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The heat radiated through her aching flesh and curled into her belly. He rubbed her gently, gliding over her skin in gentle circles. It was so soothing. Tension ebbed away, and, although the pain didn't lessen much, it was less important. His hand on her rump, down her thighs, against the lips of her pussy, was all that mattered.
    She gasped—this time with pleasure—as he slid two fingers through her folds. She was wet from her before-spanking excitement, and his sensual rubbing was making more moisture accumulate. How she could be in so much pain and be excited all at the same time, she didn't know, but she wasn't about to tear it apart at that moment. The tips of his fingers brushed her swollen clit and she jumped as a bolt of electricity shot through her.
    Moaning, she wriggled under his hand.
    "Easy, woman," he told her in Spanish. Hearing the language of her childhood, so lovingly spoken during an intimate moment coiled a spring in her belly.
    Two fingers entered her and she sighed with pleasure.
    "Your cock," she whispered. "Please."
    "Feelin' bossy?" There was a grin in his voice. He moved his fingers in and out, in the age-old motion, and the spring in her belly began to wind tighter and tighter. He had the key to release the pressure, but he was keeping it from her.
    "Dios, that feels good."
    As he withdrew his fingers, she whimpered. She wanted more. She was greedy with need. His zipper slid down and a she heard a wrapper being torn. A few moments later, hardness probed the entrance to her pussy.
    "Ah, sugar. I've missed you." Slowly, he entered her. It was impossible not to squirm and press back against him, trying to speed things up, to coax him deeper, but he swatted her stinging ass and warned her not to do that again. "Slow and easy."
    "No, Deuce. I want it hard and fast."
    He laughed, his motions calculated to drive her right through the roof. But eventually, when she couldn't stand waiting anymore, he picked up the pace. His strokes became deeper, harder. They came more rapidly, his cock barely reaching the opening of her pussy before he slammed home again.
    Pilar felt like an over-wound clock. Her cuckoos were going to come bursting out any minute to chime midnight. Slam, slam, slam, he drove her higher and higher until she balanced there, right on the precipice, exactly at the edge. Teetering, teetering, and then he swatted her one last time and the spring broke. She fell over the edge, spiraling down, her brain whirling in a kaleidoscope as she shuddered with release. Moaning his name, she panted as he pistoned a few more times into her and then came with a low growl.
    Two minutes passed, then three, and finally he stepped back and slid out of her. She collapsed on the bed, curling into a little, satisfied ball, all moist and warm.
    "No more deceit," he reminded her, and her sense of satisfaction slipped. He was sure to hate her on Friday, no matter how much he cared for her today.
    * * *
    "Daddy?"
    Deuce cringed; it always went this way. "Hi, Eddie. You shouldn't call me that."
    "You're like my daddy, right?" The little boy's voice was welcome, even if they did have the same conversation over and over again.
    "I'm not your daddy, buddy. Your daddy's name is Don."
    There was a childish sigh on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, I know. But I like you better."
    It brought a smile to his face to know that he'd made a positive impression on the boy in the two years his mother and he had lived with Deuce. Eddie was only seven, so he really didn't understand how people he cared about could part ways. Still, he had to learn that he couldn't make things true just by wishing. "You should be calling me Deuce. You remember that now, hear?"
    "Yes, sir."
    Deuce shifted in his office chair. He was working late at the office, but he always made time for Eddie. Stacy never discouraged the boy from calling, and, although it was sometimes inconvenient, Deuce didn't have the heart to end the relationship with Eddie in the