The Price Of His Redemption

‘I love your feet,’ he said. ‘You know pain.’

‘Is that what you’re into?’ Libby swallowed.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m just saying I like it that you persisted. Don’t be embarrassed by them.’

‘Phew.’

‘Worried I was going to spank you?’

‘No.’

Technically, Libby Tennent lied.

In truth, he could put her over his knee this minute and she’d be delighted, and that worried her because she’d never thought like that in her life.

Yes, she was most unlike herself tonight.

And yet, when he called her over, when he said, ‘Come here,’ she was more herself than she had ever allowed herself to be, for she did as she wanted and went easily to him.

She climbed onto the bed but now she did not await instruction or summons. She knelt over him and kissed him, and he went to move his head but, no, she persisted, for it was her turn to kiss him now.

His lips were relaxed and accepting and she caressed them with hers, slipping in her tongue between them to get the lovely soft taste as his fingers took care of the ache in her breasts.

Usually Daniil did not care to linger, but tonight he dared to.

It was a night of firsts for both of them—for Libby it was a night of pure self-indulgence, for Daniil a brief break from resistance. Tonight he let himself feel—the softness of her lips and the breath that was sweet, the moans of her pleasure just from his taste and the soft shape of her breast that warmed and swelled to his palm.

Yes, it was a night of indulgence. Her lips never left his as she moved over him, sat naked on his stomach and kissed him more deeply. His hands left her breasts and slid down her waist but their ache was soon sated as he moved her higher and, pulling her down, took one breast in his mouth.