He slid his hand between her legs and began caressing her, fingers lightly skimming the lips of her *.
She let out a little whimper and shifted her weight, opening her legs wider.
His fingers probed deeper, and she drew her breath in between her teeth in a sharp hiss of pleasure.
Then his free hand descended on the round ivory globe of her right butt cheek, delivering a stinging smack.
“Oh,” she cried out, and his fingers moved faster on her *, strumming her clit, playing her like an instrument, as he spanked her again. And again. The stinging sensation was delicious, and she squirmed with pleasure, whimpering with each smack. His hand moved to the other cheek, warming the skin with each stinging slap, and she quivered beneath him, struggling to catch her breath.
“You just love to be punished, don’t you, Ginger?” His voice was hoarse with desire.
“Yes,” she moaned, “Oh, yes.”
The heat rose up inside her and then broke and flowed over her in hot waves. She clutched at the couch, fingers sinking into the fabric as she wailed her pleasure and the orgasm shuddered through her body.
“Don’t move,” he commanded, and she heard him fumbling with his belt and his pants, and then she felt the thick head of his cock sliding between the slick, wet petals of her *.
With a savage thrust, he speared her, forcing himself several inches inside.
She clutched the couch harder, knuckles turning white. “Yes,” she moaned, and he grabbed her hips and thrust again, sliding all the way in and holding her firmly.
“I’ll never let you go,” he said, and drew back to thrust again.
“Oh, God,” she whimpered, face down on the couch. He pumped harder, and she felt the tickle of his pubic hair against her buttocks, and the slapping of his testicles against her bare skin.
He slammed into her so hard that it rocked her body with each thrust, and she put her hands flat on the couch and braced herself, pushing back against him. She wanted all of him, wanted him to bury himself inside her to the hilt. He was so big that she could barely contain him, and she loved it, loved how it felt to squeeze his stiff cock with her muscles.
His breath grew harsher and faster, and his hands tightened on her hips, holding her firmly in place as his groans of pleasure reached a crescendo. His hot, sticky seed flooded inside her, and she felt his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm.
Finally, slowly, he pulled out of her with a groan. He pulled her up and spun her around, taking her into his arms, crushing her up against him.
“We can work this out,” he told her. “Stay here with me, Ginger.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed up against him, breathing in his scent, the smell of sweat and cologne mixed with the sweet scent of sex.
Her heart swelled in her throat, with an aching longing. In his arms she felt warm and safe. The thought of walking away sent icy shivers through her.
“I want to more than anything in the world,” she said. “But I can’t make any promises right now. We’ll have to take things day by day.”
He let out his breath in a frustrated hiss. “Miss Ginger, you’ve just earned yourself another spanking,” he said.
Chapter Thirteen
The setting sun lit the horizon on fire, painting the tips of distant treetops red and yellow. Marigold stood in the backyard staring into the distance, arms folded, a frown creasing her face.
“That’s not how you’re supposed to look when you’re standing out here in God’s country, watching a beautiful sunset,” Ginger said.
“I told Henry I couldn’t see him any more.” Marigold’s face was a mask of misery. Her eyes glittered with angry tears.
“Oh,” Ginger said. “Was he bad in bed?”
“No, he was incredible. Ten out of ten. Wait, make that twenty out of ten. He found erogenous zones that I never even knew existed, or maybe he just created them with his tongue.”
“I did not need to know that last part. Was he rude while you were out on dates? Flirted with other women?”
“No, he held the door open for me, acted like I was the only woman in the world, and seemed fascinated with everything that I said.”
“Wow. He sounds like such a douchebag. I’d have dumped him too.”
“I know, right? What a dick.” Marigold sounded aggrieved.
“Remind me again why we’re mad at him?”
“Because he’s acting like the perfect guy and then he’s going to do whatever it is that he does that breaks my heart.”
“Right. Of course. Dick.” Ginger turned to walk back to the house, but then she stopped.
Just because her relationship was doomed didn’t mean that everybody else’s relationship had to be doomed. She tried to think about how to diplomatically approach the situation. How to get Marigold to see how foolish she was being.
“Marigold, you’re being a total, pig-headed dumbass.”
Oops. That hadn’t come out in the loving, supportive manner that she’d meant it to. Maybe she was a teensy bit crabby because she was still stressed out about the situation with the sheriff.