Graduation and Gifts (Untouchable Book 8) by Heather Long (ebook reader play store .txt) 📗

“You take care of me by letting me take care of you,” he informed me. “And you were there for me, Angel. Never doubt how much that meant to me, knowing you were there to support me and not once did you get jealous or upset or even protest that you couldn’t play yet.”

A real smile pulled at my mouth, and what shadows lingered from that past summer vanished in the warmth burning in his eyes as he looked up at me. Fuck, when he knelt on the floor in front of me like that and gazed at me with those deep blue eyes, my whole world faded to just him.

All I felt was adored.

“I love you,” I whispered. Every single time I got to say it was a thrill. Even more, I loved how he would light up at the admission. How they all did in their own ways.

The slow massage of his fingers up and down my legs had me alternately relaxing and tensing as I wanted his fingers to stroke just a bit higher, but he always skated away from touching my ass or my pussy. I sucked my lower lip between my teeth as he edged higher. He knew what he was doing, and I could protest.

I could shift my leg and demand the contact.

Or I could be patient.

Let him give me the touches he wanted to. The awareness of his observation flooded through me, and I swore my thighs tightened as I rubbed them together. I expected the sting of the slap a split second before it landed.

“Feeling impatient, Angel?” he teased, but maybe we both needed this. The sadness was still there, but so was the elation. I’d let it discolor our evening, and he wanted to chase it all away. Or at least ease it until the roughness of those memories was gone.

“I need you,” I whispered. Not a lie. I did. More every single day.

“You have me,” he promised in a soft voice. “What else do you need?”

“Whatever you give me.”

He chuckled.

“Sir,” I said, tacking that on, and he laughed a little harder but there was real joy in his eyes.

“I love when you call me that.”

“I know,” I admitted. It gave me a thrill too.

“Bend over the bed, Angel,” Ian told me. “On your knees here…” He tossed a pillow down at the foot of the bed and then guided me to it. I knelt onto the pillow and then leaned over the bed until it was my ass that was up and my legs that were down. “Close your eyes.”

A part of me wondered why, but the rest of me relaxed into the feeling of the comforter. It smelled like the guys. Even freshly laundered, some elements of them clung to the material. The woodsy scent of the soap Jake and Coop preferred, along with the hints of the spicy aftershave Archie liked to use, but above all of that was the sweet scent of Ian. I loved the way he always made me think of sunshine…

A crack of his hand against my ass brought me right back to the present.

“No drifting, Angel,” he murmured as he rubbed the heat into that spot, and I melted a little more. Coop asked me about the spanking once, a faint glimmer of concern in his eyes. If anyone had asked me a year ago would I enjoy being spanked, I’d have probably laughed.

Still, there was a simple, almost elegant truth I found whenever Ian spanked me. Jake liked to slap my ass, and he got playful when he got rough. Those moments were always a thrill and made me clench harder. Yet when Ian spanked me, it was about being in the moment with him. The pain was so fleeting but also freeing, and it only left pleasure behind.

Another slap—this time to my other cheek—jolted me, and a laugh slipped out on a gasp.

“You’re dropping fast tonight,” he murmured against my ear. The whole weight of him stretched against me, thigh to thigh, his cock resting against my ass and his chest against my back. “You sure you’re up for this?”

Was I? “I think I enjoyed your lesson more than I realized,” I whispered. He rubbed his dick up and down along the seam of my ass as he nuzzled a kiss to my throat. When he turned my head, he stroked his hand through my hair. “I just want to lose myself in you.”

“Look at me,” he commanded, and I opened my eyes and met his gaze evenly. I never asked him what he looked for when he studied me, but he always seemed to weigh my reactions against something he found in my eyes. “We can just make love,” he murmured. “I can sink my dick in you right now and we can chase our pleasure until you’re sated.”

My nipples peaked at the thought, and no lie, I swore I grew even slicker at the suggestion. “Or?” I asked, licking my lips.

“Or I’ll finish what I was about to do, and then I’ll let you ride me until you come.”

I almost laughed. “You make that sound like a hard decision.”

“But you still have to choose, Angel.”

“I just want you, Sir Ian,” I told him simply, not once looking away from his steady gaze. “I trust you.” And I did.

No question.

No doubt.

His expression melted, and it damn near undid me. Sometimes, it was easy to forget they had their own insecurities and… The thought faded as he fisted my hair and helped me up until our mouths collided and my thoughts vanished in a singe of ash and burning desire. The twist to my body kept me pinned against the bed as he plundered my mouth, but he angled himself away.

The first slap sent a whimper through my throat, and then the next landed on the other cheek. He took his time, never quite finding a rhythm I could anticipate. Sometimes, the sting was sharp and pulled tears to