Chance of a Lifetime by Portia Da Costa Read Free Book Online Page B

awake even if Christian himself isn’t quite yet.
    But instead, I try something different. Lying down against him I press my bottom against his thighs, and then draw his sleeping hand against its rounded shape, hoping he’ll respond.
    Yours, I think as his fingers automatically curve and cup me. Yours until the end of time, to spank and play with at your leisure .
    “You do know what you’re asking for, doing that, don’t you?”
    His voice is sleepy, yet still full of masculine power. He squeezes my cheeks briskly, already waking and ready for his treat.
    “Um…yes, I think so.”
    “You know, there isn’t really time, my love.” There’s regret there, but it’s tempered with typical British stoicism. As if he’s bracing himself already for what he dreads. “Isn’t your taxi coming at eight? Shouldn’t you be packing?”
    I can’t speak. Now that I have to tell him about my decision, I’m scared. I know I’ve read him right, and I know he cares, but still…
    “I’m not going.”
    There’s a long silence. His hands are still upon me, but they’re quiescent.
    And then he laughs. And squeezes again.
    “You’re a very silly girl. You know that, don’t you?”
    “Yeah, I do know it…but it doesn’t change things.” I press myself back into his hold. “I’ve decided that I like rain, and I want to hang around here, stay on the team and see what this old heap looks like when the renovation is finished.”
    “Is that all?” I hear the smile in his voice as he rolls me onto my front, still palpating my bottom in a way that’s utterly sensual and full of delicate, delicious menace. “I do hate it when someone I care about keeps things from me.” He lifts his hand, and that’s more menacing than ever. “Now, tell me the whole truth…or I shall be forced to punish you.”
    “You might think I’m a bit forward.”
    “I’ll be the judge of that, Rose. Now tell me.”
    I hesitate again. Deliberately.
    He makes a soft tutting sound, and though I can’t see him, I imagine him shaking his head, and his gorgeous black hair rippling.
    A little tap lands on my right buttock. It’s light, barely a smack at all, but my sex ripples in luscious excitement. He barely has to touch me and I’m soaring toward pleasure already.
    Another tap lands and I swirl my hips, rubbing my mound against the mattress, trying to stimulate my clit.
    “Keep still. Don’t be naughty.”
    He’s fighting not to laugh, and his voice is so warm, so affectionate that I begin to melt in an entirely different way. My spirits sing as I work my crotch, happily defying him.
    He smacks again and again, a little harder, warming up my hind parts to match the glow in my sex and in my heart.
    “Tell me…tell me everything.” He smoothes his free hand down my back and my flank, the other still softly slapping at my bottom.
    It’s hard to answer now because I’m so turned on I can’t think straight to form words, and it’s also getting difficult to keep my hips still against the sheets.
    I grab at the pillows, clutching the linen of the pillowcase hard in an effort to concentrate.
    “I…I’ve decided that I’d quite like to find out what it’s like to be a marchioness!”
    There’s a pause, during which I hold my breath, then I feel a kiss settle on the small of my back like a butterfly.
    “Well, I can tell you what that will be like.” His breath is hot against my skin, wafting over my bottom, which is already even hotter. “You’ll never have any money. You’ll spend your life enslaved to a great monster of a house that’ll never ever stop needing attention.” He kisses me just one more time, and then straightens up again. “And you’ll probably get your bottom smacked at least once a day, if not considerably more often!”
    Spanks begin to rain down. Hard, loving, rhythmical and stirring. I surge against the mattress, my clit pulsating and my heart thudding and leaping with the purest love.
     
    A while later,