Hot Bottom Lovin'
"I don't want to do this anymore," she stated with a calm she didn't feel. Wiggling her lower body she sought a more comfortable spot on his lap easing the contact between her burning bottom and his thighs. When she was precariously perched, she leaned on his chest and clutched his T-shirt. Hanging on to him, she breathed in and out and tried to gather her thoughts into an acceptable argument.
He held her close but remained silent. From past experience he knew she wasn't finished saying whatever was on her mind.
"I don't like this and I'm not going to let you do that again."
"If you need a hot bottom to remind you to take better care of yourself, you're going to get one," he murmured, bending his head to kiss the top of hers.
"Has that ever made a difference in what I do?" she snapped. "I do what I do because it seems like the right thing to do at the time."
"If it takes more spankings to make you think before you act, so be it," he replied, his own voice remaining soft and calm.
"You're beating me. I'm not living with a man who beats me."
"I'm not just any man, sweetheart; I'm your husband and I'm not beating you. I'm spanking you. Big difference between beatings and spankings."
"A beating is a series of hitting. A spank is a hit," Spencer argued, pulling back to look at him. "Put all those hits together and you have a beating. And a beating leaves bruises and lots of times you bruise my rear end when you lose control."
"A beating leaves bruising on other parts of the body and rarely on a bottom. Furthermore," he added as he cupped her face in both hands, "I can't remember ever leaving bruises. If I did, it's because you did something that deserved a hard spanking. What few bruises there may have been were so slight you had to look for them. I know you felt them," he agreed when he saw her look of skepticism "but you're supposed to feel them. And..." he bent his head to rub his lips across her brow, "a spanking is done with love, bambina and I never lose control, especially not with you."
Spencer snorted. "I don't think you love me very much at all. I think you just abuse my bottom as a means of letting out whatever frustrations you have. Well, that's ending as of this minute," she announced and leaned back to fold her arms across her chest in indignation. Fortunately, his arms caught her before she lost her perch on his lap.
JC's response to her little announcement was to kiss away the tears that lingered beneath her eyes. And then, because he couldn't help himself, he wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her close to his chest and murmured in her ear.
"There's another reason I might spank you," he whispered. "In addition to safety and health issues, I should spank you every time you think I don't love you enough."
It was winter in Virginia. Snow was a thick white blanket, so thick that the evergreens surrounding the perimeter of their yard were completely white. It was snowing again when they woke that morning but in no time the snow had turned to sleet. In freezing temperatures, sharp icicles rained down, the sound of the wind blowing eerie and constant. In addition to adding wood to the fire, JC turned the furnace up creating a nice warm cozy haven.
Spencer felt stifled; it was too warm in the house. She knew JC would never allow her to go outside, not that she wanted to. But she needed fresh air - cool air - and she thought she'd open a window. She wouldn't open it all the way; just a couple of inches, just enough to get cooled down for a minute. She stood in front of it, breathing in the chilled air - enjoying it - and was just closing it when...
"What the hell are you doing?" an irate voice said behind her as he slammed the window shut. Before she could reply, a large hand delivered a hard swat to her bottom cheeks.
"Tempting pneumonia, bambina?" JC asked and upended Spencer on the spot. Half a dozen hard swats were delivered in the space of two breaths and then he pulled her up into his arms and held her tight. "Why did you open the window, Spence? You know it's freezing out there. Did you try to get sick on purpose? Talk to me, bambina."
Spencer was shaking but not from cold. "You scared me," she said. "And... and you spanked me before you even knew what was happening. What's wrong with you?" she asked, tears filling her eyes. "Are you just waiting to see me do something wrong? ...something you don't like? ...so you can spank me?"
"No, baby," he murmured, pulling her close. "But standing in an open window on one of the coldest days of the year... your lungs filling with cold wet air... I... it was reflex. You're right. I should have waited for you to say something before I... Mi spiace, bambina I'm sorry, baby. I apologize."
Silence followed his words. Spencer had to regain her composure. The spanking had stung but the sting shouldn't last too long; it had been brief.
"It was too warm in the house," she explained when he settled her on his lap. "I was feeling hot... stuffy. I needed fresh air and the window was only open a couple of inches. I kept it open less than a minute. Just needed some air, that's all there was to it."
"Why didn't you tell me? I would have lowered the furnace."
"I'm capable of opening a window by myself," Spencer muttered. "And I didn't think I needed your permission. You're a bully!" she yelled and jumped from his lap.
"And you're not spanking me again and that's that!"
JC wasn't sure if he should laugh or grab her and turn her over his knee again. She stood before him - a tempest in a teacup - hands on her hips, hair mussed and fury in her eyes. He was greatly relieved he was in the habit of locking his gun cabinet.
Crossing his arms, he decided to stare her down.
He arched a brow.
He started to rise from the couch.
Spencer turned tail, ran up the stairs and into the guest bedroom and locked the door.
JC took the stairs at a leisurely pace but paused mid-step when he heard something being dragged and pushed across the floor.
She's putting the dresser in front of the door.
After settling the top of the low-boy dresser under the doorknob, Spencer slid to the floor along the wall, trying to catch her breath from the exertion. "That damn dresser weighs a ton," she muttered.
And then she waited...
She didn't have to wait long.
"Open the door, bambina."
Spencer rolled her eyes.
"Just turn the knob. I'll push the dresser away from the door."
Christ on a clamshell!
"I'm running out of patience, baby."
"I'm running out of tolerance for being beaten up whenever the mood strikes you, you bully!"
Whenever the mood strikes me...?
Her words gave him pause. He leaned against the hallway wall and thought about that. Have I spanked her unnecessarily? Do I do that so often she can't make an innocent move without my upending her? Is she afraid of me?
As a commanding officer he was used to being in charge, used to making decisions that affected lives, used to having his every order instantly obeyed. Any hesitation on a subordinate's part, in particular in military conflicts, would be squashed on the spot. Those thoughts led to other thoughts - depending on the circumstances he invited the opinions of his subordinates, encouraged discussion, listened to other opinions and valued their input.
So... why not my wife?
Myriad thoughts flew through his mind... the gist of those thoughts was that he was overprotective of the one person who meant more to him than anyone or anything else in the world.
Certain he was only acting the way a man should act toward the person he loved and cherished most, he banged on the door. "Unlock the door, Spence. We need to talk."
"I don't want to talk to you."
"Unlock the door, NOW!"
"You want to talk? Talk."
"Face to face, baby," JC said in a softer tone. "Now unlock the door... per piacere please."
"Sure. Just don't hold your breath," she muttered.
She was positive once he was in the room, he'd blister her behind. No sense opening the door and letting that happen.
"I'm waiting Spence."
"Me too," she mumbled. "Let me know when Hell freezes over," she yelled.
He couldn't help grinning at her words; she was on a roll.
Basta! Enough was enough!
Resigned to the fact that he would have to replace the lock he was about to break... again... he twisted it until the doorknob loosened from the wood. His fist came down and the wood cracked... the knob hung from the door and irritated that he would probably have to replace the entire door... he put his body weight and enough of his strength against it forcing the heavy dresser away. He slipped through the opening just as he saw Spencer crawl into the wall-length closet.
He crawled in behind her.
"No bambina. We need to talk."
"First," he said, lowering his voice and reaching for her. "I need to touch you, hold you while we talk."
"Yes," he replied and though she wiggled as far back into the closet as she could go, he simply reached over and pulled her onto his lap.
"Don't you dare spank me!" she hissed and pushed her hands against his chest.
"Oso I dare," he murmured and with one arm holding her tight, he slipped the other down her back to cup her warm bottom.
"You're a bully," she snapped.
"I'm a man in love with my wife and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and well. Opening a window on a cold day deserves a warm bottom. I could have lowered the furnace instead. You acted impulsively."
"So did you and my bottom isn't warm, it's hot," Spencer muttered.
"It'll cool in a few minutes."
"You can't beat me every time you don't like what I do," she said with some exasperation.
"I wouldn't dream of beating you, bambina, but I'll upend you and spank you without batting an eye if you jeopardize your health."
"You can't do that!" she shouted and punched him as hard as she could.
"I can," he whispered, ignoring her outburst and turned her over onto her back to lay down on top of her.
"You're crushing me," she gasped.
"Are you going to listen to me, Spence?"
"Okay, we'll talk when you're in a more reasonable mood. In the meantime," he continued, "I'll make love to you."
"Here? In the closet?"
"You're right. It's cramped in here. We'll go downstairs."
"I'm not going anywhere with you..." she began but JC ignored her and pulled her out of the closet, swung her over his shoulder and headed downstairs to the rug in front of the blazing fire.
He didn't give her a chance to protest. With one hand he held her arms above her head, with the other he pulled her sweater up and her sweats down. And then he played dirty...
Pulling his own sweats off, he hovered over her - full length - his chest teasing her breasts, his belly kissing hers, his thickened need for her skimming her thighs as he edged closer and closer to the sweetness he sought.
"That's not fair," Spencer gasped. "You're playing dirty."
"All is fair in love and war, bambina," he murmured, dropping his head to kiss her brow. "And I'm not playing."
"Now..." he demanded as he plunged into her heat. "Talk to me. Tell me why you ran from me."
"I can't think when you're... you... you're a bully!" she gasped and tightened her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Let go of my arms!"
He released her arms and she immediately boxed his ears and he laughed, still pushing in and out of her. "You're like a hissing kitten," he grinned. "Com'ere, com'ere, com'ere, getaway, getaway, getaway. Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?"
She couldn't answer. She wanted to answer, wanted to scold him, make a scathing reply, but all she could do was confirm his words. She hissed at him... then gasped... her inner walls reflexively tightening around him... then an explosion of bliss...
Cradled in his arms and sated, she finally acknowledged the warmth and tenderness of his embrace and opened her eyes.
"If you really loved me," she told him, one finger caressing the side of his jaw. "You wouldn't spank me, ever."
"I really love you," he assured her, rubbing his mouth over hers. "And I spank you because of that love."
"Risking your health by standing in front of an open window on a snow and sleet filled day - even for a short while - hurts me. I can't let anything happen to you if I can prevent it, bambina."
"You're going to spank me again, aren't you?"
"Will there ever be an end to it?"
"We're going to have this conversation again, aren't we?"
"Over and over for the rest of our lives," he assured her. "Spanking, loving, talking, and more loving."
"I'll get even."
"I'm counting on it," he smiled. "Gives me another chance to show you who's boss."
You could have heard a pin drop...
JC counted slowly. He gave her to "5" to explode.
"Bambina!" he laughed and pulled her close to hug the stuffin' out of her. "You are so predictable!"
"Predictable?" she sputtered against his chest. "Boss? What? I ought to..."
"You ought to tell me how much you love me," JC grinned, tightening his hold on her making sure her arms and legs were contained so that they didn't have access to his manhood. He knew she loved him but he also knew she wasn't above fighting back.
"How much do you love me?" he asked, his mouth at her throat.
"Too much. Way too much," she admitted and relaxed against him. "I let you get away with murder."
"Never too much, innamorata sweetheart," he smiled and loosened his hold on her.
Spencer wasn't born yesterday. She had been a "street" kid growing up. The moment she could move, she moved!
A punch to his throat... a punch to the soft part of his stomach... off his lap... a kick to his shin... She should have fled. But she took one last shot... a small fist to the side of his head.
V-e-r-y big mistake...
Grabbing her wrist, he hauled her over his lap and raised the temperature of her bottom cheeks to incendiary. Her sweats dangled at her ankles, her head almost touched the floor and her butt was so hot it made the blazing fire in the hearth pale in comparison.
"How much do you love me?" he asked when he pulled her up into his arms and kissed the salty tears that lingered after she was calm again.
"Too much," she whispered.
"So much that you'll accept that I'm boss?" he teased, his voice still husky with desire despite her attempt to subdue him. His hands stroked her heat, his lips roamed over her face... down to her throat, across one shoulder, over her breasts...
"You better love me more than I love you," she told him. "You better make love to me more often than you spank me, too. And furthermore..."
"Furthermore," he finished for her, cupping her hot bottom. "I love you more than I have words. I'm going to spank you whenever you deserve it and I'm going to make love to you like our lives depended on it. And they do."
And he did... and still does.