Lanie's Lessons (3 page)

“That’s my girl. You want me to take control, don’t you?”

Mindless with arousal so intense she couldn’t speak, she only managed to produce a whimper in answer. He lingered another minute, plunging into her dripping channel and fucking her slowly with two fingers.

“You’re absolutely beautiful, Lanie, and I can think of nothing I want more than to drive into this drenched pussy.” He emphasized his words by gliding in deeper. “I plan to do just that, but we need to finish what we’ve started here. I’m giving you a dozen spanks this first time, for the sass and the cursing.”

Biting back a groan, she canted her hips and spread wider for him. It was too much, obliterating her tenuous control as the rising pressure threatened to burst free.

“Ethan… sir, I’m gonna come.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, he pulled his fingers free.

“No,” she cried, “please, don’t stop. I’m so close.” Her breath came out in little pants and her skin beaded with perspiration. “Please,” she begged.

“Not yet, Lanie. You’re being punished. You can come after your spanking, when I’m deep inside you, not before.”

A flurry of swats rained down, a touch harder, as he alternated from one cheek to the other. Although it stung, it was also arousing. The warmth he was building on her behind was spreading to other places nearby, making them tingle, the force of each swat nudging her forward until the front of her pussy bumped against his hard thigh, and the pressure ignited a burning fire inside. It felt good—so damn good—that she came involuntarily. Groaning, she writhed over his lap as her clit pulsed, her empty pussy tightening in rhythmic contractions. Her mind reeled, having a hard time believing, even as it happened, that an orgasm from a spanking was possible.

When her cries of pleasure subsided into shaky, stuttering gasps, Ethan flipped her upright and cradled her in his lap. As he wrapped her up tight, he rocked her gently, while she tried in vain to contain her tears. From somewhere long hidden, they rose unbidden to the surface. She cried, not from pain, but from weeks, no months of repressed emotion.

“That’s it, baby. Let it out. I’m here for you—always.”

Loud racking sobs came next as she burrowed into his chest, letting go of all of the tension and stress she’d bottled up. She had no idea how long she carried on, weeping ceaselessly against him, but his shirt was soaked through to the skin by the time she regained some semblance of calm. She also became aware, that without her noticing, he had moved them to bed, where they now lay side by side. Lanie snuggled against him, her face buried in his neck, her head pillowed on his bicep as he stroked her hair gently.

“How did you know?” came her muffled question.

“I didn’t. It was an educated guess.”

“But weren’t you worried I’d get mad and storm out, or at the very least haul off and slug you?”

“That was a risk I was willing to take.” In an effortless motion, he rolled to his back, pulling her on top of him, aligning their bodies.

She propped her forearms on his broad chest and gazed down at the man she loved. Married for three years, they had dated for several before that and it seemed like they’d known each other forever. At forty-one, her handsome husband was older by six years, he was smart, confident and like her, also a lawyer. A renowned trial lawyer to be precise, but after years of private practice, he was now a professor at the prestigious Boston College Law School. He taught legal ethics—an oxymoron if she’d ever heard one—and upper level seminars on law and justice. He didn’t look like any professor, she’d ever had. Tall, well-built and sexy as hell, he was drooled over by many of his eager young law students. Over the years, a few of the more aggressive young women had propositioned him. He’d turned them down firmly, telling Lanie about every incident, because ever since they’d met, he’d had eyes only for her.

In the aftermath of a spanking and a torrent of tears, she stared into his intense gaze and wondered what he must think. Feeling unusually shy and more than a little embarrassed, she quickly looked away.

“Aw, baby, don’t go there. What happens between us in our bedroom, in our kitchen, garage or backyard for that matter is nothing to be self-conscious about.” He pulled her up his chest, his strong arms maneuvering her easily until their mouths were nearly touching. He kissed her gently. “I actually did some research and discussed my theory with a colleague.”

Her eyes flew wide and her head reared back so she could see his face. “You talked to someone at the college about spanking me? Ethan, I’ll die.”

“No, I spoke with one of the psychologists about your driving need for control. Well, not you specifically, but if he suspects, he is very discrete. He said Type A personalities such as yours need a physical outlet for their energy and suppressed emotions or they tend to explode. Sometime that explosion comes in the form of venting their pent up frustration on those unfortunate people around them, at work, on the street in a fit of road rage, or getting nasty with their family or spouse. If that doesn’t occur, it manifests most often in health problems: hypertension, heart attack, stroke to name a few. We talked about the more mainstream outlets, which you have tried unsuccessfully, and came upon one that you haven’t tried.”

Although still unnerved that someone he worked with would know intimate details about her, and their relationship, she was curious about this mysterious new method and blurted out, “What haven’t I tried?”

“Sex.” Her brows arched high in surprise before he continued. “Not merely missionary sex either. He said it needs to be fiery enough to get you so worked up that you scream, yell or cry with your release.”

“I’m all for that, but what just happened was really sex, sir.”

“True. I threw in the dominance and submission to get you to cry out your release another way. Quite effective wouldn’t you say? Although it seems we will have to work on following the rules. You came before I said you could.”

A grunted
Hmph
was her noncommittal response. What could she say? He’d made her do all those things—screaming, crying and begging—with a spanking. Her imagination immediately jumped at the possibilities of what he could do to her if he actually touched her more intimately, or, quite frankly, if he simply got around to taking off his clothes. His idea had merit. Okay, that was an understatement. It was intriguing to the point of titillation. She didn’t protest and lay quietly in his arms, eager to hear more.

His hands slid over her bottom and she tensed, expecting discomfort as he rubbed, but he was gentle. It felt so good to have his big hands on her, massaging away the negligible ache while evoking another more heated response a bit lower.

“Although he stopped short of making actual treatment recommendations for a patient, sight unseen, he did say he’s had success with this approach with others for the same underlying problem.”

“What problem is that exactly? Being a control freak?

“I don’t like that term; it’s over critical. I would say perfectionistic qualities and the need to overcome vulnerabilities through strict regulation of surrounding events.”

Spoken like the BC Law professor he was. Lanie barely contained a snort of laughter. “That’s what I said, Ethan. Control freak, I was just more succinct.”

“Lanie, mind the sass.”

“Sorry. So what specifically did this psychologist, who now knows you have a control fr—uh, rather, a perfectionist for a wife, recommend that I do?”

“Role-play.”

She stared at him a moment, then drawled, “O-kay… How exactly is that going to help?”

“I will dominate and you will submit, sexually that is. I’ll take control and you will practice letting go. In theory, once you learn that your world isn’t going to come crashing down around you if you don’t micromanage every aspect of your life, you will learn to trust, relinquish control, which includes delegating duties at work, and eventually relax.”

“In theory?”

“Yes, he warned it might take a considerable amount of practice, until we get it right. But I think we can do it together, if we put some extra effort into it, go the extra mile, and persevere.” The wolfish grin he gave her turned into a leer. When he waggled his eyebrows, however, she lost it and couldn’t help the giggle that escaped.

“Seriously, Lanie. I’d like to give this a try. By playing a character, you can take on a completely different persona. Like this evening, for instance, you took on the role of a naughty wife who was in need of a sound spanking. I took control, which gave you the freedom to surrender in a completely safe, non-threatening situation.”

“How is a spanking non-threatening? It hurt.”

“Babe, you loved it. You came harder than you have in months with only my hand on your ass and a little stimulation from my fingers in your—”

“Okay, okay… I get it,” she cut off his teasing. Her cheeks flushed, still concerned that she had enjoyed the spanking too much, and feeling a bit uncomfortable with that, she added with a frown, “I’m confused about all of it. I liked it. Does that make me a masochist or something?”

“No. You don’t necessarily need pain to get off. ‘Pain’ is pushing it in this case, by the way. That was a very mild spanking. You were barely pink and I suspect that if I turned up the lights and took a close look right now, any color you had has already faded.”

“Never mind that.”

His soft laugh was brief, and then he became serious. “You lock down your emotions tightly, Lanie. This was only the second time I’ve seen you cry since we’ve been married.”

“I hate weepy women.”

“So you’ve said, but it is another effective outlet for stress. How did you feel after the spanking when you let the tears come?”

“Relieved, I guess.”

“You guess? This isn’t a time for mincing words. Tell me about the emotions you felt. Or maybe I need to take you over my knee again to get to the bottom of this.”

“No! And that was an awful pun.”

He didn’t answer except to palm one ass cheek firmly in warning.

“Fine. I felt relief, but it was more than that… it was freeing. I don’t know how to explain… Intense is the right word, I suppose, and exhilarating. Embarrassing too, but that came after. It felt so good to let it out, that I actually feel much better.”

“As I’d hoped, except the embarrassing part. We need to work on that because there is no reason for you ever to feel ashamed about what we do. I love and cherish you—all of you. That means the good, the bad and even the ugly.”

Her hands flew to her face, wiping at her cheeks and below her eyes. “I bet I’m a real mess. I’m an ugly crier—my nose gets all runny and my eyes get red. That’s another reason I try very hard not to do it.” He pinched her behind lightly and she stopped. Ethan hated negative self-talk of any fashion. “Sorry.”

“So, in a nutshell, for you, a spanking is therapeutic. For whatever reason, you need permission to let go, or forgiveness for what you feel is a weakness, and the freedom to find your emotional release. That’s where I come in. By giving me control, you can absolve yourself of all responsibility, even if subconsciously. Whether in play or for real when you need it, I’ll take the blame, be your hero or the bad guy. Whatever you need and whenever you need it, I’m here for you baby, because I love you. Make sense?”

“No. I don’t want to blame you, and you shouldn’t have to carry the burden of all my crap.”

“Why should you care if it’s something that I want to do?”

“Because it’s not fair. You’re my husband, not my whipping boy.”

“Hmm, intriguing idea, but in this relationship I’ll be the one holding the whips.”

“What do you mean, like master and slave girl or something?”

“If you like,” he grinned. “I think you would look sexy in a harem outfit. I was also thinking about a scene between a teacher and his naughty student. That should come naturally. Or, the policeman who pulls over a sexy speeder, but instead of a ticket, he paddles her sassy butt over the hood of his cruiser.”

Handcuffs instantly came to mind and Ethan in uniform.
Damn
. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this, I see.”

“I’ve got a devious mind. I learned from years of working with the most devious element out there; criminals and college students.” He flashed a grin, which she readily returned, noting again how very handsome he was. “I’ll take the lead on the scenarios, but feel free to give me suggestions. So, are you willing to give it a try and see if it helps you relax?”

“I guess so.”

“That’s what I like. A very decisive answer,” he said with a sigh.

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder and then squealed as he squeezed her and rolled them as one, her back to the bed. Looking up at him, she searched his beloved features. His sable brown hair was overly long and in need of a cut, but mussed as it was from her fingers, it was very sexy. His distinctive brown eyes, the color of milk chocolate with subtle variations of tawny brown, were ringed by a dark outer edge and fringed with long curly lashes that any girl would kill for.

Dipping her gaze, she concentrated on his full lips. She knew how soft they felt against her own, so very kissable. They curved often into an easy smile and when he grinned broadly, he had the hint of a dimple in his right cheek. Forget handsome, her husband was freaking gorgeous.

As he gazed down at her, she felt bathed in his love—never had she doubted it. Despite his deep affection, she was still uncertain about how she felt about this new twist in their relationship. Hesitantly, she tried to put her thoughts into words, but she couldn’t and only came up with, “I don’t feel very decisive about any of this.”

“Don’t worry, that’s what I’m here for. It should be fun, for the most part. But I promise Lanie, that although this may seem like a game, it’s also very real. Sometimes these lessons may be hard for you to learn, but you’ll always have an out in case it gets too real or you’re afraid.”

“How hard?”

“Trust me, baby. I won’t give you more than you can take.”

“Okay, but I’m afraid your hand may get tired of spanking me. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I can be a real pain in the butt.”