Maggie had expected Connor would leave her to visit the doctor on her own, but he insisted on going with her. After a quick stop at her place so she could grab clothes, they went to a walk-in clinic in a different part of town and saw the doctor together. The doctor suggested they both take blood tests, so they did. They left armed with prescriptions and advice to use condoms until the birth control protection became viable.
That evening, alone in her flat, Maggie recalled the hours she’d spent with Connor. He made her feel cherished, and she knew without a doubt, he’d never hit her in violence. He’d never tread the same path as his natural father. Now all she had to do was convince Connor of something she knew was fact.
How do I approach my partner and ask him to spank me?
I’ve met a man I like. The sex is great. More than great. And even better, we have a good relationship out of bed. I want to take our relationship to the next stage. How do I ask him to spank me when I know something in his background makes him abhor the whole idea of this sort of kink?
I don’t know what to do now. It’s true I’ve had more time to think about spanking and the repercussions of adding it to my sex life. When I approach him, I know he’ll be both shocked and reluctant. But I also know myself. I won’t be happy until I try this. The more I read both online in blogs and forums and also in erotic romances featuring spanking, the more I want to explore this for myself.
I was ready to ask last night. I’ve decided honesty is something to strive for—a good thing, I think. Anyway, I opened my mouth to state my desires and he started talking, asking questions about my childhood. I didn’t mind answering. Like many New Zealand children, I come from a broken home where both my parents remarried and I was plunged into a blended family. Some of you are probably nodding because you’re in the same situation. But what do you do where your partner comes from a violent background? What do you do if he’s worried about turning into the same monster as his father? How do I get him to come to terms with the fact that if I give him permission to spank me, he’s not dropping into the same dark pit that haunted his father?
I’ve tried patience. I really have. Some of you might tell me to forget spanking and grasp the happiness I’ve found already. I can’t do that because that would be allowing myself to settle.
I don’t know what to do, how to approach this problem. My mind is going in circles, and I’m frustrated. I don’t want a stranger to spank me. I could do that—pay to have someone spank me—but I know in my heart it wouldn’t work. I want love and laughter along with my spanking. I want rich fantasies and silly role-playing. I refuse to settle for second best.
If you have advice for me, I’d love to hear it. How did you introduce spanking to your relationship? Did it happen by accident or was it a planned thing introduced to bring spiciness to your relationship?
Connor read the post with growing alarm. His heart thumped so fast it felt as if he’d run a hundred meter sprint. He wanted Maggie, not just for now, but for the future. A curse slipped free.
Why the hell had she picked up that bloody book?
With a glance at his watch, he grabbed his car keys and slammed from his apartment to do what he’d been putting off. He’d hoped Maggie would let go of this spanking idea. But no, she continued to blog and had attracted a following. A sensation he identified as jealousy clutched his chest, squeezing so tight it felt as if someone had applied a vice, clamping it shut around his ribs.
He knew little of his mother’s first marriage, mainly because he’d been a child when it happened and she’d protected him from the worst of the violence. But, he needed answers. He needed to reconcile his love for Maggie with her desire for spanking. And he needed to do it now, before he lost her to another man.
Half an hour later, he knocked on his mother’s door before opening it and shouting a greeting. Two cars sat in the driveway, so he knew his parents were at home. He’d been so wound up he hadn’t thought to call ahead.
His mother appeared from the lounge. “Connor, what are you doing here?”
Frank appeared beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist. “What your mother means is we’re pleased to see you.”
He exchanged a grin with Frank. “Aren’t I allowed to pop in to see you whenever I feel like it?”
“Of course you are,” his mother said. “We were about to have a barbeque. Can you stay? You are still coming for my birthday?”
“I’d love to have dinner, and I wouldn’t dare miss your birthday,” Connor said. “Although isn’t it cold for a barbeque? It looked like rain during the drive here.” The crash of thunder punctuated his words and rain rattled the windows with enough force to make them look outside.
“You brought that rain with you.” The twinkle in his mother’s eyes belied the stern words.
Connor grinned again, pleased he’d come, despite the circumstances that brought him. “Don’t you listen to the weather forecasts?” Although he’d thought about inviting Maggie and maybe the others for his mother’s birthday, he’d changed his mind. It would be like making a statement of intent, and he didn’t want to do that, not publically at least.
“I look out the window,” his mother retorted. “I make the right forecast most of the time.”
“What can I get you to drink?” Frank asked. “Gabby and I are drinking wine, but we have beer if you’d prefer.”
“You two catch up,” his mother said. “I’ll get Connor a beer and cook the steaks.”
Connor accepted a beer and followed Frank to the lounge. He sat then jumped to his feet. He paced, unable to settle. Belatedly, he noticed Frank studying him in a quizzical manner.
“Problem?”
With his round glasses frames, Frank reminded him of an owl. A wise old owl.
“Yeah. I’m not sure how to say this so I’m going to lay it out fast before I die of embarrassment.” Connor paced another lap of the lounge, the movement helping him to concentrate. “I’ve met a woman, someone I like and want a future with. She wants me to spank her as part of our lovemaking, and I’m worried I’ll hurt her. I…I…what if I take after my father?”
“Connor,” his mother said from the doorway. “Son, you’re not like Larry. You have the most even temper I’ve known. I’ve never seen a hint of Larry’s violence in you. Never.”
Frank smiled a gentle smile, the one that told Connor how much he loved both his mother and him. The same smile he’d always showered on them. “At least you stopped his pacing. I thought I’d have to spring for new carpet because of the track he’s wearing.”
“Mum, I’m sorry you had to hear. I know you don’t like talking about him.”
“Connor.” His mother looked as if she might cry.
Hell. Connor glanced at Frank and wished he hadn’t come to visit his parents. He took three steps toward the door.
“Don’t you dare leave.”
Connor froze.
Frank chuckled. “Take a seat, son. You’re not going anywhere until we talk about this.”
“I want to hear about this woman who has you tied in knots,” his mother said. “Besides, it’s nasty out there. Do you want me to worry about you driving home in the middle of a storm?”
He caved, sinking into the nearest chair. What had he expected? That he could drop his bombshell and escape without taking return fire?
“Dinner won’t be long,” his mother said.
“Do you need any help?” Frank asked.
“I can cope with cooking a few steaks,” she said. “You stay with Connor. Give him the talk.” She winked and the adoring look that passed between them made Connor feel like a voyeur.
“Have you talked to her about what you’re feeling?” Frank asked, getting straight to business.
Connor grunted, the sound containing severe irritation. “I’ve started to talk a million times but it’s…I keep wimping out.”
“I know it’s difficult, son, but the main thing is communication.” His eyes sharpened. “How do you know she wants you to spank her if you haven’t discussed the matter?”
Connor felt his cheeks heat, aware his reply wouldn’t show him in a good light. “She has a blog where she discusses spanking. One of our friends told me, so I’ve been reading it.”
“And she doesn’t know.” Frank picked up his wine glass and took a sip, his manner slow and purposeful. Thinking-mode, Connor realized, remembering Frank appearing the same way on numerous other occasions.
“She doesn’t know I read her blog.”
“Connor Grey,” his mother said, barging into the room. “I can’t believe you’ve been spying on this poor girl.”
“It must run in the family,” Frank said in a mild voice. “Gabby, I thought you were cooking the steaks.”
His mother ignored Frank’s quiet reprimand to focus on him. “Sweetheart, there’s a big difference between abuse and consensual loving.”
A vision swept his mind—one he’d rather not have. “Mum, I don’t want to talk about sex. Frank, what do you think about those All Blacks? Man, they choked in their last game against the Wallabies.”
His mother wrinkled her nose. “I know about sex.”
“Nah, you found me in a cabbage patch,” Connor said. “How do you think the All Blacks will go against the Springboks?”
“I should have told the stork to take you right back and bring me a little girl. I’m sure she wouldn’t resort to underhand behavior. Sweetheart, you need to talk to her, tell her what’s on your mind and why you’re having a problem with the idea. If everything is in the open, you’ll find your relationship easier. When can we meet her?”
“It’s early days,” Frank said, coming to his rescue. “Give Connor a chance. I’m sure he’ll bring his friend to visit when he’s ready.”
His mother nodded. “Personally, I think the All Blacks will give the Springboks a whopping and send them back to South Africa with their tails between their legs. We’ll win the rugby match by at least twenty points. I’d place good money on it.”
Connor grinned. “How much do you want to bet?”
“Twenty,” his mother shot back. “And a promise you’ll bring your young lady to visit.”
Connor’s grin faded as he acknowledged the problems lying between him and a future with Maggie. Lies. Lots of lies. A good man would’ve left well alone, but Connor admitted the truth to himself. He wouldn’t have done a thing differently. He and Maggie worked well together. They could have a future. All he had to do was prove it to her.