He bites my nipple, so gently, and I have to roll my eyes with pleasure. My gaze wanders to our reflection in the mirror again.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, distracted. “What are you looking at?”

Caught. Red-handed. I can’t help it. The visual of us in the mirror mounted on the clean, vast wall of the suite is…intoxicating. The juxtaposition of his body against mine. His blond-to-silver hair brushing the warm milk chocolate of my skin, his long, pale peach fingers pulling, cautiously twisting at the sienna circle of my areola.

He tries to admonish me. “Bad girl. You like to watch.”

This is an understatement. I love to watch.

Like watching him last night, when he folded me over his lap and spanked me. Right before he laid me down on the pile of pillows at the head of the king-size bed and proceeded to worship my breasts.

The spanking was…scintillating. I’ll have to find a way to convince him to do more of that.

…to be continued…