Chapter 8

When she was in front of him, she almost chickened out because of just how big he loomed before her. But then she boosted herself up on tiptoes and wrapped her arms as far around him as they would go. But that wasn't near far enough.

So, she said, "Hold that thought," went to the dining room and pinched one of the chairs from the matching set. Then she stood on top of it and was pretty much his height.

"I like this." She smiled, draping her arms around his neck for the first time with ease.

"So do I," Pace growled, wanting nothing more than to wrap his hands around her and hug her to him, but he didn't want to scare her any more than he already had, although his arms were itching to hold her.

Then she kissed him, sweetly, at first, then more passionately, fingers finding their way into his hair as she pressed herself against him.

Still, he held himself off, not wanting to ask for more from her than what she was willing to give.

"Pace," she asked in a conspiratorial whisper when she finally pulled a little away from him.

"Yes, Jayne?" he whispered back.

Her bravery—such as it had been—deserted her as he gazed intently into her eyes. She had to lower hers, for a moment, then brought them back to his.

"Do you want to…I mean…would you like to—"

She never did get to finish that sentence.

He finished it for her by lifting her into his arms and carrying her back into his bedroom, where he turned the light on but dimmed it to very low, setting her down just inside the door as if she was infinitely fragile.

"—make love to you?" he rasped, finishing her unfinished question.

She was looking all adorably hesitant again, eyes darting here and there, biting her lip and not looking at him.

His index finger beneath her chin solved that, not stopping until their eyes met. "Are you sure you want me to?" he asked, not wanting to but knowing he had to.

"Oh, yes," she breathed. "But will you let me…set the pace?"

"Of course, darlin'." His cock wasn't very happy with that idea—it wanted to be buried within her right the hell now. But he—all of him—was just going to have to wait.

If she wanted to do this, which surprised the ever-loving crap out of him in the first place, and she wanted to decide when things got done, he was perfectly fine with that. He might likely die if it wasn't soon, but he'd die a happy man. Unfulfilled, but happy overall.

Because he'd not been sleeping in his room, he was largely still dressed. He'd taken his shirt off, but he was still in his jeans. And when she sank to the carpeting before him and reached for his belt buckle, he thought he was going to lose the battle right then and there.

Jayne undid his belt then the button of his jeans and the zipper, which wasn't cooperating because it was pressed so tightly against the rock-hard cock that was behind it. Still, she persisted, pulling the jeans down to the floor, where he stepped out of them.

Then she rose, and he had to admire every elegant line of her as she did, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt and trying to lift it over his head, which she barely managed. But he kept his arms down so that she could take it off more easily. Then, knowing his neat tendencies, she folded the jeans and the t-shirt and put them on top of the hamper.

He was standing there in a pair of briefs with the waistband pulled well away from his stomach, trying to contain his erection.

She went to her knees again, and he stopped her. "You don't have to do that, Jayne."

"No, I'm fine. Really."

Her eyes were on his, and he saw no sign of hesitancy or shadow of fear there, so he nodded his head.

Damn, he was downright glorious—long and proud and very, very stiff.

* * *

She reached for him, and again, he stopped her—mostly in consideration of himself, rather than her. For someone who had wanted to control the pace, she was going pretty darned quickly, and Pace worried even more that he wasn't going to be able to go the distance.

"Y-you don't have to do that, either," he said tightly.

"I would like to if you don't mind."

'If he didn't mind.' Jesus. This woman was going to kill him dead, Pace thought.

But to her, he said, "All right."

Hopefully, she'd be shit at it, and it would be easy for him to ignore her attempts.

Unfortunately, the exact opposite was true. She was perfect. She didn't treat him like a piece of meat or act as if she hated it and doing him a huge favor. She acted as if she enjoyed doing it, listening and changing her movements, pressure, the use of her tongue based on what he was saying or doing. And he was saying quite a bit.

When she'd taken him in her mouth at first, in one long swallow, all the way down to the root, so that her nose was buried in his treasure trail, he almost shot right then and there.

Then she backed off, using her tongue enthusiastically on the underside, and replacing the loss of her mouth with both of her hands and twisting them, too.

Damn!

Then she began a rhythm that was unfailing. She didn't stop, she didn't hesitate, she didn't get tired. Sometimes she moved a hand to gently cup and roll his balls, but other than that, she stuck to the goal, and she was gaining fast on it.

But that wasn't what he wanted for his first time with her. He wanted to be inside her.

So—against everything he believed in—he stopped her.

"Jayne, I mean this in the best way possible, but you are a beast. You are amazing at that; I mean it."

Since he'd stopped her, though, he could tell she wasn't necessarily sure he was being truthful with her. "But I want you. Your mouth is wonderful. But I want to bury myself inside you."

More lip biting, but she didn't look afraid, really, just surprised and a little worried? He thought.

"How about if I do the same thing for you?" Although much more quickly, he thought but didn't say.

Pace stepped closer to her and pulled her against him for a long, deep kiss, during which he slowly allowed his hands to creep under the hem of her nightie to explore her back. She was just impossibly soft and warm beneath his rough fingertips, and he knew he would never, ever have enough of touching her.

With the material pooled at his thick wrists, it was easy enough for him to simply raise it up and over her head, letting it float down where it would. He honestly didn't give a crap where it ended up—neatness be damned.

Because now, she was standing in front of him wearing nothing but a pair of pretty panties.

Jayne automatically crossed her arms over her breasts, which was probably a pretty stupid thing for a grown woman—who had birthed a child—to do, but she felt as if she had to. It had been a very long time since she'd been anywhere near naked in front of anyone, much less a man she didn't know all that well.

Before he looked anywhere but at what he could see of her breasts, he reached for her arms to move them away, figuring that hers was an act of false modesty, something she thought she ought to do but didn't really want to. But before he got there, his eyes flickered up to her face.

And there, he could see what he didn't want to, the fear creeping into her eyes, and his hands fell to his sides before he touched her. "Shall we stop, honey?" he asked, voice husky with need. But if she wanted him to stop, he would damn well stop.

"No," she answered softly, but she still wasn't looking at him.

"Baby?" Pace crooned. "You are safe with me. Always."

She nodded. "I-I know."

He sighed, not wanting to do this if she didn't want him to.

"Pace?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Will—will you do something for me?"

"Anything, Jayne," Pace answered, and he meant it, too.

It took her a minute for her eyes to find his, but he stood still and waited patiently.

And when those big eyes settled on his, she asked him something that, at first, he was sure he'd heard wrong.

"Would you—would you tell me to—to move my arms?" she whispered.

"But if you don't want to—"

"But I do. I want to be close to you, please." She was looking down again then back up at him. "Help me. If you tell me to, I'll be able to do it. I know it's stupid, but when you were spanking me and talking to me before and after, and when you held me in the chair, your voice—the tone of voice you used with me was just so powerful to me." One tear trailed down her cheek, and he couldn't bear it, so he brushed it away for her. "Please?"

Pace swallowed, his mind whirring with this new information about her, then he wrapped his arms loosely around her, leaning over to whisper into her ear, "Be a good girl and put your arms down for me, sweetheart."

Of course, he'd known exactly what to say to her, and her arms fell away from her body.

"Very good girl," he whispered, his heart swelling at least as much as his cock already was. "I'm going to step back a bit, because I want to see you. It's just me, and I'm already more than halfway in love with you, so you have nothing to worry about. I already think you're gorgeous, too."

He more than halfway loved her? Jayne could hardly believe her ears!

"Perfection, of course," he pronounced, eyes always moving to hers to judge how she was feeling as he captured them and carefully caressed them. Her nipples were hard and tight, and he saw that as a good sign, but he really couldn't dawdle much if he was going to see to her before he succumbed to his own pleasure.

"Lie down on the bed for me, my Jayne. On your back. Good girl." She obeyed him immediately, and it amazed him, but he made certain that he always used a very loving, if sometimes stern, tone.

He stretched out beside her, and she was tense, but he didn't think that she was overly so. Slow, deep kisses helped, especially when he began to gently roll her nipples. She actually gasped, and he had to chuckle. She was acting practically like she'd never done this before, as if she was a virgin.

From there, his fingertips made their way slowly down that soft skin and slightly rounded belly, to hover above her mons.

"Open your legs for me, darlin'."

She did exactly as he asked, and his hand eagerly claimed her there. Not in a rough, marauding manner, like how her husband used to do, as if she had no feeling down there at all, but with gentle probing and light caresses, exploring rather than conquering.

Pace was trying to find out what she liked, but by this point, he wasn't at all sure he could linger much longer, despite the fact that he desperately wanted to. Instead, he felt compelled to give in to his own desires, hoping she wouldn't hate him too much.

"Jayne, I'm so sorry, but I have to have you." Within seconds, he found himself buried deep within her, plunging and bucking, more of a slave to his desires than he had been since he was a teenager and entirely embarrassed that this was how he was behaving the first time they were together.

But, gods, she was exquisite! He could barely believe she'd had a child, she was clenched so tightly around him. He barely noticed, although her arms were around him the entire time, and she'd not raised any objections whatsoever to what he was doing, she wasn't getting—much, if anything—out of it, either.

But he did notice.

It took him an ignominiously short amount of time before he came with a long, low growl and much shuddering and shaking. Then he collapsed down on top of her, breathing as if he'd just finished a marathon, breath puffing out of him and into her hair.

Pace could feel her hands trailing up and down his back, as if she was trying to soothe him, and he thought it was one of the few times she'd touched him without being prompted to. As he continued to work his way through the aftermath, he realized with no small amount of chagrin that he was taking longer to recover from making love to her for the first time than he did actually making love to her the first time, and he knew that could not stand.

Nor could the fact that while he was shaking and shuddering and panting, she was lying there as if nothing had happened to her, and indeed, nothing had. He intended to rectify that as soon as he possibly could.

Still, he was so shaken and floored by what had happened that it was several more minutes before he rolled off her, taking her hand and kissing the palm.

"That was the hardest I've ever come in my life, I swear."

She colored prettily at that.

"But you didn't." It wasn't a question; it was a statement.

"That's okay." She tried to tug her hand away, but he wouldn't let go. In fact, he consolidated his hold on her by drawing her into his arms, even though she was still trying to get away from him. Her eyes were down, and she was all tense again.

Then a thought struck him, and he knew he was probably right about it, whether or not she was willing to admit it.

"Did Jake bring you off when you had sex, baby? You don't have to go into detail about your sex life with him." He would really rather not know, but he'd listen and try not to cringe if she wanted to talk about it. "Just nod or shake your head."

She opened her mouth then closed it again, her eyes occasionally darting to his as if to beg him not to ask her this, but she didn't say or do anything in response to his question.

"Jayne," he intoned, carefully stern with her.

Her body stiffened more, as if she knew where this was going if she didn't obey him. But she wasn't trembling.

"Answer me, Jayne. I'm sure you know that there'll be consequences if you disobey me in this, don't you?" With that last bit, his voice was almost sweet, as if he would be terribly sorry to have to spank her over this.

She buried her face in his chest but did nothing toward actually answering his question.

Pace wasn't one to shirk his responsibilities, so in a matter of seconds, she found herself on her tummy, with one of his arms lying gently across her back and the other hand smacking down soundly onto her vulnerable behind.

Smack! Smack! Swat! Smack!

This was much less of a gentle spanking and much closer to how he would spank her in the future—using almost full force, sharp slaps that drew yelps and squeals from her from the start.

"You know, Jayne, that I expect you to obey me, and I hate to have to do this when it's a very simple yes or no question, so I do expect you to obey me and give me an answer."

Pace continued spanking her, watching those lovely, generous cheeks wobble with each smack, growing first a pretty pink, then dusky rose, then downright red as she reacted in that darling, predictable way—which he counted as an achievement—kicking her feet up and trying to twist and turn herself to avoid any possible blow.

When he thought that he had made his point, he laid his hand down on her sore looking, hot behind. "Well, Jayne?"

She was sniffling and sobbing, and he very much wanted to comfort her, but he would be obeyed first.

Until she put her arms up to him and asked, very wretchedly, "W-would you hold me?"

How could he possibly turn her down? But still, he forced himself to ask, "And you will tell me?"

She nodded through her tears, and he didn't delay a second before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him, so that they were both lying on their sides, her head on his shoulder as he held her tight.

As a warning that if she didn't follow through, the spanking would continue, he put his hand over her bottom—and it covered all of it very nicely.

"You have something to say to me, honey?" he prompted.

Jayne nodded slowly, speaking quietly and hesitantly, as if she was terribly ashamed of what she was going to say. "N-no, he d-didn't. He didn't c-care whether I got anything out of s-sex."

Pace tightened his arms around her at that, cursing her husband yet again for being a thousand times an asshole—and a fool. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. That's terrible." He held her close for several long minutes, then he asked, "Was he your only lover?"

She shook her head. "No. I-I haven't had many—"

And Pace smiled. "Well, I can't complain about that," he teased.

But she wasn't in a mood to smile. "But I had a few."

"Surely, they satisfied you?"

But Jayne, looking anywhere but at him, shook her head.

"No? None of them?"

He sounded so astounded that Jayne felt even worse confessing this to him, and all she wanted to do was crawl away into a hole and never come out of it.

But his reaction was not at all what she expected, even though she should have known him well enough to predict it. She had wallowed too far into her own misery and couldn't think that well about anything else.

Pace cupped her cheek and forced her to look up at him, at a time when that was the last thing she wanted to do. "My poor baby, so overlooked and under cared for." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Well, that's ended right here and now, because I can't be obnoxiously happy unless I know you are, so we're going to get you very, very happy, I promise, right now."

As his mouth took hers, gently but passionately, he rolled her onto her back, taking his time, his tongue dancing with hers, teeth nibbling teasingly at the tip of hers and playfully worrying her lip.

Then he caught her eye. "You are to do nothing but relax, my dear, and feel. That's all I will allow you to do, understand?"

Jayne nodded, looking a bit scared and very dubious.

But he didn't address either of those things. Pace was of a mind that the fear would drop away as he caressed and kissed her during the course of bringing her to ecstasy, and that in and of itself would solve her doubtfulness.

At first, all he did was what he'd wanted to do for some time—he touched every single inch of her, except her centers of pleasure, leaving her breasts and that lovely haven between her legs alone for a moment. He began very softly at the top of her head, running his hands through her hair then moved down, using only light touches everywhere, including her back, bestowing sweet kisses wherever and whenever the mood struck.

Pace noted with no small sense of pride that her bottom was quite red, which was probably why she'd whimpered so enticingly when he'd rolled her onto it.

On the return trip, his touch was a bit heavier, leaning toward massaging but not enough to put her to sleep.

Jayne couldn't believe what he was doing—no one had ever taken the time to see to her like this. She'd done this—occasionally—with Jake when they were first married, but he never bothered to reciprocate. She should have known that Pace would be more than willing to do this for her. But she still worried that she wasn't going to be able to respond to him, even though she could feel that her body was generously slickening itself in preparation for him.

And when he'd very carefully rolled her onto her back again to continue his ministrations, she luxuriated in his touch, doing exactly what he had told her to do, relax and feel, and she was being positively flooded with sensations that tightened her nipples and made her want to arch into his touch. But she didn't.

When his fingers had again ended up in her hair, Pace let them trail down the center of her body—forehead, nose, lips, chin, down a very slender, elegant neck to her collarbone, which had her trembling, but in a good way, he thought. They continued down, between the twin slopes of her breasts, down the center of her belly, to her bare lips.

Then, as he leaned forward to press his lips to her ear and his fingers between those enticing nether lips, Pace whispered raggedly, in the throes of his own renewed passion, "Open your legs for me, my Jayne."

But they didn't budge, not in the slightest.

His fingers didn't push at all. He wanted her to obey him.

"Jayne." It was more of a warning than he was usually going to give her, but she ignored it. He could see that she was tentative and hesitant about what she was doing, as she should have been, having already been spanked once.

And he was less likely to be patient with her because of it.

Again, she found herself flipped, like a rag doll, onto her stomach, held down, and spanked quite sternly. He did much less talking during this spanking than he had any so far, essentially just repeating his demand once while he was diligently making her backside even redder and sorer than it already was.

Jayne, who had always pictured herself as stoic through a spanking, when she used to fantasize about them, was anything but. Every smack that landed on her previously tenderized flesh hurt a thousand times worse, she was certain of it. It was horrible, and she wanted it to stop, but he didn't show any signs of slowing.

"Ow, no, stop, Pace! Stop!" She found herself begging, to no avail.

"I will stop when you agree to obey me, lovely," he stated, his voice encouraging but firm.

He couldn't just be spanking her with his hand, could he? It hurt like the dickens, and even though she knew she was likely to lose him when he couldn't achieve what he wanted to, as it continued to fall in a rhythm and with a painful accuracy that took her breath away, Jayne finally cried quits.

"Yes! I'll obey you! Pace! I-I'll do it!"

He held her in his arms this time for a while, until she'd stopped crying, whispering soothing things to her and rubbing her back before he laid her on it again, his hand finding that spot immediately.

Pace gave her an expectant look, and she obeyed him, moving her legs well apart but looking away from him, for a reason he couldn't fathom and didn't want to address at this moment. It was too incredibly important to him that he pleasure her, that he show her that she could enjoy sex, as it seemed she hadn't all these years.

So, he, as his fingers began to claim that very intimate spot, attuned himself to her as best he could even though her face was turned away from his, but he could still hear and see her breathing, feel her shudder once, slightly, as his fingertips encountered her clit.

He noted with satisfaction that it was quite swollen, and when he moved further down, his whole hand was nearly flooded with the undeniable evidence of her desire. He very nearly whooped at that but managed not to. She was lying there, so stiff and tense, that he wanted to jolt her out of it.

"Someone likes to be spanked," he teased.

"No, I do not!" she countered very forcefully, making as if she would get up and fight him about that.

"Stop."

That was all he said, but it was more than enough.

"I'm not going to belabor the point, but it's true, and I'll tell you how I know at another time. I don't want you to think about that right now, though. Settle back."

Pace set about making certain that she couldn't think about anything but what he was doing to her, coordinating bringing his slick fingers up to her clit at the same time he leaned down and took a ripe, pink nipple into his mouth.

He thought she jumped at least fifteen feet off the bed at that, and it got her to turn her head, especially when his lips clung to that hard berry, his fingers brushing teasingly, at first, then more firmly over the pearl between her legs.

"Pace," she breathed, and he could feel all of that tension draining from her as he continued to flick her nipple and her clit at the same time and in the same rhythm.

"Yes, darlin'?" he asked, mouth still buried against her breast.

"What are you doing? I-I-I've never felt like this before."

He couldn't help but lift his head and look down at her, knowing he was wearing a triumphant smile. "Oh, honey, that is such a shame. But no more. I'm going to make you feel like this—and much, much, better—every time we make love."

With that, he moved his big body down between her legs, deliberately forcing them wider as he caught a nipple with his fingers, instead, and began to pluck at it.

Jayne was lost in a sea of overwhelming new sensations. She didn't know what to say or do, and she knew she was moaning like a porn star, her breathing rapid like her pulse, feeling utterly out of control, and yet she was perfectly okay with it, because she was with Pace.

Parts of her wanted to panic at the thought of losing control, but her mind kept repeating that this was Pace, and she could look down and see him between her legs, eagerly lapping at her, rubbing and flicking and paying attention and adjusting his rhythm and motion to what he thought she liked the best.

He could feel the tension gathering in her lower body—good tension this time—reaching down to press two fingers of his free hand into her, hard, seating them to the hilt in one swift, sure motion.

She actually screamed at that, and her hips jerked, but his mouth rode her as determinedly as he had so many recalcitrant horses, never letting go, never letting up.

When she was seconds from orgasming, Jayne suddenly became afraid, and she was so far gone that she didn't even think about it. She cried out to him. "Pace, no, I'm scared!"

He left off instantly, which made her groan and him grin, although he hid it. His hands found hers, and he laced their fingers. "You know I would never hurt you, right, my Jayne?"

"Y-yes," she answered, although her butt might have strenuously objected to that.

"And that you're safe with me?" he asked, voice in a deep, soothing, almost vibrato.

"Y-yes."

He was thrilled to the core at her answers, but he put that aside. "Then you must trust me, Jayne. I know it's new and different and a little scary maybe."

Then he had a thought, and he switched his position so that he was lying next to her instead. It might not be as fabulous an orgasm as he could give her with his mouth, but that wasn't what she needed this time. She needed him to be close to her, to reassure her with his presence and his body, when something was happening to her that she couldn't control and it scared her.

"You can grab onto me anyhow, any way you want to, baby. You won't hurt me." He was staring straight into her eyes. "But I want you to experience this. I promise you that, when it's over, you'll wonder why you were ever hesitant about it—it's that good." He kissed her deeply then pulled back. "Trust me."

Jayne wasn't sure whether it was an order or a question, but she didn't get time to think about it. He was worrying her nipple with the edges of his teeth, and the pads of his fingers were driving her crazy, gliding over and around her clit mercilessly.

Her muscles began to tense again, and she felt an unusual tingling, and the pleasure built even more quickly than it had before, until it burst inside her and she clung to him, heaving and gasping and groaning all at the same time as her entire body contracted in an unbelievably ecstatic spasm that she wanted to go on forever. And it did.

Pace didn't want to overwhelm her, but he did want her to know that she could have more than one climax, so he was very persistent, brushing her clit very lightly throughout. And, to his great surprise, not long after her first, she was thrown into her second explosion, and he held her as she clung to him through it again, loving the fact that she was turning to him for solace. He held her in his arms for a very long time, reveling in every single second.

She had relaxed into a puddle at first. He thought it was the first time that she'd ever really just let go for him, and he couldn't have been happier. Hell, he was more ecstatic about her pleasure than his own, by far. But then, she began to grab at him in a different way, twisting and groaning within the confines of his arms, fingers digging into his skin.

"Honey, what is it?" he asked, trying to push her a bit away from him so that he could look into her eyes.

But she fought him, burying her head against his chest and weeping piteously.

Pace didn't know what to do or why she was crying like this, but it sounded as if she was being torn apart.

So, he held her as best he could, waiting for her to be ready to talk to him about it.

And it didn't take her too long, for which he was grateful.

At first, she was just murmuring against his chest, but it rapidly became louder and angrier, until she pushed herself away from him but not looking at him, and he understood what she was raging about.

"He told me I was frigid! He made me feel like I was defective, less of a woman! But it was his fault!"

Sighing heavily, Pace gathered her to him. She was snarling and pounding on his chest and crying and screaming at the same time, and he just surrounded her with himself as much as he could, holding her, rocking her, murmuring soft, meaningless things to her and just being there for her and with her.

Finally, she lay curled up against him on his lap like a child, spent, until, suddenly, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, almost pulling herself up on him. "I-I'm so sorry for doing that—"

But Pace cut her off. "That is a spankable offense, angel. No apologizing to me for crying or being emotional."

She shrank a little at the disciplinary note in his voice, but not much, and he didn't sweat it, because she was still holding onto him very tightly.

"Then, thank you," she croaked, "f-for everything."

He chuckled softly. "Especially some very particular things, I'm guessing."

"Pace!" she chided through her blush.

He caught her eyes. "I'm very sorry that he put you through that. But he's over, and now you know he was wrong."

Jayne nodded. "About so many things."

He wanted to ask her if she'd done anything toward divorcing him, but he wasn't sure he should at this point.

Then she came out with, "I've already started divorce proceedings," and looked up at him shyly. "I want to be free."

He hugged her tightly, rocking them both, and saying, "Just so you can be claimed again," he commented boldly, wondering what her reaction would be.

Jayne looked up at him, her palms framing his beautiful face. "Yes, but by such a better man, hopefully." Then she looked down for a moment and back up at him. "I know it's too soon to say it, but I-I think I—"

"Love you?" Pace said at the same time she did, kissing her with every bit of love in his big body.

When he pulled back, she sighed, "Oh, God, yes!"

Jayne sat up to kiss him again as he wrapped her into the warmest, most loving hug she'd ever had before he laced his fingers into her hair and nuzzled her nose, whispering with poignant reverence, "I love you, too, Jayne." Then his mouth found hers again. "You won't ever have to be afraid again."