Page 41 of Haden

“You were supposed to stay in bed while I was gone, naughty girl. I’m going to spank you. You’re going to cry, and then you’ll feel better. You need the release anyway.”

My stomach does a flip. It’s hard to tell if the weird feeling is a precursor to my period or a reaction to Haden’s dominance. Probably both.

When I bend over, he grabs my hips and pulls me back. “You’re too close. I want your hands and forehead on the mattress, your breasts hanging free, and your feet planted wider.”

A violent shudder wracks my body as I get into his required position. Anticipation has me panting. The first time he spanked me, I liked it. This time, I’m not going to be as shocked. I’m ready. I crave the burn he’s going to inflict on me and the fact that I really do need to cry.

With one hand on the small of my back, Haden uses the other to spank my left cheek.

My breath hitches, and I rise onto my tiptoes at the painful reminder. Fuck, that hurt. At the same time, stress leaks out of me. It’s the strangest sensation.

He does it again on the right side. And then harder. Back and forth.

I find myself sinking into the mattress, absorbing every slap as they vibrate in the small space. There’s an odd sound that joins the swats. It’s coming from me. I’m moaning or perhaps purring as he continues spanking me like a naughty schoolgirl.

I think I like it. This reaction is unexpected, but fuck me.

When the tears start falling, I don’t try to stop them. I sob loudly, gasping for air as snot runs from my nose.

Haden stops spanking me, lifts me into his arms, sits on the edge of the bed, and cradles me. He strokes my messy hair and whispers words I can’t hear. Sweet words of comfort. He snags the shirt he took off me and brings it to my face to wipe away the tears and snot.

When I’m finally spent, he kisses my forehead. “Feel better, jitterbug?”

“Yes, Sir,” I murmur.

“Such a good girl. Let’s go up to your room so we can shower, yeah?”

I nod against him, snuggling into his chest. I don’t care that he’s sweaty. We’re going to shower in a few minutes anyway. Besides, I like the smell of him post-workout. Manly. Musky. Salty. Like his come.

When I’m finally willing to move, I sit up taller and take a deep breath. Maybe I should be embarrassed for crying in front of him, but I’m not. He expected it. Made it happen. He did it to help me relax, and it worked.

Haden stands me on my feet, makes sure I’m steady, and then grabs a sweatshirt to pull over my head. “That will keep you fully covered when we sneak up the back stairs,” he teases.

I groan. I hate that people will see us coming into the house from his RV after obviously spending the night together. It doesn’t matter that they all know, including Gretchen and Isabel. I’m still mortified. This isn’t something I’ve ever done before. I don’t sneak around with men.

Haden gathers my clothes from last night and a pile of clean ones for himself, tucks them all in a backpack, and opens the door. “Ready?”

No. But we’re doing this.

Chapter 15

Haden

* * *

There are no words for how I’m feeling. I knew I liked this woman. I’ve had my eye on her for four years. I never considered acting on it, but more importantly, I never once thought she would be my type.

Emilia’s beyond my wildest dreams. I’m still pushing her as if I need to prove something. To her or to myself? I’m not sure. Maybe both. It’s not necessary. She’s submissive. End of story. She enjoys my brand of domination. She takes it better than any woman I’ve ever met or heard of. There’s zero chance she’s going to suddenly decide she can’t submit to me.

I don’t need to be quite so insistent. It’s like I’m obsessed with the idea of controlling every fucking aspect of her life. And she makes it worse every time she reacts so deeply to my demands.

I didn’t really expect her to so easily let me watch her pee or help with her period, but I insisted, and she didn’t balk. Not much. It’s not that I don’t want those things. I do. I want a wife who doesn’t keep secrets. I want to know when my wife is cramping so I can get her some medicine or a hot water bottle. I want to know how heavy her flow is so I can be sure she’s healthy and not anemic.

When she’s pregnant, I’m going to monitor her every hour of every day. Making sure she’s eating well and drinking enough. Getting the correct vitamins into her. Take her to every doctor’s appointment.

And fucking photographing her every damn day.

Where did that plan come from? Again, I have no idea. It’s not something I’ve done with any of my previous girlfriends or obsessed over. Suddenly, I need pictures of my woman. I want to capture her expressions as she fully enters my world.