"Challenge of Love" is available in e-book format from Amazon.com!
Excerpt from Chapter One:
She swallowed and then pulled on his hand, leading him over to the bench. Slowly she stepped up to the leather padded support and bent over it. Mark put one trembling hand on her calf, reveling in the feel of her skin, and then slid it down to her cuffed ankle. The metal clip on the bench quickly secured her to the support and he ran his hand back up her side, under her arm, and then back down to her hand. He clipped the wrist cuff to the bench, securing one side of her before moving around to the opposite end of the bench. Stephanie spread her legs farther apart and stretched. His hands fumbled at the clips but he eventually succeeded at securing her.
His wife’s body looked terribly vulnerable; her well rounded form a dreadful temptation. Standing on tiptoes made her legs look even better than usual and the two little dimples just above her buttocks were practically made for kissing. But he turned away and picked up the paddle. He lifted the heavy weapon and swung it through the air once, eliciting a sharp exhalation from his wife, who had thought he was already striking. He laid a soft hand on her back, just above the target area.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked softly.
Stephanie shook her head, the tension in her body causing her to shake. “No, not really. It makes sense, but… I’m scared of the paddle,” she admitted. Her voice was trembling.
Mark nodded. He stroked her head and back, moving his hand down low to cup her upturned bottom. “I know. I’ll make it quick, okay?”
She nodded and he started to pull back.
“Wait!” she screamed. “Wait!”
It startled Mark and he dropped the paddle in fright.
“What! What?” he asked, moving around to her face. She lifted her head slightly and looked at him.
“Please… before you spank me, could you…” her voice trailed off with pressure. “Take me? Please?” she begged.
“Take you? Take you where?” he demanded, still rattled.
“Take me! You know!” she said, a touch of anger in her voice.
“Take you?”
“Fuck me, Mark! I want your cock inside me before you spank my ass!” Stephanie demanded in exasperation.
His eyes flew open wide. “What? You want to make love right now?” he asked incredulously.
She nodded vigorously. “Yes. Right now.”
Mark paused momentarily but then nodded. He reached out and began unclipping her wrist.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Freeing you? You said you wanted to make love?” he said stupidly.
She groaned. “Don’t. Don’t release me. I’m not sure I’ll be able to bend over like this again. Just move behind me, put your cock in me, and take me, Mark.”
He blinked. “You’re serious? You want me to take you like that?” he asked incredulously, looking at her raised bottom. Her slit looked seductively wet and soft. His voice belied his feelings. His cock was rock hard at the idea of taking her and he longed for the freedom to seek out her wet slit.
She nodded, as best she could while bent over the padded bench. “Please, Mark? Take me? I want something hard and fast and yet sweet and perfect. Take me before you spank me?
He took a deep breath. Then with careful fingers, he reattached her right wrist to the leg of the padded bench. He stood up and moved behind her. With exaggerated patience he pushed his shorts downward and exposed his rock hard shaft. It sprang upward, seeking out her wetness and when he tilted forward, the tip slipped delicately along her posterior until she gasped.
She shifted her weight and the probing head dipped into her wetness. Mark noticed her arousal, her exquisite need and with a hard thrust, one filled with wanton abandon, he buried himself to the hilt inside his wife, gasping in overwhelming release. It had been so long for him and he channeled the emotional revelations, the stress of their kidnapping, and even the horrific image of him paddling his wife’s bottom, into his first deep thrust.
The bench didn’t move, not even rocking as Mark pinioned Stephanie between his hips and the padded leather. His manhood pumped wildly and it didn’t take long before his wife was gasping, her legs straining as her husband worked himself through her loins with wild abandon. She felt the rising surge within, the roar of the fire as it burst into conflagration. She twisted her hips, trying to buck back against his pounding, but she was nothing more than a receptacle while bound to the bench.
She was so close when he came, squirting white cream into her depths with a cry of release that was more than just physical. Their coupling was the start of a reunion, a healing, and as he emptied himself inside her fresh tears streamed down his cheeks. Unaware that she hadn’t exploded herself, he pulled his limp shaft free of her, leaving wet streaks on her thighs and buttocks.
“Mark,” she gasped, trembling. “Now. Do it now!”
He blinked, still dazed with sex. He bent over, his cock a wet noodle lying against his skin. He grabbed the paddle and stepped to the side of his wife, positioning the paddle.
“Hurry!” she cried out, her own body beginning to slip away from the sexual energy of their love-making.
He lifted the paddle and swung. It landed with a light snicking sound and there was a brief ripple of impact that sent a wave down each thigh.
“Mark! Don’t fuck around! HIT ME!” she yelled at him.
Mark let out a roar and swung the paddle hard. It landed harshly, the radiating circle of pressure slashing outward. Stephanie cried out, head thrown back, eyes brimming with tears that poured down her cheeks. Her fingers were wide apart as she strained against the bindings.
He pulled the paddle back and looked at his wife’s rump. A massive rectangular shape had appeared in scarlet across both buttocks and a hard lump came to his throat. Stephanie collapsed in her bonds, her body heaving as her sobs of anguish shook her.
“Steph? Are you okay?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “It hurt! Oh God that hurt.”
Mark’s eyes watered. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…” he started to say but she shook her head.
“Do it again,” she whispered.
“What?”
“You have to hit me again. The door will open but you’ve got to turn my entire bottom red.”
He blinked. “No. No! I can’t do it! Please! Stephanie, there’s got to be another way.”
Her lip trembled. “Touch me. Touch me while you paddle me and I’ll be able to handle it,” she begged.
He looked at her, aghast, and then nodded. On his knees beside her, he reached up and pushed his hand between his wife’s loins and the padded bench. Slowly he worked himself deeper until he felt the moist flesh of her sex. She groaned in obvious relief as his fingers found her slit, his thumb pressing against her clit.
“Yes. Right there. Rub me!” she gasped.
Mark had never done anything like this before. Even during the better years of their marriage the sex was vanilla and rather routine. To touch her like this, his fingers slipping into her depths while his thumb worked at her clit was novel, and rather nice.
Her breathing had deepened and her buttocks were clenching and relaxing in time with the rhythms of her arousal. Her chest heaved, even bent over the bench and she nodded. “Now, Mark. Spank me! Spank me until I cum!”
The dirty words uttered by his wife were more of a motivation than anything he’d ever felt. She had never spoken like that before! His left hand continued to work at his wife’s clit and sex and he picked up the massive wooden paddle with his right. He lost much of the power in the kneeling position, but the paddle still landed painfully across her bottom, leaving a second, slightly lighter rectangle of red. Stephanie let out a keening wail and her toes came up off the ground for a second.
“KEEP HITTING ME!” she screamed. Mark flung his arm wide and slammed the paddle back into his wife’s rear. His left hand continued working at her sex, and she bucked and wailed as he brought the paddle down against her bottom again.
He didn’t bother to count, but struck again and again until her rump was fire-engine red. Her hips were grinding and she bucked rapidly, her entire body jerking with both sexual need and the fire of the spanking. Over the ruckus, Mark heard a loud thud and looked up.
“Stephanie! The door! The door is open!” he said wildly. He pulled his hand away.
“No! DON’T STOP!” she screamed at him.
Mark turned and looked back at his wife in surprise. He stood there stock still for a second, then lifted the paddle and slammed it hard into her bottom.
She would have kicked if she could and instead she thrashed, her head jerking back and forth, her hair wild. Her teeth were clenched and her eyes closed. The keening wail she was issuing became louder and her entire body shook like a tree in the throes of a hurricane. Mark lifted the paddle again, but then chickened out, unwilling to smack her again. Her bottom was already deep scarlet.
