by Piper Stone
I couldn’t even fight them, as if I’d come to accept what he believed to be the inevitable.
Get answers. Get the freaking answers. Don’t back down.
I could hear the captain’s voice inside my head, pushing me harder.
“Undress,” he commanded, his look stern. “You’re getting one harsh punishment.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Oh, it’s very fair. I suggest you do it yourself. If I have to remove your clothes, there’s going to be little left of them.”
I glared at him, a combination of dread mixing with another round of hatred not only for the man but also from the job I’d been tasked to perform. There were far too many emotional thoughts, an unbridled level of hunger that continued to unravel my senses. I bit my lip as he wasted no time walking toward one of the cabinets in the room, waiting until he slowly opened the drawer.
“As I’ve told you before, you’re the kind of woman who learns from her mistakes, but only after much needed guidance.”
The bastard had pulled out some kind of implement. I knew it in my gut. A brand new boat and he’d taken the time to deck it out with all his little goodies. There was a rush of excitement tearing through me, the unexpected yet dazzling sensations even more jarring than they’d been before. The thought of actually wanting this, not just tolerating it was enough to crush what little bit of reality was left.
Play the game. Play the damn game.
Only I wasn’t certain I was playing at anything any longer. The dichotomy of wanting to obey while also remembering the exact reason I was there adding to the discomfort.
But as I’d done before, I obeyed him, taking a quick glance at the covered windows before unfastening my jeans. He had a way of making me feel like the most mischievous girl and one who required discipline every day.
A nervous laugh threatened to slip past my lips, the kind that I knew would only garner me additional minutes of punishment. To him, this wasn’t fun and games. He was serious about attempting to teach me a lesson about danger.
And about rules.
I shifted away from him, refusing to watch as he made his final selection. Even the act of lowering my head seemed like a level of respect that Gregory didn’t deserve, yet I was willing to give him. I bit back a moan, trying to concentrate on encouraging my numb fingers to work as I struggled to yank down the zipper. Closing my eyes, I merely shut down all thoughts and performed the task as demanded.
As I pulled away the dense material, tugging the tight jeans over my hips, I shifted my mind into a neutral zone. I was no longer anything but the girl he was going to punish. Undulating my hips, I could hear my ragged breathing as I slowly lowered them down my thighs, remembering to kick off my shoes before I fell smack on my face.
Another laugh threatened to take over as I kicked my jeans aside, shuddering the entire time I yanked the shirt over my head. I could hear his ragged breathing, could almost feel his hot breath cascading across my skin.
Whoosh.
The slight sound was enough to draw my attention, the sight of a long cane positioned in his hand giving me heart palpitations. There was also something else.
A collar and a leash.
Holy fuck. He’d been serious.
My breath seemed to be cut short, a slight wheezing pushing past my lips as I stared at all three items while he twisted the damn cane in his hand. When he snapped his wrist again, the cane slicing through the air, I actually jumped.
I’d chased perpetrators down the alley of a brutal drug dealer’s territory without question, yet I remained fearful of the tiny little piece of wood.
The one that would further mark my backside.
The one that would no doubt cause sheer agony.
Some bigshot detective I was.
I concentrated on his muscular forearms as I finished undressing, refusing to acknowledge to myself that I stood completely naked in front of him. He stood with his legs apart, his expression indicating utter disappointment. I shouldn’t give a shit. Why the hell did I care whether I pleased him or not?
His stare was the same as before, a hungry predator lying in wait, a sophisticated man who truly believed he owned a portion of me.
If not all.
His possession.
No, I’d become his obsession, his dark needs overshadowing his usual tolerance for a lonely life.
As he pointed toward the couch, I found myself taking baby steps closer. Even though I tried to hold my head high, I’d fallen into the role of a bad girl who needed punishment. The entire situation was disorienting, pushing me further away from all rational thoughts.
“Lean over the back of the couch,” he instructed, his tone deep and sensual.
While I obeyed him, I fisted my hands, a lump forming in my throat. As I leaned over, I remembered about the plug and clenched my buttocks. Another reason for him to punish me.
Another reason for him to fuck me.
Closing my eyes, I gripped the back of the couch, digging my nails into the soft leather as I took a series of deep breaths. I had the feeling this was going to be extremely painful.
Gregory dragged his fingers all the way down my spine, exhaling in an exaggerated manner before tapping first one side of my bottom then the other. While he didn’t make note of my disobedience, he’d obviously noticed.
“I can’t protect you if you don’t listen to me,” he said calmly, now almost no inflection in his tone. “Tonight’s spanking is going to be stern. You need to learn one way or the other. And when we’re finished, we are going to have a nice, long chat. You obviously know more than you’re letting on and I’m finished with the round of cat and mouse.”
I held my breath, trying to steady my heartrate as well as keep my mouth shut. It certainly wasn’t going to do me any good to spout off. He was determined to teach me a lesson and one I’d never forget.
When he shifted his hand between my legs, cupping my mound, I couldn’t hold back the scattered whimper. I was so damn wet, the scent of my pussy wafting up to my nose. I remained confused at being so aroused when the torment I was about to receive would be painful as hell. Yet even my nipples were hard as tiny pebbles, both breasts aching to be squeezed, my nipples pinched and twisted.
“Do you know how much I crave your body?” he asked as he tapped the cane against my outer thigh.
“No, sir.” Although I could tell, his cock having remained hard the majority of the night. Even the way I’d teased him at dinner, forcing him to eat crab from my hand, had kept him turned on. I noticed as he eased the leash over the back of the couch only inches away then fisted my hair, yanking until my head was upright. When he positioned the cane standing up then slipped the collar in front of my face, I let off a slight whimper. There was a gold tag dangling from the edge.
One with my name on it.
The wrong name.
The pretend name.
My entire body was trembling, so aroused that it became difficult to breathe.
“I hunger to feast on every inch,” he whispered in a demanding tone, his words laced with a hint of evil. “I want you naked and by my side all hours of the day and night, curling by my legs and waiting for my every command. Isn’t that something you crave, Valentina?”
I found myself unable to keep from answering. “Yes...”
“Mmm... I’ve dreamt about having you in this collar, making certain everyone knew that I was your owner. What you haven’t accepted yet is the moment you set foot inside my club, you already belonged to me. Mine to discipline. Mine to enslave. Mine to fuck. Now, you’re going to wear my collar and one day, you’ll sleep beside my bed in a cage.”
Whether or not he was saying the words to startle or excite me no longer mattered. I was more elated than ever before, jolts of electricity rocketing through every cell and muscle.
“Hold your hair out of the way for me, my pet,” he instructed, waiting until I’d gathered the long strands into my hands, my fingers shaking as I tugged them over
my head. “That’s a good girl.”
I fell into a surreal state as he positioned the leather around my neck, buckling it into place. The cool leather was surprisingly comfortable, even though I took several deep breaths out of fear I would no longer be able to breathe.
“Very nice. It suits you perfectly,” he muttered then fingered the metal tag, flicking it back and forth in an aimless pattern.
“Thank you, sir.” I was shocked I answered or was thanking him. Why couldn’t I pull out of this... this... A moment of raw fear flushed through my system as he slipped the tip of his finger along the edge then down my spine. I moved my hands away, once again positioning my upper body over the couch.
“As with bad little girls, pets much be punished as necessary. You ran away. You deserve harsh punishment and to be caged. We’ll certain make one of those things happen tonight. The rest will come when I deem appropriate, but make no mistake, you are mine. Every. Single. Inch.”
His words were even more powerful tonight than before, as if I was required to finally take them seriously. As if I’d given up my very soul to a man I barely knew.
Yet one I was falling harder for with every crazy second we were together.
“Keep your eyes on the leash, my pet. By the way, I’m adding another fifteen lashes because you disobeyed your master again. You’re not wearing your plug. I assure you that I have several of them. Since you broke yet another rule, I’m going to use a much larger one. Do not cross me again, Valentina, or your punishment will be much more severe.”
When he wrapped his hand around the cane, I bit back another moan. I couldn’t believe this was happening or that I was enjoying every second. I was lightheaded, my body swaying as the anxiety increased.
The whooshing sound seemed to take time, allowing my entire body to bristle in anticipation. When the cane was brought across both ass cheeks, I clenched my bottom, sucking in my breath as the wooden piece made contact. What shocked me the most was that I felt no initial pain. Nothing. How could that be?
When he brought the cane down three times in rapid succession, only then did I feel the first inkling of discomfort. The next two? Every cell in my body seemed to explode, a firestorm raging through every inch.
“Oh, God. Oh. Oh. Oh!” I couldn’t hold back my cries, panting as I dropped my head. Stars imploded in front of my eyes, vibrant in color and dancing in patterns. My God. How could anything hurt like this?
“This is what bad girls receive when they are so disobedient,” he growled then delivered three more.
All I could concentrate on was the snapping sound of his wrist as well as the way the leash drew me in, the thick leather studded with some kind of jewels. I held my breath, waiting for the next round, shivering even more than I’d done before.
“The cane can be a very useful tool,” Gregory stated before sliding the tip down my back then tapping it from the inside of one thigh to the other. “Open your legs wider for me, my pet.”
While I did as I was told, I was unable to stop a series of whimpers from rushing past my lips. The next moment he repeated the action, smacking with enough force that I couldn’t stop quivering. When he drew it between my pussy lips, I sucked in my breath, throwing back my head, my mouth open.
But there was no sound.
“Just imagine if I caned that cute little butt hole of yours.” Gregory let out a long exhale then cracked the cane across my bottom again.
The heat rising from my skin was incredible, the pain exploding into the more intense combination of agony and ecstasy. Nothing made sense any longer as he whipped me, taking his time as he brought the reed down over and over again.
I had no way of knowing the round of discipline was finished until he reached for the leash. I tried to keep my head straight, swallowing several times as he attached the one clamp to another.
“Turn around, my pet. We’re going to have a long talk.” He pulled the leash around me, holding onto the end as I curled against the back of the leather, cognizant that he remained fully dressed while I was completely naked. “Stay right there. I’ll get us both a scotch.”
I watched him as he moved toward the bar, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. My bottom was on fire even though my skin tingled all over. He seemed less tense, as if disciplining me had taken all the rage out of him. I could even see that he was relaxed, almost happy.
I didn’t want to smile or to find any enjoyment out of this entire situation, but I did. Never in my life had I been this comfortable with a man. The irony was weird... perhaps disgusting on so many levels. Certainly unexplainable.
My God, the man was even humming as he plopped ice into two glasses, yanking a bottle of scotch from his collection.
I turned away, running my index finger up and down the length of the leash, shuddering from the thought alone. Caged. A pet. A collar. Was this really something that I could tolerate?
Holy crap.
This wasn’t some kinky romance.
This was a criminal case.
Or was it? The nagging continued, the details of everything I knew looping together in one big file of information that I couldn’t make heads or tails of.
What continued to nag me was a strong feeling that someone was out to get Gregory, not just the club. I was determined to find out the reason why.
As he walked closer, he swirled both glasses, his eyes even more captivating than before. I could swear his pupils were completely dilated, lust dripping from both.
When he eased down onto the chair beside me, he placed both glasses on the table then looped his hand through the rounded end of the leash.
Completely possessive.
I held my breath, only taking a sip after he’d done so. “What do you want to talk about?”
“You still don’t trust me.” He swirled the ice several times, his eyes never leaving mine.
The statement was leading, another manipulative technique. I thought about how to answer it, although a huge part of me wanted nothing more than to continue with our fun conversations from dinner. I had to remind myself that we would never be normal, and this would never turn into a relationship.
This was a job.
“I do trust you, Gregory, probably more than I should. Although you continue to push me, as if you’re trying to still figure out if you can trust me.”
“My world has complications, enemies I can’t seem to find. I’ve already mentioned that trust is very difficult in my line of work.”
“And you and I know that your distrust has everything to do with your past,” I countered. This time, he didn’t bristle.
He merely laughed, lifting his glass as if in appreciation of my tenacity.
“You were so dead set that I was your enemy. Now, you believe it’s someone else?”
“You are my enemy, Valentina. I’ve known that since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he stated without hesitation as he leaned over, his oppressive body language creating a more intense fire burning deep within.
“Why, because you believe me to be something I’m not?” Every synapse in my brain was going off like a bottle rocket.
“No,” he huffed as he tugged on the leash.
“Then what?” I demanded, realizing I was pushing my luck.
A man like Gregory never seemed to hesitate. He always seemed to know exactly what he needed to do. But as he looked at me, his eyes as black as night, his resolve seemed fractured.
“Why?” I asked again.
“Because I can’t seem to let you go. Because you’ve ripped at the seams of my very soul. And because I refuse to let anything happen to you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
As he yanked me by the arm, dragging me closer, he lowered his head. “While that may be true, the danger is very real. If there is something you need to tell me, I suggest you do it.”
I could see the combination of anger and concern in his eyes, could tell by his body language that he was even more explosive than before. Every aspect o
f my training hinged on continuing the lie.
Pretending I was something I wasn’t.
But I couldn’t do it any longer.
“You’re right. Someone is out to get you.” My words were stilted, my throat clenching. I expected him to retaliate, to place the barrel of his gun in my face.
He inhaled, rearing back as his eyes darted back and forth across mine. A light smile crossed his face. One of knowing. One for the victor of a game. “Talk to me. Tell me the truth, Valentina. Why the fuck did you surface at my club, pretending to be something you’re not? Given everything I’ve been through, it’s easy to recognize someone who is fabricating stories. While I give a damn about you, I won’t hesitate to end your life if you continue lying.”
“I can’t afford to lie, Gregory.” Adding another fabrication seemed like the only thing I could do.
“Then how do you know that someone is out to get me, as you put it? Besides, why would this be personal?” He eased back, taking several deep breaths.
“Because of the way you’re acting. Because I hear things, scuttlebutt within the club. Because you watch every single person in that club like a hawk.”
“My father’s legacy,” he huffed. “I know what’s at stake.”
“At stake. You need to let go of the past. But are you certain this has everything to do with your father?” When he hesitated, fingering the leash, I wanted nothing more than to retreat.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, your father is dead. Whatever occurred during his tenure is entirely different. You need to find out why someone either wants to bring up the past or is determined to make you and your brothers pay for sins that you might not have had anything to do with.”
Chuckling, he lifted his glass. “A fascinating look at something you know nothing about, but I can tell you that your questions are far too intrusive for just a dancer.”
He’d used the phrase against me. “I might just be a dancer, but I’m also very observant. There isn’t a long-term employee who hasn’t whispered about the Dunmore power, the fact you seem to hold the balls of so many men in your hands. Or the fact you seem to be the one who wants to squeeze, perhaps regaining whatever additional influence your father had. Was he such a horrible man that he created a legacy of enemies for his own sons? Why would a man do that? Why would he place a noose around his sons’ necks?”
