by Vonna Harper
The room held just enough furniture to keep it from looking unused. There was a double bed with a single blanket on it, a small dresser, a straight chair with wooden arms, one window with a view of the hills. A slightly ajar door led to a bathroom.
“Because there’s an office near the living room, I don’t need to set up anything in here,” he said.
“I checked. You keep the office door locked.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Not that it’s your concern, but it’s where we store files on everything associated with New Undine. We have records of each battle, who is currently in charge both here and at New Undine. Vital personnel information.”
A faint clicking sound told her he’d locked the two of them in this space. Swallowing was hard. She’d be damned if she’d let him see her face until she’d pulled herself together.
“The personnel files are vital to me and the others associated with Escape,” he continued. “Without them I wouldn’t know what Andy has been through, why he can’t be trusted.”
Chapter Ten
She faced him, finding energy and patience in his eyes. Does he realize sexual power radiates out from him? Most likely. “Are you going to tell me?”
“The relevant part. Andy’s troop was ambushed a couple of months ago. The attack came at night. There were only two casualties but one was a close friend. Andy fought to keep his friend alive, was holding him when he died.”
“Oh my God.”
“He went looking for the responsible party. He swore he’d kill him, make the dying last a long time. He found the person he believed he was looking for, but he was wrong. He zeroed in on an older woman who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Thankfully he was stopped before it was too late, but she spent a couple of weeks in the hospital. I met with her. I doubt if she’ll ever mentally be the same. Andy refuses to talk about what he did.”
“My God.”
“He’s dynamite waiting to go off. A kid on the outside, a disaster beneath the surface.”
Banner’s tone left no doubt of his conflicted feelings where Andy was concerned. Needing to know whether he felt more anger, pity or empathy, she tried to come up with a question. He started taking off his belt.
“No,” she whispered.
“Yes. To ensure you never forget how close a soldier might be to exploding.” He pulled the belt out of the loops. “To always put your personal safety first, to know better than to ever trust what you think you’re seeing.”
His eyes had captured shadows she could only guess at. He was trying to hide something from her. So far he’d succeeded. She didn’t mind the secrecy. It added to his mystique and pulled her closer to his dangerous web.
“You could have just spelled out what you know about Andy,” she managed. “It would have made an impact. It did.”
“Everyone who comes here is messed up.”
“I get it.”
He rubbed his forehead then lowered his hand, revealing something about himself as he did. She wondered if he knew. “You’re stalling.”
She didn’t see it that way but didn’t want to try to explain anything to Banner. He was dominant and determined. Maybe as messed up as those he was trying to help. Her throat again threatened to close down, forcing her to massage it.
“Off with your clothes. Every piece this time.”
“No. You can’t—”
“Strip. Now.”
The order stopped her in mid-shudder. He held the belt in one hand while stroking it with the other. His movements were slow and easy as if he were in love with what he intended to use on her. Her mind only partly on what she was doing, she kicked out of her tennis shoes. Her jeans came next, her hands steady as she unsnapped and lowered. She was acutely aware of how the denim felt on her skin. She wiggled until her jeans lay at her feet, then stepped out of them.
He stopped fingering the belt and turned so they were face to face. Keeping her head up, she pulled her T-shirt over her head and dropped it on top of what she’d discarded. She’d worn a bra, a simple white thing designed to secure her breasts on a physically active day. Reaching behind her, she fumbled a little. As many times as she’d done this, it shouldn’t need conscious thought.
Closely watching his expression, she pulled the bra away from her breasts and tossed it onto the bed. Her nipples tightened. Her body had come to life, might turn wild.
“I suppose I could try to explain their condition,” she said, “but I’m not going to. Read whatever you want into this.” She rubbed the tips. The gesture made her pussy tighten. She stopped then started again. She’d grab what pleasure she could before pain took over.
“You shouldn’t be cold.” He sounded like he was discussing the weather. “Maybe you’re scared.”
No, I’m not. “I don’t want to be spanked. That goes without saying, but I won’t beg.”
“Are you sure you don’t want this?” He held up the belt. “Maybe you deliberately tried to make me mad.”
If his intention was to start an argument, he was going at it the wrong way.
“Decide what you want to. Do your job. I’ll do mine.”
Despite his frown, he didn’t ask her to explain. When he continued to study her, she concluded he was waiting her out, maybe testing the limits of his patience.
Her body knew what a spanking would do to it. Her breasts ached in anticipation while her pussy— She couldn’t remember ever feeling this turned on without foreplay. She enjoyed sex and loved the moment of release, but this was different, more.
Was she a pain slut?
Stifling what would have sounded like a crazy woman’s laugh, she ran a finger under her panties’ elastic. She’d bought a black and a red pair of bikini panties after having too much to drink, but hardly ever wore them. Had she chosen the red pair this morning because she’d hoped they’d be on display?
“Gift from a boyfriend?” he asked.
“Could be.”
“Yes or no?”
“That’s for you to figure out.”
“The hell I will. This isn’t a game.”
No, it isn’t. Refusing to analyze or acknowledge what she was doing, she slid a hand down her belly and swiped between her legs. Warm moisture coated her fingers. She left some on her panties and more on her inner thigh. Eyes nearly closed, she finished stripping. Her thoughts swirled. Splintered.
“Come here,” he commanded.
Wrapped in sensation of her own making, she obeyed. She made a show of keeping her arms at her sides and didn’t look at him. She felt a little drunk, more than tipsy but less than smashed. It was a great place to be.
He draped the belt over her shoulder, closed a broad hand over her hip and rammed his other hand between her legs. Whimpering under her breath, she waited. He stroked her a second time, slower, the contact firm.
“That isn’t fear,” he said.
“Can you be sure?”
“You could lie. Tell me whatever you think might put you in a position of power.”
“I’m not much of a liar.” In search of a breeze to cool her cheeks and throat, she turned her head toward the window. “Whether I get away with anything depends on how perceptive you are.”
“Not perceptive so much as cynical and suspicious.”
Keep him talking. Put off the inevitable. “Do you regret being like that?”
“Sometimes, but there isn’t much I can do about it.”
“I feel the same way.”
“Life’s lessons,” he said after a beat.
“Of course.”
There’d been a truce of sorts between them, but it was dying. He had a goal that deeply involved her.
The longer she stood there, the weaker her already compromised resolve became. Before he was done, he might know everything about her. He’d take her down, turn her into an animal.
Animals didn’t need much. Warmth and full bellies. A safe place to sleep. Sex, although animals didn’t see it like human
s did. The moment the deed was done animals went back to eating, sleeping or trying to survive. She felt sorry for them.
“Brace yourself against the chair and lean over.”
What chair? she almost asked before her vision cleared enough so she could see what he was talking about. He’d coated her pubic hair with her fluids as she’d pondered the differences between animal and human.
Feeling divorced from her body, she set herself to doing as he’d ordered, beginning with handing him the belt. After a few false starts, she rested her forearms along the chair’s arms, bent low at the waist and locked her knees. Her mind painted a vivid picture of how she looked with her ass sticking up. She was giving him permission to do whatever he wanted with it.
“Focus,” he said, not that she could do anything else. “Keep your mind clear.”
She closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of their bodies. This room was the sum and substance of her existence. He orchestrated everything that happened in it. Her limbs shook and her head had become heavy. She counted her breaths to mark the seconds devoted to anticipation. She wanted to be hurt.
She also wanted to flee.
Soft leather made a sharp connection with her left ass cheek. Although she started and sucked in a quick breath, he hadn’t hurt her. The lesson in discipline had begun.
The belt landed again, seemingly alive, a creature attacking. Gripping the chair arms with widespread fingers, she imagined his arm rising and falling. There was a rhythm to what he was doing, measured blows touching flesh before digging deep. She couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
“Tell me,” he said as he struck her right cheek. “Why is this happening?”
“Because you want it to.”
He chuckled. “You’re right. I want to punish you.”
Hiding behind silence, she tried to pull herself back together between blows. She didn’t believe he’d cut her but didn’t trust that he wouldn’t cross over that line at some point. The rhythmic strikes were proof of his self-control, for now.
“You’re right,” he said. “I intend to spank you. And I will, whenever I want.”
“Want? What about need?”
“That too.” One, two, then three blows landed.
The latest attacks had been harder, quicker than the earlier ones. When she tried to look behind her, he pressed down on the back of her neck with so much force that she nearly lost her balance.
“Don’t ever take anything about me for granted.”
He didn’t want her digging around inside his mind. As long as he was in control, she wouldn’t. Instead she’d weather the blows. Storm-like sensations claimed her. It became hard to breathe. Gasps escaped her.
“I’m making progress.” A harsh blow landed on her outer right thigh.
Cursing, she struggled to move away while still holding on to the chair. The next strike sent fire along her left thigh.
“Damn!” She stumbled in the other direction. “God damn that hurts.”
“That’s the point of discipline.” He clamped his hands over her hips and forced her back into position. “Don’t move.”
“I can’t help it.”
“It’s either that or putting up with this for a long time.” The belt created a new line of fire, this one over her entire buttocks. “Discipline yourself.”
Crying, she fought to do as he’d commanded. Her legs were doing a crazed dance, her hips jerking from side to side. Pain became her world. Everything. He was attacking not just her ass but her entire being, a relentless force. Did he wonder if he might lose control, and if so, did he care? Maybe only turning her into what he’d determined she should be mattered. Her head pounded, her fingers cramped and her nose ran.
But that wasn’t all. There was something else, erotic sensations nearly as overwhelming as the discomfort. The responses seemed to feed off each other. If only she could run away from her body.
Did she want to?
Eyes open but unfocused, she struggled to fill her lungs. She kept making keening sounds.
“What’s that?” he demanded. “Listen to yourself.”
She did, growing more and more alarmed as the sounds she made continued. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried. The groans came from deep and low inside her, moans and sighs rolling together. She felt alive in a wondrous way, a base creature.
Shit. She was turned on. Animal-like.
After treating her to several more rapid-fire swats, he draped the belt over the back of her neck and took hold of her ass cheeks. Sweat dug in where the belt had landed. The stinging sensation increased, robbing her of the ability to focus on her arousal.
“You don’t know me,” she whispered.
“Oh yes I do.”
“No.” The word drifted away.
“Don’t lie.”
He spread her labia and sent a finger into her. She sighed as the sense of fullness increased.
“I’ve distracted you,” he announced. “Don’t say I haven’t.”
“I won’t.”
“Trying to be honest, are you? There isn’t much difference between that and obedience.”
Much as she wanted to insist that she was all about obeying, she couldn’t lie. She likened herself to a mare in need of training at the hands of an experienced horseman.
His finger remained in her. He was a potent man intent on claiming what he believed he had a right to. No matter how much she wanted to insist he was wrong, she couldn’t stop her inner muscles from tightening around him. She couldn’t make him leave. Couldn’t take herself back. Hell, she had no idea where she’d gone.
“You’re wet,” he said.
I can’t help it. “Do you expect me to say something?”
“Maybe at some point. For now, this is enough.”
His finger was a mix of magic and challenge. He went deep, stayed for a long time then pulled out. She ceased trying to be quiet, couldn’t command her pussy to stop playing his game.
“Please,” she moaned.
“Begging, are you?”
“I—don’t know.”
“Is there anything you’re sure of? I’m hoping this, your second lesson, will stick, but if it doesn’t…”
He touched a particularly sensitive spot on her buttocks. Despite her whimper, pain wasn’t the only thing she felt. This was nothing less than proof of his total command.
“There comes a time,” he said, “when continuing a lesson has diminishing returns.”
“Does it?”
“Let me give you a comparison. Once you’ve shown a horse that you’re in control, you give him time to ponder and absorb what he’s learned. You take him back to the pasture.”
Surely he wasn’t waiting for her to comment. Her spine ached from the unnatural position and she needed to bend her knees. More important, she longed to be alone with her thoughts.
And with her body. Her pussy. When she’d surrendered to him, he’d responded by wrapping her in discomfort. She couldn’t say when she’d return to the woman she’d been before he’d entered her life, if ever.
Why are you doing this to me? she wanted to ask, but she knew. Not only was he convinced she couldn’t safely do her job at Escape without his guidance, he enjoyed what he was doing.
“Are you done?” The question nearly stuck in her raw throat.
Chapter Eleven
When he didn’t respond she took a chance on straightening. Every muscle and bone protested. Confused by his continued silence, she faced him. She wished he’d taken a video so she could study what had happened. That might have been the only way she could make peace with herself.
He stood there like a statue, except for wiping his finger on his jeans. Thinking about what he was getting rid of distracted her from her throbbing ass but did nothing to lessen her arousal. Damn the man! She didn’t want to be turned on.
“You’ll be in daily contact with men who barely have it together,” he said. “Not acknowledging the potential for danger could kill you.”
>
“So you keep saying.”
When he opened his mouth, she held up her hand to hopefully silence him. “Believe me, I get where you’re coming from,” she said. “That isn’t all I’m focused on. I know what it’s like not to be able to take anything for granted.”
“One day you’ll tell me about that. Lay it all on the table.”
“Will you do the same?”
There was something hard and unforgiving about his chuckle. “You aren’t calling the shots. I am.”
“So you’ve made clear.”
She hadn’t intended for her words to carry much weight, but the longer they hung there, the more she needed to analyze what she’d said.
He was fully dressed and she completely naked. His cock was hard, but she had no doubt he wouldn’t let that distract him from the matter at hand. Despite the wipe, his finger still held proof of a weakness she hadn’t known she had until now. Punishment turned her on. Being spanked excited her. He’d exploit her vulnerability.
“I’m not ready for this to be over,” he finally said. “I’m tempted to give you another lesson regarding what I’ll allow, but I don’t want my enjoyment to get in the way of my mission. Spanking you—” A grin briefly lightened his expression. “How about we call it entertainment?”
“For you. You aren’t the one on the receiving end.”
“That will never happen.”
Wondering whether he intended that as a warning made it even harder to concentrate. Every time she let down her guard, messages from her abused body threatened to overwhelm her. What she wouldn’t give for a long bath that didn’t call for her sitting on her ass.
Maybe once she’d indulged herself, she’d no longer want to fuck him.
“More soldiers will be here by the end of the week,” he said. “I’m guessing some will be drawn to the animals because they represent the opposite of what they’ve been through. Your primary job is to facilitate that. Provide them with distraction from the hell inside them.”
“All right.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
