Chapter Five

The house was beautiful, and as he brought her into it, Ava had to wonder if he had kept it exactly as it had been when they were together. It was a big ranch house, with an open kitchen, dining, living room area when you first entered it from the garage, and a den that had obviously been an addition. It had been built behind the garage, using a connecting hallway.

It was a big, square room with a large stone fireplace, beautiful built in mahogany bookcases, and a big, comfortable looking sectional in the middle, with a TV at one end and a pool table behind it, along with a wet bar tucked into one corner.

But the thing that Ava noticed the most about it was that there were no pictures on the walls—not here, and not in the other part of the house she'd seen. It was immaculately clean, almost sterile, but the many brads and nails that still stuck out of the walls—obviously relieved of their purpose—told a very unhappy tale.

He had obviously scrubbed it clean of what had to be agonizing reminders of what had been.

"Please make yourself at home," he said, voice still gruff with emotion. "Can I get you anything?"

"Diet Coke, if you have it. Water, if not."

"Ice?"

She heard it tinkling into one glass from where he stood behind the bar. "Yes, please." Then two. Ava was still wandering around the room, wondering what it must've looked like when a happy family lived there, when Kurt handed her a drink and sat down on a corner of the couch with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry to lay all of this at your feet. It's hardly second date material." His smile was wan, but hers was gentle and forgiving.

"That's okay. I didn't mean to act like I was afraid in the parking lot, and I'm sorry for making you feel bad."

His eyes pinned hers. "But you weren't acting."

Ava swallowed hard, toying with her drink. "No, I wasn't. And neither are you. You're grieving, and that's okay. I've lost loved ones, too."

"Of course, you have." His tone was warm and comforting. "Much more recently, too, and just as suddenly."

Her eyes filled with tears, and in an unusual move for her, she didn't bother to try to suppress them. They rolled freely down her cheeks and for once in her life, and unlike every other time she'd ever cried, she didn't care whether anybody noticed or not. "Yes, and not to try to compare grief, and despite the fact that Teara was like a sister to me, I can't imagine what you went through, losing Maureen and Hannah."

Kurt sat forward, leaning his forearms on his thighs, and putting his head in his hands. "They were both still alive when I got there—barely. The rescue guys let me get into the car with them, and I held both of their hands. Hannah went first. She wasn't conscious, and I don't know if she even knew I was there, but I told her that I loved her."

"Of course, she did," Ava murmured, moving a bit closer to him, drawn by a desperate need to comfort him through all of that pain. "A little girl always knows when her daddy's there."

"Maureen was conscious for a few seconds, and I told her that I loved her and that she was free to go." His voice broke at that, but he continued. "That I'd find her when I could."

Ava was no longer crying for her own loss in the least, and she kept inching towards him until she was right next to him. She hesitated only an instant, small hand above his broad back. But then she touched him, rubbing his back slowly, then moving even closer to put her arms around him. Well, as far around him as she could, anyway.

Kurt couldn't believe that he was falling apart in front of her like this. It just wasn't something he did—that he'd ever done, even right after it had happened. He always kept his grief to himself, to the late, dark, lonely hours where it belonged, and from the first few days after the funeral, he had plunged himself into his work instead, using it as a solace. The more he worked, the less time he had to think, and the less time he had to spend in this big, empty house full of happy, ruthlessly ruined memories.

Even scrupulously removing almost all traces of his wife from the house—stacking even her plates and dishes, pictures, and tchotchkes in the attic, where he wouldn't have to look at them—didn't help him in the least. He'd left one picture and one picture only in the main part of the house. It was one of the two of them cuddled up on the beach, looking achingly happy, both of them laughing and smiling as they looked out at him.

It was the reason why he rarely went into his home office anymore. He just… couldn't.

His only comfort was work, but even then, he couldn't do the job to its fullest extent. Usually, he dealt with adults, and he could handle that. But whenever he was confronted by a situation that involved dealing with a child or baby, he just couldn't do it.

Luckily, his supervisor was very understanding, as were the other detectives around him, and they all took those cases so that he wouldn't have to.

But as a lieutenant that day, when she had appeared, he knew he couldn't just let her keep wondering about her friend until Zapata got around to finally calling her back. He'd thanked Sheila profusely for giving him a heads up about the baby, though. If he'd stumbled into the waiting room without knowing, he didn't know what he would have done.

Yes, he did. He would have sucked it up and done what he had to do, and then he would have gone home and done what he did that night anyway—drink more than he should in hopes of forgetting the unbearable, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the raw attraction he felt towards Ava.

And yet here she was, at his side, offering comfort, even though he thought she was still half afraid of him from whatever got to her in the parking lot of the restaurant. Thinking about her situation—what awful thing must've happened to her—gave his mind a respite from its tendency, which, granted, had lessened considerably over the years, to wallow in his own misery.

The small woman who was now pressing herself against his side and trying to hold him tightly to her had lived through her own awful experience, somewhere in her past. As a cop, he thought he probably had a good idea what that might have been, and he hated every single possibility his agile mind conjured up.

On top of that, her best friend had just died. He thought she was probably still grieving about both things, whether she knew it or not, and he really hated the idea that she was having to deal with any of it—especially the consequences of whatever man had treated her so badly.

Kurt put his arm over hers, where it was clinging to his chest, and patted her elbow.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

For a long time, neither of them said anything more than that, in a companionable silence. Then Kurt felt the need to stretch out, and he very slowly and undemandingly took Ava with him, situating them with him lying against the arm of the couch, and the both of them with their legs stretched out in front of them, and her lying a bit gingerly back against him.

But that was it. He kept his arms and hands to himself as much as he could in that position.

He cleared his throat. "So, I've shared my worst day with you, and you're still here. Care to reciprocate?"

Kurt felt her stiffen and wished he'd just kept his fat mouth shut.

He lowered his voice when he followed that with, "But please don't feel any pressure about that at all. You tell me in your own time, Ava."

She nodded. "I-I'm sorry. I don't think I can," Ava confessed as she fiddled nervously with her fingers, surprised to find herself here, with him, in this position. Ava could tell that he was aroused, but she didn't really let that register or she might well jump up off him like a scalded cat. Her feelings about him were very confused at the moment—she wanted to comfort him, and she wanted comfort for herself, too.

And for some unknown reason, despite the fact that she hadn't quite gotten to the point where she could share her deepest, darkest secret with him, she still felt safer with him than she ever had with any other man she'd dated. She didn't chalk that up to him being a cop at all; there were certainly dirty cops. But everything she'd heard about him, everything he'd confessed to her—very deeply personal and intimate and gut-wrenching things—was well on the way to convincing her that he was the real deal.

The holy grail, the unicorn, the answer to prayers she hadn't even known she'd made—a genuinely nice man who had gone through an unbelievable tragedy, and had managed to come out the other side still relatively intact. Broken—and who wasn't—but still basically more functional that a lot of men who hadn't been through anywhere near as much as he had.

And she genuinely liked him. Whatever it was that attracted one person to another, he had in spades for her, so she did something on impulse that she very much hoped she wouldn't regret later.

Ava turned so that she was more on her side than lying atop him, her eyes finding his for a split second, before they slipped away, but at the same time, she relaxed completely against him, as if she just didn't have the strength to keep herself tense a moment longer.

Then she managed to surprise the hell out of a man who made his living by trying not to be surprised by anything but being prepared for anything.

"Kurt, would you consider kissing me?"

She said it so tentatively that he had to smile, as if she truly thought he was going to turn her down.

There were parts of his brain that definitely wanted him to; there was no doubt about that. And a big percentage of him wanted him to remain isolated and lonely and hurting. He knew that kissing her—and what it might well lead to—wasn't going to magically fix all of that, but it sure would be nice just to lay down the burden of all the grief and the guilt for a while and truly enjoy himself for the first time in recent memory.

In answer, a crooked finger brought her chin up, and he looked directly into her eyes as he placed his lips very gently, very undemandingly against hers, watching her lids flutter down to close as she opened her mouth beneath his.

That was all it took for him to begin to kiss her more passionately, but he didn't allow himself to lose his head. He didn't want to frighten her. So, his arms looped around her very slowly and gently, at first, giving her time to either reject that advance entirely, or become accustomed to his embrace. His patience paid off when she moaned softly as his arms tightened around her, just as carefully, bringing her inexorably closer to him.

***

Dear God, he was going so slowly, he was going to kill her with anticipation, Ava thought, but, at the same time, she appreciated the fact that he was wasn't being grabby or trying to rush her. Kurt was still being relatively chaste with her; their only other point of contact was the hand he'd placed at the small of her back, which she could feel was both lightly holding her in place and gently making her arch herself into him more.

And that combination, along with the subtly dominant way he was kissing her, set her entire body on fire, to the point that she was trying to kiss him back and pant furiously at the same time.

He leaned a little away from her, which was exactly what she didn't want. "Are you okay? Am I going too fast for you?"

As a desire the likes of which she didn't think she'd ever experienced raged through her, Ava nevertheless bit her lip demurely when responding. "I-I'm fine. And, no. It's… I… " She couldn't get any further coherency out of her brain.

Kurt was still paused, looking down at her with genuine concern on his face. "Are you scared?"

Every bit of her skin blushed as she shook her head. "No," she breathed. "Not… not at all."

His smile was almost prideful at hearing her say that. "Good. I believe there's good scared and bad scared, and I never want you to feel bad scared around me."

Good scared? Ava wasn't quite sure what he meant, but then he was kissing her again and she couldn't care in the least beyond the fact that she wanted him to keep doing that.

Her hands had been idle, lying on his shoulders while they kissed, but then she moved them up to bury her fingers in his hair, getting an incredible reward when he actually shuddered and moaned right into her mouth at that.

His own hands grew a little bolder as they strayed down the enticing line of her back, stopping just before the swell of her bottom, until she leaned back and gave him a coquettish look. "Tease!" she accused softly.

Kurt didn't need any more invitation than that. His big hands moved down the rest of the way, to cover what he coveted, still moving carefully and with an intense concentration on her responses as he first cupped her well rounded ass and then squeezed that ample flesh.

Her dramatically caught breath sizzled through him, and he could feel himself trying to come to full mast behind his zipper. But the jeans he was wearing weren't conducive to erections in the least. As he left one hand covering most of her backside, he brought the other up to cup a different kind of cheek as his teeth nibbled at her lips. "You like my hands on your bottom?" came his gravelly question, while he was play biting the silky line of her jaw.

"Oh, God, yes!" she breathed.

"Good, because I love your ass, and I'm not going to stop myself from touching it anymore."

Panting even harder than before, Ava whispered, "Please don't."

With that, he suddenly rose to stand next to the couch and extended his hand towards her. "If you don't mind, I'd rather do this in a more comfortable spot."

Ava sat up and considered that hand for a moment as her desires ran wild within her, breasts swelling in time with each short breath, panties already wringing wet, and her hands itching to touch him. Despite the fact that she wanted him like no other man in her memory, she couldn't quite convince herself to throw caution to the wind and put her hand in his.

As she sat there, biting her lower lip in much the same way he had been just a minute or two ago, Kurt bent down and tucked her hand into his, using the same tone that he'd seen work with her before—quiet and calm, but somewhat commanding at the same time. "Come with me, Ava. You're safe, I promise."

He was a little worried that she might resist his move entirely, at which point he would have known that, for her, this was not the right time. It would have been damned close to agonizing, but he would never, ever have forced her.

Unless she'd told him that was what she was into. But they were much too new for that, and he would have bet that she was much too traumatized by whatever had happened with someone else to enjoy being treated like that.

And that horse's ass was the last thing Kurt wanted to remind her of. Instead, he was going to do his level best to blow him entirely out of her mind—or as close to it is as possible—and replace those bad memories with some really good ones, he hoped.

His bedroom was all the way down a long hallway, at the other end of the house, and he kept her hand in his, the entire way, letting her trail behind him but not allowing her to lose contact with him. For some reason, Kurt felt that was very important, especially now that they were going to be intimate, which was something he had definitely not been expecting, and he didn't think she had, either.

So, not knowing all that much about her, except that she'd had a bad experience, he felt that touch and communication were of the utmost importance. He was big on both of those things anyway—at least he always had been—but he thought that, in particular consideration of her situation, it would be important to emphasize both of those things even more.

It was a very large and open room, with a huge king-sized bed. At his size, he probably didn't get much choice as to what kind of bed to get. A king would be the only one that would fit him.

Kurt let her go but watched her closely the entire time as he began to strip off his clothes. She was doing the same, although at a much slower, more tentative pace. He thought about leaving his briefs in place but decided against it. He wanted to be naked with her, and he wanted her to be naked with him.

"Need some help?" he asked, smiling gently as he walked over to her.

Suddenly, Ava felt much smaller with him standing there, naked, in front of her. She hadn't even looked down to see what kind of equipment he was sporting but kept her eyes at chest level only.

Again, he tipped her chin up and kissed her slowly. "I'm going to undress you, Ava. It'll be like unwrapping a particularly beautiful present."

He loved seeing that, when she blushed, she colored in lots of different places.

She'd worn a button up shirt, which he proceeded to unbutton—the knuckles of his big hands brushing occasionally against nipples that were already standing at attention—then relieved her of entirely, so that she was standing there in a very pretty black lace bra. "Beautiful packaging for a beautiful present," he murmured, drawing a finger over each breast, just above where the cups ended before he stood behind her and buried his face in her hair, drawing a very deep breath as his fingers nimbly worked first the hook of the bra and then the button and zipper of her skirt, all of which then fell to the floor.

"You smell amazing," Kurt complimented as he retrieved her clothes and lay them on the occasional chair that was nestled in one corner of the room.

"Th-thank you."

He heard the hesitation in her voice and wanted to erase it forever, but he knew he couldn't magically wipe it away. It would take time for her to learn, to really know, on that deep down, cellular level, that she could trust him with the most fragile parts of her, physical and otherwise.

She was looking down again when he returned to her, so he tilted her face up again for a deep, lingering kiss. "You're safe, Ava. I won't do anything you don't want me to."

She nodded, but reluctantly, as if she didn't quite believe him.

"Say it for me," he whispered, his intent gaze searching her face.

That got her eyes to find his. "Say what?"

"Say you're safe with me."

She demurred in embarrassment. "Noooooo. That'll sound stupid."

"No, it won't. If you say it yourself, you'll get closer to believing it."

She was smiling but not obeying him.

"Ava."

That gorgeous head lifted, but she only looked at him for a second before putting it back down again.

"I meant what I said, little one."

Her head shot up this time on a loud gasp, and his brows drew together.

"Something good? Or something bad?" he asked.

Her pupils were dilated, and she was breathing quickly again. "S-something good."

"I'm glad. I like to use endearments."

He smiled, if a little tightly, taking a step closer to her and laying his hands on her bottom cheeks again, using that hold to pull her against him. "How do you feel about spanking, Ava? Are you into that?"

She literally began to tremble and jerked once, hard, within his arms. "Good or bad?" he asked again patiently.

"I-I don't know," she answered, not quite honestly.

"Something you'd be interested in exploring, or would it stir up bad memories?"

Her eyes flitted to his for only a second. "Uhh… umm…"

He'd moved behind her, fingers tugging her nylons down, peeling them off her feet and adding them to the growing pile before returning to her and looking carefully at her face.

"Something you find intriguing, if done by someone who knows how to do it and will respect your limits, but something you haven't tried before, or something you actively dislike or are afraid of?"

He could tell from all of the signs she was giving him that it was very likely the former, but he wondered if she would admit it to him.

"Something… intriguing," she finally answered, so softly he almost didn't hear it.

"Very good. What would you like as a safe word?"

She looked a little alarmed. "I'm going to need a safe word?"

He grinned. "Not if I do things the way I'm supposed to. But it's something that should always be established between two people who are going to explore things like spanking."

"Banana."

"Banana. Great choice. We'll take it slowly, though, and you must tell me if that's too fast for you. This is all about you, Ava."

And when he brought her eyes to his again, he put a bit more firmness into his tone this time, carefully making sure, though, that there was absolutely no trace of anger in it at all—just an open acknowledgement that he expected her to obey him. "Then I think there's something that I've asked you to say to me, isn't there?"

Ava shivered, but not in a bad way at all. The man standing in front of her was very, very dangerous. Not in the same way that Jeff had been at all, but because, so far, his desires aligned so perfectly with hers.

Although she did feel stupid doing it, she drew a breath and mumbled, looking down again, "I'm safe with you."

He chuckled at that, keeping his voice pleasant but allowing just the slightest measure of chiding to come through in it. "Now try it again as if you mean it, angel, while you're looking at me, and you might just avoid a spanking."

Kurt swatted her behind once, not very hard at all, but just enough to give her a little push towards obeying him.

Damn, she was incredibly sexy as he watched her struggle with her own will against his. She didn't seem to be afraid in the least—which was something he was trying to be acutely attuned to—but instead, she seemed to be at that just right level of embarrassment at having him tell her what to do and threaten to spank her if she didn't.

She was going to kill him with this every time he had her, and he was going to love every minute of it.

He remained where he was, not pushing or threatening or even encouraging, until she submitted to him, and it was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen, especially knowing that she had been afraid of him earlier this evening.

He heard her take a deep breath, and she raised her head until blue eyes met dark ones. And when she spoke this time, it was in a breathier version of her real voice. "I'm safe with you."

Kurt smiled. "Very good. Say it again for me," he coaxed, coming around behind her to get down on one knee, arm draped over his other thigh as he used his free hand to very slowly divest her of her panties, which were tiny and extremely enticing in that they matched the laciness of her bra, but he wanted to see all of her.

"I'm safe with you," she said, her voice still small and somewhat hesitant.

"Again," he prompted.

When they were around her ankles, he took them from her, so that when he stood near her again, she was as naked as he was, and just that much shorter, too.

And she was more than worth the wait.

As he took her into his arms, Kurt heard her say, "I'm safe with you." And he could almost believe that she meant it, except for her sharply indrawn breath and the way she stiffened just slightly, when their bodies came together for the first time.

She was shivering, and he became immediately solicitous of her. "Are you cold, honey? Want me to turn up the heat?"

"N-no, thank you. It's… it's just nerves. I'm never comfortable the first time I sleep with someone, and I just feel all jittery."

Kurt deliberately made his voice sound hypnotic. "Take a deep, slow breath in, and let it out the same way, and try to remember that nothing's going to happen here that you don't want. This is all about making you feel good, which is what makes me feel good."

She could feel how concerned he was about her and could hear—although not quite heed—the tone that was actively encouraging her to relax. Ava felt as if she was spinning out a bit, until Kurt picked her up, physically lifting her off her feet, and kissed her.

It was the kiss that did it—that centered her and gave her something else to concentrate on.

But then, when he got them to the bed, he climbed onto it and laid her across his lap.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Ava tried to twist away, but he very carefully wouldn't let her.

"I'm going to spank you."

He'd never had a woman react the way she did to that pronouncement by him. She became stiff as a board, and nothing he tried relaxed her, so he brought his hand down on that gorgeous ass—experimentally and not very hard.

And that was all it took. She collapsed down over him, as if he'd spanked all of the air out of her.

"You're okay?" he asked, hand already in the air to administer another swat, but he paused, wanting to check in with her first.

She didn't really want to tell him the truth but did anyway. "Yes, I think so." Ava sounded much more tentative than he wanted her to, so he would keep this spanking very light indeed.

"And what should you be saying to yourself, do you think, Ava?" he asked firmly, giving her a more playful smack.

She was still trying to get her breath back from realizing that she was being spanked, to say nothing of how amazing it felt! "Uh, that I'm safe with you, and that nothing's going to happen that I don't want."

"Smart girl. Very smart girl. It's almost too bad that I have to punish you like this," he breathed softly as he rubbed her bottom. Normally, he wouldn't do that—at all, or at least not that early in a punishment—but she was a special case, a very special case.

Kurt didn't think she had any idea that the spanking he was giving her wasn't really even a baby spanking. He didn't think he'd ever gone quite this easy on a woman in his entire spanking career, which had had its high points—with his wife, who was just as into it as he was—and its low spots, when he'd thought he'd never find anyone who shared his love of it. But if his hunch was right, that her trauma had something to do with being physically hurt by a man, he didn't want her to ever draw any comparisons to him.

In the end, he probably only gave her about fifteen very light whacks with the flat of his hand. And she had reacted so wonderfully to each and every one of them, gasping and kicking and whimpering as he easily kept her in place for more. Even so, her otherwise pale bottom was just beginning to take on the slightest of pink glows when he stopped and rubbed it again.

If that was how she acted during a spanking like this, Kurt didn't think he'd survive a real one!

"Now's the time that I get to find out if all of your histrionics are just that," he pronounced firmly.

"What are histrionics?"

"Over-dramatizing things. Like all of your reactions to what I bet is your first spanking?" Kurt ventured.

"Yes, but no! I wasn't being his-tri-onic," she pronounced the unfamiliar word very carefully, and he had to warn himself not to laugh.

"You absolutely were, but you won't understand that until you face a real one." As he spoke, he was rearranging her a little, still keeping her on his lap but moving her knees apart—far apart, which had her squirming and caused her to receive another five spanks. "Stay still, Ava."

He thought that her very genuine sounding, if quiet, "Yes, Sir" was the icing on the cake, but he revised his opinion as soon as his eagerly exploring fingers found much better—and much more icing—of her own.

"Ava, you're dripping!" he exclaimed in a disbelieving tone, even though he was wearing the evidence of it.

She didn't think she could possibly get more embarrassed. "I can't help it, Sir!" she whimpered, trying to close her legs.

"No, keep them open. Wide open."

The more he talked to her like that, in that terribly arousing, slightly stern way, the more juices she produced, easily coating an already very slick hand that he moved down a bit further.

She was going to do him in just by the sounds she was making as he explored her further, his wide hand forcing her lips to open around him as she squeaked and squealed and sighed. When his big fingers brushed over her clit, she convulsed on top of him, while moaning as if she was peaking right then and there, even though he'd barely touched her.

"You haven't come already, have you?" he asked, never quite sure with someone new until he'd gotten to know her a little better.

"No, should I?" she offered sweetly.

He suppressed a smile. "Absolutely not without permission."

Ava sounded as if she was having to force air into her reluctant lungs at that, drumming her feet against the bed in protest.

By now, though, Kurt had had just about all he could take, and he moved a bit more quickly than he had been with her, turning with her, to tuck her beneath him.

As the imposing head of his cock naturally settled at her entrance, he happened to catch her expression out of the corner of his eye, and she looked a bit scared.

Forcing himself to become completely still—no matter how damned near impossible that was—he brought a hand up to brush her hair back from her face, while the other secreted itself between them as he held her open for himself. "Look at me, Ava."

She did as he told her.

"All right?" he asked.

She nodded her head, but he looked at her skeptically, drawling in a warning tone, "I hope you're not lying to me, little girl."

That was the moment when his fingers encountered her clit again, and any scariness or concerns or worries fled her mind entirely as he settled into two powerful rhythms—one after he took her very slowly that first time, mindful that he was larger than most and giving her as much time as he could to accommodate him. And the other, becoming just as demanding, as busy fingers worried her desperately needy clit.

It was a tight fit, and that made things all that much harder—in so many ways—on him, but he was determined to see her brought to pleasure first. Luckily, with the way Ava was acting, how her body was taut as a bowstring, straining for the reward he was very eager to give her; he only had to wait a few very short minutes before she exploded beneath him. Her wild, bucking, writhing maelstrom begat his own as he plunged mindlessly into her, peaking in an embarrassingly short amount of time, not that he thought she'd care or even notice.

Kurt forced himself to recover more quickly than he might have if this hadn't been their first time together. He'd kept her close to him throughout, not that she'd tried to move away, and when his eyes found her face, Ava's were closed, dark lashes casting shadows against her skin, breath still coming rapidly, her body much more tense than he thought it ought to be, considering how hard she had come.

But, maybe she still was?

He put a hand on her arm, and she started and whimpered at the same time.

"Is something wrong, honey?"

"No. No, I-I'm just… still contracting and it's hard to concentrate."

Kurt's eyes grew large as she confirmed his hunch with that very interesting tidbit of information. "You're still coming?"

She nodded and closed her eyes dreamily.

He didn't need to hear any more. Even though he'd just about expired a few minutes ago, he wasn't about to let her go wanting in any way that he could manage to address. And he loved to address exactly this situation.

Before Ava could say or do anything to the contrary, he was already between legs that she couldn't manage to move with any sort of coordination to stop him, and seconds later—long before she could come to grips with it—settling his mouth on her. She was so ultrasensitive that she yelped a bit when she felt his lips suckling at her, while she was trying to get away from him at the same time.

But he wasn't about to let her.

Once he had her fully subdued in a manner that was annoying but wasn't hurting her in the least, his head popped up from his delightful task and he asked, "Is there any reason I should know about as to why I can't bring you off this way another dozen or so times?"

She set to fighting him again, but it was ridiculously easy for him to render her motionless, and if she hadn't still been mostly under the spell of the pleasure he'd already brought her, she might have been worried about that. But she didn't have that capacity at the moment.

"Answer me, Ava," he scolded tenderly. "Would it scare you for me to do that to you?"

Her frustrated sigh answered his question, but he still waited for her to say it. "No."

"Would you prefer that I wear out your bottom instead, honey?" he warned.

That got her attention.

Her, "No, Sir," was sufficiently contrite.

"And there's no other reason that it might not be good for you, or you just don't like it, or it would conjure bad memories for you?"

Why was she wishing she could tell him yes—because she didn't like orgasms, or she didn't like having them practically forced on her?

No and no.

And she no sooner admitted that to him, however reluctantly, than he was back at it. And he wasn't kidding about wanting to get to a dozen, although she tapped out at about eight or so fairly tremendous climaxes. With that, Kurt crawled back up to the pillows, pulled her into his arms, and said but one word, that she had already obeyed.

"Sleep."