by Lana Lachlan
“Do you want me to smack your bottom?”
Placing her hands on her hips, she raised a defiant chin. “I dare you!”
“I want you on that stool now, Ophelia.”
Ophelia flipped up her tank top to taunt him. “Go ahead and spank me.”
“I want you to sit on the thing, not bend over it.”
Surprised, she sat down.
“Now do you see what I’m talking about?”
She stared sulkily out the window. “No.”
He blew a breath, paced the kitchen before returning to look down at her from his vast height. “You can’t separate the lawyer in you from the submissive. Just now, you not only expected me to spank you, you wanted me to spank you. You don’t see me as opposing counsel, you see me first and foremost as a Dominant who controls you and fucks you.”
She didn’t want him to be right, but she couldn’t deny it. Yet why should she give up her court case because her Dom told her to?
“I’ve worked hard for this. Sebastian Raynott is a criminal. He deserves to go to jail.”
“He does but he won’t.”
“He can’t get away with this…”
She stopped. Something stirred in Ophelia to push Jack into a reaction that had nothing to do with the case. “You’re still an asshole.”
His gaze momentarily darkened but he didn’t take the bait. “Go and get dressed. I’m taking you home. I advise you to get a good night’s sleep because tomorrow you’re going to find yourself another case to prosecute.”
With a shrug, Ophelia slid from her stool and walked away, swaying her hips to tempt him. Because even through her anger, she wanted to be in his arms again, needed his control. But Jack didn’t follow her.
By the time she’d dressed and collected her things, he had the front door open, car keys in hand. “Forget about Sebastian Raynott. That’s an order.”
Oh no, she wouldn’t. She’d put on her big girl pants and fight for her case.
Chapter 6
Jack left his feet on his desk while his PA showed Sebastian Raynott to a visitor’s chair.
“Stuck up bitch,” Raynott muttered after Tessa had poured his coffee and left with a soft click of the door.
Jack was tempted to smack his client in the mouth. “Watch it, Sebastian.”
Raynott sniffed. “I’m talking about Ophelia Tate. She started this whole thing, pushed that fool Nealand to prosecute when they were going to drop the charges. She went to every apartment in the building opposite Kelso’s to look for witnesses. That idiot Shaw was too scared to testify until she threatened him with a subpoena.”
At the outburst, Jack swung his feet from the desk. Raynott took everything personally, although this sounded extra-personal.
“Sebastian, you have a bigger problem to worry about than Ophelia Tate. In court, I can argue that you only intended to scare Kelso, but you fired off a round in plain sight. You couldn’t have picked a worse place to do your work.”
Raynott shrugged. “Kelso ran out there, tried to lock the slider on me.”
“You could be facing attempted murder.”
“The bastard’s been screwing my wife.”
“And she’s been screwing him back.”
“I love her, Jack.”
Jack took a breath to stop himself from calling his client a fool. “So what’s in the prenup?”
“She gets fifty million.”
Jack shook his head in disbelief. “You agreed to that much for a second wife? What if she plays around?”
Raynott shifted around in his chair, looking uncomfortable despite the plush leather. “She caught me banging my secretary, so I’m fucked on that one. The thing is, Jack, if I’m found guilty of a crime, she gets double and both townhouses.”
No wonder Raynott continued to forgive his wife’s indiscretions. It also explained Sebastian’s thing about Ophelia being the cause of his troubles. Jack hadn’t seen her in weeks and God knows he’d wanted to call her. He’d been acting as dungeon master at the Blue Cavern in an attempt to get her out of his system. It hadn’t worked. The girl with the brown eyes, dirty blonde hair and big panties was in his veins.
“I’ve had a tail on her since this morning.”
Jack rubbed his tight neck, annoyed at having to deal with Sebastian’s marital crap. “You should’ve done that before you married her.”
“I mean the girl.”
Jack launched to his feet in a blur of anger. “I’ve a good mind to break your goddamned neck, Sebastian. She’s off the case so leave her alone.”
Raynott sat back, startled. “She’s on the case, counselor.”
Jack didn’t believe it. “She can’t be, I’d know.”
Although it could be true. The court date had been set weeks ago and since then, he’d had no contact with the D.A.’s office. Ophelia might have convinced Nealand to put her back on as second chair.
“Call off your man, Sebastian.”
“He stays.”
Jack, halfway around his desk and fully prepared to drag all six feet, two inches of Raynott out of his chair and shake him like a rat, returned to his seat. This wasn’t the place or time to lose it. “If you go near her, I’ll see to it your own mother doesn’t recognize you. Then I’ll have you arrested for intimidating an officer of the court, namely Ophelia Tate.”
Evidently the threat worked as Sebastian’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “But you’re my attorney.”
“And as your attorney, I’m telling you to make the call.”
While Raynott reluctantly got his phone out, Jack pressed a concealed button under his desk to summon his PA. She appeared in five seconds flat. “Jack, you’re needed urgently in a meeting.”
“Thanks, Jasmine. Can you show Mr. Raynott out?”
Jack strode out before Sebastian could argue. He drove directly to Ophelia’s building. She must have seen him through her front door peephole because it took several knocks before she opened. In baggy sweats and slippers and wearing a scowl, she still managed to look good enough to eat.
“You’re not coming in here.”
Yep. Spitting mad. “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re off this case.”
Contempt glowed in her eyes. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
Jack strode past her to the living room, temporarily distracted by the size of her apartment. It could fit in his kitchen.
“Did you hear me, Jack Slayer? Get out.”
He turned his attention to the furious girl still holding open the door. With her pink face, she looked aroused. Wishful thinking on his part.
He got to the point. “Raynott’s had someone following you since this morning.”
She had her mouth open, probably to tell him to piss off but she closed it along with the door.
“This is serious, Ophelia. Fucking serious.”
She seemed to visibly deflate. Taking the few steps to the sofa, she sat down, staring up at him with shocked eyes.
Jack continued grimly, “Raynott’s about to lose it.”
She blinked. “He wouldn’t dare do anything to me.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
She moved to the alcove and began shifting things around on the tiny countertop as if trying to organize her thoughts. His chest clenched at her looking so spooked. His urge to protect her had brought him here and damn it he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.
He reached her in three strides. Sliding his arms around her from the back, he stilled her restless hands with his own. “Why didn’t you listen to me from the start?”
Her head went back and forth under his chin. “I didn’t think he was that bad.”
“From now on, you do what I say.”
“Yes, Jack,” she said submissively.
Now that he’d given her the talk, he should leave. Then again, if he’d been followed here, everything was fucked anyway. While he mentally debated, she nudged his crotch with her butt. Could be accidental, but he nudged back, deciding whether
to take down her sweats and spank her to arousal or do it the vanilla way. Vanilla won. Turning her, he kissed her, taking his time to explore her luscious mouth. She tasted of mint chocolate. He rarely kissed so passionately but with her it came easily. He didn’t know how long the kiss lasted but by the time their mouths had parted company, his erection was wedged painfully against his zipper and Ophelia had his belt buckle undone.
“Where’s the bed?” he croaked, shuddering at the feel of her hand sliding inside his briefs.
“The sofa folds down.”
Jack couldn’t wait for a bed to appear. Lifting her up, he sat her on the countertop and dragged her sweatpants off. Next came the big panties, blue ones with lace that he tossed over the knife block. She opened her legs to welcome him. Jack didn’t bother to check if she was wet enough. Not a problem it seemed, because he bottomed out on his first thrust, groaning at the hot bolt of pleasure shooting up his cock. Ophelia leaned back on her hands, lifted her hips and fucked him back. He heard something hit the floor with a bang, realized it was only an empty saucepan so kept going. This wouldn’t take long as her pussy had already tightened.
They went flying over the cliff together.
Still joined and with his suit pants around his ankles, he shuffled to the sofa. They sat—him on the sofa, her on his dick. She stripped off her sweatshirt and bra and removed the clip from her hair to release the jumble of dark blonde curls. After shifting herself around on his cock to get more comfortable, she began to pump him back to full mast. Jack left her to it, lost in the sight of her small body working his. And she was all work—riding him with long strokes while leaning forward to rub her clit against his shaft. Every so often she would lift herself free to scud the head along her sex before impaling herself again, but as she got close, she just pumped. Jack needed to distract himself with something other than her superb muscles or he’d come, and he wanted this to last. So he focused on her breasts, on the jut of her dark nipples against the pale, bobbing globes. They weren’t big globes, not much more than a mouthful. A mouthful of Ophelia was all a man needed.
“Oh, Jack, I’m coming.”
Jack’s head fell back, and he closed his eyes to experience her orgasm. He felt everything to the smallest detail—the muscles fluttering around his cock on the climb, the gradual tightening at the crest. Then the fierce clamp that had him straining to hold back his ejaculate. Only when the final frisson had left her small body and he was sure there was nothing more to feel, did he release his pent-up agony. His world exploded into a million stars while she held herself flush to his hips, milking him dry. Man, he’d missed her, missed the feel of her, missed the intimacy.
He opened his eyes to find her smiling at him. “Can I make supper for you, Mr. Slayer?”
Still shaking from his climax, he managed to smile back. “Sounds good, Ms. Tate.”
“I’ll wash up.”
She slid off him, grabbed her sweats and panties and disappeared through a doorway beside the alcove, emerging a few minutes later dressed and with her hair in a ponytail. Jack used the bathroom and returned to find her in the alcove.
“I hope you like Chinese,” she said, chopping furiously on a bunch of vegetables before tossing them into a wok. “Is rice okay?”
Jack was a steak man, but he guessed Ophelia only ate plants. “Fine.”
While she carried on, he inspected her tiny apartment, which took all of thirty seconds. Normally, he preferred neutral colors. This room was all colorful throws and cushions and wall hangings. Cozy and cute, all the same. Cozy and cute like Ophelia. And he noticed one thing in particular that might be useful later.
They ate at the coffee table, him on the sofa while she sat on a red beanbag with her plate balanced on her knees. He couldn’t fault the food although he had no idea what some of the vegetables were. When they’d finished, she took their plates to the alcove, made coffee and set the French press and cups on the table along with a bowl of chocolate mints.
“How can you defend Sebastian Raynott?”
Jack put down his coffee cup. “You’re a lawyer, Ophelia. Everyone deserves a defense no matter who they are or what they are accused of.”
“But why him when he’s dangerous.”
“Because I can keep an eye on him.”
Her lips tightened in irritation. “You’re going to get him off. Don’t you care?”
He didn’t want to get into it with her, especially with her big eyes looking at him accusingly. “I have to give him the best defense possible, so whether I care or not is irrelevant. Besides, Sebastian’s short fuse will eventually see him doing time, probably for threatening his wife’s next lover.”
Her eyes flashed with obstinance.. “I’m officially co-counsel again.”
“And I’ve said you’re off the case.”
She sniffed. “But what if…?”
“No ifs or buts or I’ll have to take action.’”
He saw the challenge in her eyes before it found her lips. “Will you spank me?”
The dominant in him stirred. Vanilla only went so far.
“I might. Have you done other bad things?”
She stuck her lower lip out in a charming pout. “I’ve had naughty thoughts.”
An interesting confession. “What kind?”
“I’ll have to show you.” On her feet and still pouting, she downed her sweats and offered her ass to him. “Does this explain it to you?”
God, he loved her impudence, but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t be punished for it. So much for trying to stay focused on Raynott. One cheeky remark and she had his blood up.
“Well, Jack?”
Jack had a strict ritual for his sessions. He initiated them no matter the circumstances. If a submissive tried to take the lead, she paid dearly. Shifting forward in his seat, he tapped a creamy buttock. “Naughty thoughts lead to kinky sex and what happens with kinky sex, Ophelia?”
He heard the shiver in her voice. “Discipline, sir.”
“Exactly. Bend over.”
Damn, he really needed to get serious with that inviting part of Ophelia’s anatomy. For the moment, he settled for a close look. “Mmm, not bad at all.”
Her brazen twerk to entice him earned her a sharp smack, instantly pinkening the white. When she tried to escape, he grabbed her hips. “Not so fast.” Sliding his hand around her hips, he explored. “Oh my, you are a turned-on girl.”
“That’s your cum.”
Her back talk had him burning to act. He never dwelled on why he sexually dominated. It was enough to know that he used discipline as a finely tuned instrument to give and take pleasure—the type of pleasure that conventional could never match. He enjoyed his regular sex, but it never came close to this decadence. With his reputation as a hard and accomplished Dominant, he had no shortage of submissives begging for his expertise. Now he had the most beguiling sub of all. And fuck he couldn’t resist her.
“Take off your clothes.”
As soon as she’d stripped, he jerked a thumb at his earlier discovery. “Fetch that wooden chair and place it in the middle of the room.”
Obediently she did, turning it this way and that until he was satisfied. “Now find me a suitable spanking tool.”
She bit her lip while she gazed with anxious eyes around the room. Finally she went to her alcove to dig in various drawers before returning with a wooden spatula.
He slapped it against his palm. Light, but up to the job. “Hmm, has an okay sound. What do you think?”
She shook her head adamantly, but he saw the desire in her eyes. “I want you to hold the back of the chair and present your ass for me.”
His cock twitched at the sight of Ophelia thrusting out her tight round buttocks. After weeks without her, he needed this spanking and Ophelia more than needed it. Even so, she looked so fragile, he might have relented if she hadn’t started twerking for his benefit again.
He traced the tool over her butt. “Because of your tease, I’m going to be ext
ra hard on you tonight and for the sake of the neighbors, you will bear my punishment without screams. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And keep in mind your safeword.”
“I promise.”
He didn’t hold out much hope she would.
“Spread your legs.” She inched her feet apart. He tapped the back of her calf. “Wider… no, wider.” He reached under to tug on her clit. “Well, what do we have here?”
He thought he heard her giggle, so he smacked her hard enough to elicit a muffled shriek. “You really are testing my patience.”
“Sir…”
Jack cut her off by striking her across both buttocks. Her spluttered cry was lost in the crack of his second snap. A few more in rapid succession and her cries plummeted to low moans. Already she wore the shadows of bruising and he was only getting started.
Needing the feel of hand on flesh, he gave her the spatula to hold and gave her several satisfying hand thwacks at close to full capacity. It lurched her forward and when she turned to look at him, Jack saw the unmistakable glow of her sexual high.
“I want you over the seat, counselor. Think of it as a second chair. A spanking second chair for pain sluts.”
Evidently relieved to be off her feet, she lay over the seat, palms flat to the floor. Taking the spatula from her hand, he traced the edge over the crimson roadmap he’d made. Ophelia would feel those branding marks for days and every time she sat down or pulled on her panties, she’d get turned on by the memory of how they got there.
He resumed his work. Precise blows that pleased him as much as it did Ophelia’s sobbing need for the hurt. He could see the telltale glistening on the inside of her thighs and from her shaking, she was close to coming on the pain alone. Jack tormented her by sliding the handle along her labia. The brat tried to grind on it.
He stopped abruptly. “Don’t you dare self-pleasure unless I say so.”
“Please…”
“Stand up, you naughty girl.”
She stumbled upright, eyes pleading.
“Get the bed ready.”
Ophelia had the sofa folded down in less than twenty seconds. Scrambling on to the pink sheets, she got on all fours, ass in the air. Jack felt the heat in his groin. Only Ophelia could restock his balls in record time.
