She was an addiction, and he’d decided, just for the night, to fall off the wagon.
“I like the way those jeans keep your legs together. They make a good binding.” He picked her up and moved her to the desk. “Lean over, put your hands out, chest against the desk, ass in the air. I owe you some discipline, love.”
Discipline. Even saying the word made his cock jump. Saying the word while he contemplated Jennifer’s gorgeous ass had his breath ragged. He had to remember to stay in control.
She did as he asked, sliding seductively against the desk. Her eyes were hot as she craned her neck to look up at him. “Is that all you owe me, Sir?”
He brought the ruler down on her perfect ass. A pretty line of pink formed, and her flesh quivered. He owed her so much more than a little spanking. “What else do you want, Jennifer? What else should I give a bratty little submissive who obviously doesn’t know her place?”
A couple of hours at his feet might start to satisfy the Dom in him.
She could kneel at his feet in the studio while he worked. When he needed to relax, he’d open his pants, and she would suck his cock.
Otherwise, she would sit there, and he could stroke her while he worked.
A slow smile crossed her face, like a cat who had just found the most perfect cream. “Where’s my place, Stef?” Beside him, underneath him, with him always. But he would never let her know that. He wanted something she couldn’t give him.
He wanted something that it wasn’t fair for him to ask of her. He was a selfish bastard. If he had his way, she wouldn’t have a career at all, and she was far too talented for that. Tonight was all he could allow himself. “This is your place, Jennifer. Right here. Right now. Bound and waiting for me.”
He brought the ruler down in short arcs, spreading the spanking all across her gorgeous ass. He counted in his head because he didn’t want to hear the sound of his voice. He preferred the breathy, desperate gasps and little moans that escaped her lips. She was trying so hard to hold still for him. Her chest hitched, and her ass swayed as though anticipating the next stroke. He slowed down after stroke number five. Anticipation was part of the game.
Her skin was pink and perfect. No welts, just a nice, hot color. By the time he reached eight, her head was pressed to the desk and not a single snappy remark had come out of her mouth. She simply whimpered, and the sound went straight to his cock.
“I didn’t like that rancher’s hand on your ass, love,” he explained as he put his own hand on her warm flesh.
“Yes, Stef,” she said, a dreamy quality to her voice.
She was so submissive when it came to this. She would rail and rage at him outside of sex, but she was a little kitten when he got her pants off. The combination was intoxicating. “No more ranchers. He wouldn’t understand you anyway.”
“Yes, Stef.”
That’s what he wanted. Yes, Stef. Just yes.
His hand moved up and down, the ruler snapping back after each tap. He rained down on her until he was perfectly satisfied that she was on the edge. Her breathing was choppy, and she was trying to clutch the front of Zane’s desk with her bound hands.
Stef stopped. What was he doing? He’d lost count. He wasn’t sure how many he’d given her. Damn it. He never lost count. He was shaking as much as she was, his breath sputtering in and out of his chest. He’d come close to losing control. He could have hurt her. He hadn’t even talked about her safe word. Had he hurt her?
“Are you okay?” he heard himself ask, though he was afraid of her answer.
“No, damn it. I am not okay.” She pounded her bound hands on the desk.
His heart felt like it would fall out. This was just one of the reasons he’d stayed away from her. He couldn’t keep himself in check around her.
Jen made no attempt to get up. She wiggled her ass, pressing her legs even closer together. “Look what you did. I ache, Stef. I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me, I’ll hate you for life.” The way she moved had her pussy on full display. He felt his mouth fall open as he caught sight of her wet lips. She was swollen and so wet she glistened in the low light. His hands came out. He put his left hand on her hips, steadying her, while his right hand slid through her juices. He was fascinated by the way his hand looked against her soft, pink flesh. It was a gorgeous coral color, but the juice gave it a sheen he’d love to capture on a canvas. If she were his submissive, he’d order her to spread her legs so he could paint her. He would look at her pussy until he could get its perfection just right.
Georgia O’Keefe would have nothing on him. Jennifer’s pussy really was a flower opening up for him.
She sighed, her body relaxing as though she was finally getting some much-needed relief. “Yes, that’s much better than what Mildred did to me.”
He couldn’t help his chuckle. Her humor always brought him back to earth. Sometimes he lost himself, but she knew how to bring him back. It was good to know he pleased her more than some guard from the county lockup. He let a single finger circle her clit. “I take it Mildred wasn’t a skilled cavity searcher?” Her hips swayed, inviting him in to play. “I’m sure she’s really good at finding any drugs I might have shoved up my hoo ha, but all in all, I didn’t care for the experience. She definitely wasn’t as good at spanking me.”
His hand came straight out. “She hit you?”
“I was joking, Stef,” Jennifer said. “No one hit me, except you, and that was very erotic. I was neither sexually nor physically assaulted while in prison, as I told the good doctor. I’m fine. I’m of sound mind, and I would really like to have an orgasm.” He slapped his hand across her ass for teasing him. He’d been horrified at the thought of her in a cage at the mercy of guards. It wasn’t something to joke about. “You didn’t let Caleb look you over.
You simply walked out and didn’t even bother to leave a note telling me where you were going.”
Maybe he hadn’t spanked her enough. If they were at the guesthouse, he would tie her to the St. Andrew’s Cross and use a single tail on her.
“I was hungry,” she said, biting her lip, a sure sign that she was nervous. She would always nibble on that plump bottom lip when she was attempting to find the right thing to say. “I’m sorry, Stef. Next time I’ll let you know when I’m fleeing from the somewhat insane doctor you sic on me. Now, let’s get to the good part. Come on, I can see that you want me.”
He was sure she could. His cock was standing at full attention. His slacks were pressed out as far as the wool would go. Still, he had standards to uphold. “You’re not supposed to be in control of this.” But she was. He could see it. She’d herded him to this place. First, she’d left and sent him running around town to find her. Then, she’d waited in a bar, where it was inevitable she’d get hit on. This was what she wanted. She’d turned sweet and submissive because she’d changed tactics on how to get him to give her what she wanted. It worked so much better than the way she’d tried to deal with him before. She was much more dangerous this time around, and he’d thought she was fatal before.
Her face turned up, and all of the sauciness was gone now.
“Please, Stef. Don’t think. Just for tonight. We can go right back to circling each other warily in the morning, but I need you tonight. I need you so much, babe.”
Her words sliced through him. She’d been through hell, and she’d smiled all day. Stef felt his heart seize. She needed him. He needed her. Damn it.