11-30-2022
I lay back in his arms, my head cradled in the crease of his left shoulder, right where he positioned me. His face looms over me, inches from mine. I turn to stone, paralyzed by his dark gaze, and I do not question him. He wraps his strong arm around me, cupping my cheek in his hand and rubbing my soft jawline and bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. Soft words drip from his lips and into my ears, as he tells me that he is going to make me his girl. It is all that I want.
I feel the cool smoothness upon my right breast before I see it- the wooden spoon in his right hand. He is running the flat back of the marled spoon across the pale tender skin of my breast, watching it, as I watch him.
There is a shift in his face as he lightly taps the spoon on my delicate skin. One tap. Two taps. Then 3 taps together, quicker and controlled. My ear pressed to his ribs, I hear a low growl of approval roll through his body at the third tap.
I close my eyes and trust him, to only feel the smooth back of the spoon soothe again. His grip on my shoulder tightens, and there is a snap of pain as the spoon smacks on my already bruised breast. A sharp intake of breath, and I open my eyes.