Strike Out: Mustangs Baseball #6 (21 page)

“No.” He hadn’t. She’d said those things out of anger and frustration.

“No, what?”

“No, sir.”

“For your lack of faith in me, I’m going to spank your bottom. Do you understand why I’m doing this?”

She nodded. Tears spilled from her eyes, creating a dark circle on her upholstery. The way he was gently caressing her backside while they talked only added to her remorse. How could he be so tender when she’d done her best to wound him? She sniffed back a sob. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I knew what I said was wrong. I spoke in anger.”

“I don’t want you ever to think you can’t speak your mind, but I won’t have you throwing verbal darts at me for things I haven’t done.”

“I won’t do it again. I promise.”

The first blow landed with a
whump
, startling a gasp from her lips. Before she recovered from the first hard smack, he spanked her several more times. Her clothing insulated her from the sting, but did nothing to lessen the impact. She grabbed for a throw pillow and dug her fingers into it to keep from reaching back to shield herself from what she knew was to come.

As he massaged and rubbed her through the layers of fabric covering her, she willed her body to relax. This was Royce. Every touch soft or stinging was given because she allowed it—craved it.

“Time to get down to business.” His roughly spoken words were all the warning she received before his fingers slid beneath her waistband, dragging her running shorts and panties over her bottom. He didn’t pull them all the way off, just took them far enough to expose her globes to his gaze.

Anticipation and blinding hot desire stole the breath from her lungs. Was her bottom already red? Imagining his gaze admiring his handiwork had her squirming in his lap, begging for more.

“Be still.” He clamped a hand on her left cheek and squeezed it hard enough to make her yelp. “If it gets too much for you, just say my name. I’ll stop.”

He placed a staying hand between her shoulder blades. Warmth radiated throughout her body, infusing her with a sense of safety. She felt a
swoosh
of cool air across her buttocks followed by the sharp bite of pain where his hand landed on her right cheek then again on her left. He peppered her backside with stinging slaps. She tried to count them in her head, but her usually agile mind couldn’t keep up. After a while, he stopped and rubbed the sore places he’d created.

“Those were for putting your hands on Tony this morning. I fucking hate seeing you touch another man, even if it is your job.”

His possessive jealousy brought a smile to her lips. She’d felt the same way about him when she saw him with the woman she now knew was his ex-wife. Her feelings at the time had cut deep, thinking if the tables were turned, he wouldn’t experience the same betrayal. Already sliding down the slippery slope of love with the man, she didn’t even try to save herself. She let go of the raveling rope end she’d been clinging to, and faster than a log in a water chute, she plummeted feetfirst into the murky waters of hopelessly in love.

Royce palmed her ass. Her soft skin was hot enough to melt chocolate where he’d spanked her. But he wasn’t through with her yet. She’d cut him to the core earlier with her remark about him not playing fair with his ex. Up until he’d spoken with Hannah the other night, he might have agreed with Tricia, but time, distance, and the woman’s not-so-subtle plea for him to take her back had given him a new perspective. Not only had he been fair, he’d been generous to a fault. He hadn’t told anyone, but part of the reason he hadn’t bought furniture for his house was because he needed to accumulate some expendable cash. The amount he’d settled on Hannah had depleted his savings, leaving him enough to put a down payment on the house, but not enough to furnish it.

His financial situation was much better now. He’d even paid off the mortgage he’d initially taken out to purchase his home, putting off the furniture buying even longer. Maybe not the best move, but one he’d needed to take for himself. His shelf life as a professional athlete was short. Investing in real estate made more sense than investing in chairs and tables. And, he’d had no one to furnish the place for.

He massaged Tricia’s sweet bottom and marveled at the way she’d changed his life. From the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d known deep inside she wasn’t going to be a casual acquaintance. He’d wanted her then, and he wanted her now. He would want her until the day he died, and then some, if the gods were kind to him.

His deep rose and scarlet handprints on her ass screamed, “Mine!” Possessing her had become an ache in his chest, and marking her as his, a need he no longer tried to deny. She was his. Always would be, and he planned on reminding her on a daily basis. But, for now, he needed her to understand how much her words had stung. Without warning, he brought his hand down on the rounded flesh of her right cheek. The slap sounded like the crack of a whip in the quiet room.

Tricia jerked and cried out. He spanked her just as hard on the other side. “This is fair, sweetheart.” He continued to rein terror on her ass while she wiggled, jerked, and cursed him between sobs. He knew how she felt. He’d experienced the same level of pain when she’d made her accusation. The only difference was, she would carry the visible evidence of the pain, at least for a time, while his scars were all on the inside.

He half expected her to scream his name to get him to stop, but when the motion of his hand carried her scent up to his nostrils, he realized she’d gone beyond punishment. She was turned on by his spanking her, just as she had been the first time. And Lord knew he’d been hard for her since she opened the door wearing running shorts and a tank top.

Staying his hand in midair, he inhaled deeply. She’d thrown him a curve ball, making him need her like a crazy drunk needed another drink. He didn’t know if he should swing or let the moment pass. He wanted a relationship with her, but they hadn’t talked about anything more than him taking her over his knee. If he swung, slid her off his lap, and mounted her, would she call him out on a strike? Or would she run the bases with him?

The color on her ass was like a beacon, calling him. He’d punished her for lashing out at him in anger and made his point in regard to whom she belonged. The evidence was there in the shades of red painting her skin.
Mine
.

Covering her left cheek with his palm, he savored the lush curves on display. His cock ached to slip into her cleft, to stroke and tease the doors of her desire. He took his time, caressing her flesh, growing more desperate with every sigh, every moan, every twitch of her hips as he massaged the hurt away. He was damn lucky she’d let him touch her at all. He wasn’t about to push his luck by taking more than she offered.

“Call me a pervert, but seeing my handprints on your ass turns me on like nothing else ever has.”

A throw pillow she’d dragged beneath her chest muffled her response, but it sounded something like,
oh God,
to him. He wasn’t sure if the exclamation was a good thing or a bad one.

He took a chance and slid his middle finger into the crease of her buttocks. She went completely still as he skimmed over the tight rosette, relaxing when he delved lower. His finger slid easily across her pussy, aided by her natural juices. He played with her folds then dipped inside her up to his first knuckle.

“Christ, Tricia. You’re so hot and wet. I can’t do this anymore. Seeing my handprints on your ass, feeling your body primed for fucking…. It’s more than I can stand.” He withdrew from her in one quick move, bringing more of her scent to his nose. He knew better than to lick her essence from his fingers. In the state he was in, tasting her would strain his control, possibly past its limits. Frantic, he looked for something to wipe his hand on. Spying a tissue box on the end table, he reached over Tricia’s head. Before he could snag one, her slim fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Don’t.” Hanging onto his arm, she wiggled off his lap to a kneeling position between his knees. She took his hand in both of hers, spread his fingers wide, and slowly, beginning with his thumb, took each one into her mouth.

When she got to his middle finger, he forgot how to breathe. Unable, or maybe just unwilling to stop her, he watched as she swept her tongue from base to tip—up one side then another before she sucked the digit into her mouth.

“Holy fuck!” He yanked his hand back before her ministrations sent him over the edge. He’d never come in his pants—not even when he was a randy teenager and the sight of a pair of tits had been reason enough to explode. He’d always prided himself on having more control. But Tricia had him riding the thin edge of restraint and loving every minute of it. “I need you. Now.”

A saucy grin spread across her face. The little minx. She knew exactly what she was doing to him. He smiled back at her. “Don’t think you’re going to get away with teasing me, sweetheart. You’ll pay for your actions later.” He stretched one leg out, connected with the coffee table and shoved it back a foot. “Turn around. Brace yourself on the table.”

While she situated herself, Royce stood, unfastening his pants. He pushed them down then worked one leg completely free. Good enough. Going down on one knee behind her, he gripped her hips. “Fuck.” He stared at her reddened bottom and her pink pussy trapped between her legs held together by her shorts still wrapped tight around her thighs. A hidden treasure. If he didn’t seize control of himself, he would fuck her to oblivion and back.
Breathe, fucker, breathe.

He filled his lungs, belatedly realizing his mistake. Her scent went straight to his bloodstream like an alcohol drip. His head swam as blood rushed to his dick. Grabbing his throbbing appendage to stop himself from impaling her like a crazed animal, he stopped cold when his hand met with flesh.

“Shit. Fuck. Goddamnit!” He fumbled with his pants, found his wallet, and retrieved his emergency condom.

“What is it?”

“Hang on, sweetheart.”
If this isn’t a three-alarm emergency, I don’t know what is.
He’d come within a second of fucking her bareback. God, he wanted to feel her, skin to skin, but until they talked about it, he wasn’t taking any chances.

His mind flashed back to the family he’d seen in the stands the day Jason gave him the sage advice to get laid. He wanted that. The kids. The day at the ballpark. Only, he wanted to show his kids the game from field level. Wanted them to see how much their old man loved the game, and them.

As he positioned his cock at the wet opening of her pussy, another image flashed across his consciousness. Tricia—round with his child. The fantasy was gone as fast as it came, but he knew he would move heaven and earth to make it a reality. Holding her hips firm in his grasp, he drove his cock deep. Blind with pleasure, he paused to catch his breath and savor the feel of her tight, wet channel surrounding him. Her warmed bottom was a soft cradle for his hips.

“Okay, sweetheart?”

“God, Royce. Move. Please.”

The pleading tone in her voice mirrored his own need. “This is going to be quick.” He pulled out so only the head of his cock was inside her. “We’ll do it slow, later.”

“Just do it. Please.”

Knowing she was onboard with the urgency of their situation released the grip he had on his control. He slammed into her, burying his cock balls deep, rocking her so hard the coffee table slid out from under her. She was on all fours, just the way he wanted her. When he pulled back, she pushed her hips toward him, begging him to fill her again. It was an invitation he couldn’t refuse.

The rhythm he set was fast paced, but she stayed with him, rocking her ass to take more of him. Nothing short of a nuclear explosion would have stopped him from taking her, claiming her as his. His balls were drawn up so tight he wasn’t sure he’d ever see them again, but he was determined to make this one good for her, too. He couldn’t promise her a drawn out affair, but he could try to take her along with him when he came.

Reaching between them, he located his cock sliding slick and wet in and out of her pussy. From there, it was easy to find her pubic bone and apply pressure. From the sounds coming from her throat, he was pretty certain he had found the spot he’d been searching for. He matched the pressure from his fingers with his cock, shoving deep inside her. It only took a few thrusts before her body tensed.

“Royce!”

Her pussy contracted around him, the hot, wet flood of her orgasm enveloping him.

“God, sweetheart. You feel so fuckin’ good.” Powering into her, he sought his own release. When it came, the pleasure bordered on pain.

Gripping her around the waist, he sat back on his heels, bringing her with him so she sat on his thighs. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and pressed his temple to her cheek. They rode out the aftershocks locked together.

He didn’t want to let go of her, but his legs started to cramp. How catchers squatted for as long as they did, he had no idea. “I’ve got to stand up,” he said, easing the tight grip he had on Tricia’s waist. Her sigh said everything he was thinking. “I know. I don’t want to move either, but if I don’t, I won’t be able to tomorrow and I have to pitch.”

She crawled off him only to roll to her back on the floor, arms outstretched, her eyes closed. His mouth watered at the sight. Her tank top was hitched up around her waist, leaving her bare down to where her shorts hugged the top of her thighs. Her disheveled appearance and the glow of satisfaction on her face depicted a woman who’d been well and truly fucked. He committed the image to memory, knowing he would remember this moment for the rest of his life.