by Jane Henry
"Woman," he warned.
Tentatively, she took a fry and bit into it. Her eyes rolled back and she moaned. Shit. She shouldn't do that to him when he was getting stern with her. It affected his concentration.
She took another fry and ate it quickly, then picked up the burger and took a small bite, closing her eyes in utter bliss.
"This is delicious," she moaned. "Ohmigod I'm gonna gain a million pounds but this is gonna be worth it."
"Best burgers in Boston. And don't give me this diet shit," he said. "A burger isn't gonna kill you."
She frowned at him, but he could tell she was oddly pleased.
Club virgin or not, she liked being told what to do. He'd push it a little.
"You're not done until you've eaten at least half that burger," he announced. Her eyes widened. She took another bite.
"Good girl," he said, slowly and deliberately. Her breathing hitched. She swallowed another large bite of burger.
"Oh yeah?" she teased. Her voice had lowered, too, as she leaned forward. "Or what?" she asked innocently.
He gave her the 'behave yourself' look, but she continued to gaze at him speculatively.
"You don't eat your dinner, you won't get the ice cream I have in the freezer."
She gasped. "You'd deny me ice cream as punishment?"
He had a bottle of beer halfway to his lips as her words hung in the air. He grinned around the bottle and took a lazy swig, maintaining eye contact the whole time.
"If you were a naughty girl in need of being punished, then yes," he said evenly. "I would mete out the necessary discipline."
There was no mistaking it now. Her eyes lowered and her breathing was labored. Rubbing her sweaty palms on her yoga pants, she swallowed.
Now was as good a time as any.
He stood, in complete control of the situation. He stacked the trays together. As she stood to help him clean up, he shook his head. "Sit down," he ordered. "I've got this. You must be exhausted after that drive." She frowned.
"I can help," she insisted, reaching for the napkins.
"Ice cream," he growled.
She sat down, a pretty little pout forming on her lips. He barely stifled a chuckle.
"I'm going to finish cleaning up in here. You go get the ice cream, scoop some into a bowl and grab a spoon."
Her eyes widened. "One bowl?" she squeaked.
"One bowl."
"One spoon?" she asked incredulously.
"That's right."
It was all part of his plan.
"Did I not eat enough to earn my dessert?" she asked.
Shit. He'd give her dessert, all right.
He turned and smiled at her. "You did fine, honey," he said. "I'm the one not eating any ice cream."
She frowned. "Why not?"
He shrugged. "I'm on a diet."
She laughed out loud. Her laugh was lovely, unreserved and musical. He grinned at her as she scooped a generous portion of ice cream out. As she put the carton back in the freezer, he picked up the bowl and spoon, took her hand, and led her to the living room.
He loved the feeling of her hand in his.
"Sit down, Heidi," he instructed quietly. She obeyed, tucking her foot under her bottom and leaning back with a sigh of contentment.
"That burger was like eight billion times more satisfying than my mom's sesame tofu stir fry."
"I'd think cardboard sprinkled with salt would be more satisfying than sesame tofu stir fry."
She giggled. "Um, yeah." She reached her hand out for the bowl.
Oh, she was so innocent, it was adorable.
He smiled, but shook his head, as he sat down beside her, taking the bowl in his own hand.
"Do you like games, Heidi?" he asked.
"Um… like strip poker?" she responded. He chuckled.
"Sure, though I don't usually pull that out until at least date three. More like, twenty questions."
She shrugged, eyeing him warily, but the faint flush and deep breathing indicated he'd struck a nerve.
"Let's play a game," he continued. "I ask you a question and if you answer, I'll give you a bite of ice cream."
She bit her lip, smiling. "Okay," she whispered. "May I ask a question before we begin?"
"You may."
"When do I get to ask my questions?"
"You get to ask as many questions as you want, any time you want to." And he meant it. He would be honest and forthright, even if it meant she went home tonight and didn't come back. He would tell all, if it killed him.
She nodded, pleased at his response.
"That sounds fair," she whispered.
"You're a good girl," he whispered back. "Question one."
She nodded. His heart began to pound.
"The club Matteo mentioned. Do you have any idea of the kind of club he may be referring to?"
"I think so," she whispered, and squirmed. "Does this have anything to do with the catalog Princess found?"
He nodded. "Very good." He scooped a small bite of ice cream up and fed it to her. She opened her mouth, taking the spoon wholly in, and as he withdrew it, she licked it. His own breath hitched, and he felt himself growing hard. Fucking hell, he loved the control he had over her.
"Have you ever heard of a dominant, Heidi?" he asked, another bite of ice cream held precariously on a spoon in front of her.
She nodded, though her eyes flitted away this time.
"Eyes to me," he ordered.
Her eyes flew back to him. He loved how eager she was to obey.
"Good girl," he crooned. "That earns you two bites."
She clapped her hands like a little girl, licked the spoon again, and it nearly drove him mad.
"Third question. What are your thoughts on the BDSM scene?"
She took a deep breath. "That one deserves an ice cream sundae," she muttered. He chuckled.
"Answer the question, baby," he encouraged. She warmed to that, her eyes softening, shy even. Maybe a closet baby girl. He would find out, but that was for another day.
"All right. May I ask a question first?"
"Of course."
"Are you a dominant?"
He wasn't expecting her to be so blunt, but he wanted it all out.
"I am."
"Your club is a BDSM club?"
He nodded. "It is."
Her eyes widened and she breathed out. "Whoa."
"Answer the question, Heidi," he chided gently.
"Oh!" she said. "Um. I've read a few books. It sounds—well—" she twisted her hands in her lap. "Really hot," she whispered. "But some sounds freaky and I don't think I'm really that kinky and I have never been spanked in my entire life. My own parents were all into positive parenting and didn't even do time-outs and definitely not spanking or anything, but I've always kinda wondered… and I. Oh God. Well. You asked," she said, flushing. "I think it sounds hot and scary and exciting," she said all at once.
She was right.
That did deserve an ice cream sundae.
"Ice cream," she croaked, reminding him of his end of the bargain as if the ice cream would help her get through the ordeal. He hastened to scoop a bit out and spoon it back into her mouth, and after she swallowed that, he gave her another bite, and another, until the whole damn bowl was empty.
"You didn't eat any," she breathed, licking her lips.
"I can still taste it," he murmured, and before she could catch her breath, he had her in his arms, pulling her onto his lap so that she nestled against one arm, the bowl clattering to the floor forgotten, as he leaned in and took her pouty, adorable, sensual mouth with his own. She tasted so fucking good. He probed, her mouth still cool and creamy from the ice cream, and he heard her moan beneath him as she buckled beneath the heat of his kiss.
"Whoa," she said again, as they pulled away. "Are we still playing?"
He leaned back, as he cradled her against him. "We are," he agreed, still willing to answer any of her questions.
"Do you…" She blushe
d furiously. "I mean—if your—submissive, they call it?" He nodded, tracing a finger down the length of her shoulder that was once again bared to him. Her breathing grew ragged. "What do you do if your submissive disobeys you?" she said all at once. He chuckled. It was always the first thing a submissive wanted to know.
"Disobedience earns punishment," he explained calmly, aware of the fact that she likely knew this, but hearing him say it was something altogether different… dark, erotic, arousing.
She nodded, eyes wide. "I wish I had more ice cream," she whispered.
He chuckled. "Afraid?"
She nodded.
He held her against his chest, speaking softly into her ear. "Punishment is typically rare," he said. "And everything hinges on your consent."
"So, um… what kind of punishment are we talking about here?" she whispered, as his hand went further down, dipping past her shoulder and to the soft, full, lovely warmth of the skin underneath. The tops of his fingers grazed the top of one soft breast and she gasped, as his thumb moved slowly over her hardened nipple. "Are you… um… talking about no ice cream?" Her voice cracked, and her breath was shallow and labored.
"There are many options a dom has, honey," he said in a low tone. "Personally, I mostly prefer to give a naughty girl a spanking."
She moaned as his thumb circled lazily, her head falling heavily against his shoulder. "So you," she whispered, her eyes closed now as he continued to tease and caress, "just…" she gulped. "Take them over your lap."
He reached his hand to the other breast, teasing, as he answered slowly. "I've never taken a girl over my lap, no. Spanking over the lap is intimate. I've had them bend over desks, or mostly a bed, sometimes a chair or couch." Her eyes opened, and she nodded.
"What's it like?" she whispered.
"Getting spanked?" He kneaded her breast as she breathed heavily.
"Yes," she whispered.
He shrugged a shoulder. "Spankings hurt, but done right they can also be very, very sexy."
She bit her lip. "Do you use things—like, to—sp-spank with?" she whispered.
He nodded, then paused before he spoke. "I have, but it's not a requirement."
"Thank God," she whispered. He chuckled again.
"Those things can make the experience much more erotic," he explained.
"Um, like, what kinds of things? Do you… um, favor?"
He kept eye contact, his hand cupping her breast as he responded. "I tend to favor leather. A strap, or my belt, but I've used many different implements."
Her eyes widened.
"Please stop touching me," she whispered. He immediately withdrew his hand.
She blinked. "I'm sorry. I just… am having a hard time thinking clearly."
He smiled. "Understood. What else do you want to know?"
She bit her lip before speaking. "How does your submissive tell you she's had enough?"
"We have a safeword."
"A safeword?"
He nodded, finally doing what he'd wanted to do so long, running his fingers through her long, soft, gorgeous hair. He sighed. It felt so nice.
"A word we agree on ahead of time, so that if it gets to be too much, you can tell me to stop."
"Okay," she whispered. "So it's all contingent on consent?"
He arranged her on his lap, so she was facing him, his hands on her hips.
"Absolutely," he said with emphasis. "Always." Consent with some of his one-night-stands he'd picked up at The Club had been nebulous. With Heidi, it was imperative.
Her eyes widened. "Always?"
"Always," he promised.
She leaned forward and whispered in his ear.
"Then show me, Dom. Please. I want to know."
He had told the truth when he told her he'd never put a girl over his lap.
Until Heidi, he'd never wanted to.
But when she said, "Show me," he needed to know. What did she want to see?
"Show you what, honey?"
"I want to know what it's like to get spanked," she whispered. And that was all she needed to say. He swung her out, stretching her face down across his thighs as if it were the most natural thing in the world. God, she was gorgeous, and the position, her vulnerability, had him groaning out loud.
"Red, Heidi."
"Red?" she squeaked, her voice lightly muffled. She was squirming as he held her gently in place by applying slight pressure to her lower back.
"That's your safeword," he said. Her hands reached out in front of her, bracing herself on the edge of the couch, her feet dangling helplessly as she laid over his lap. Resting his hand on her bottom, he was pleased to feel how thin the material was beneath his hand. That would do well. He had to ease her into it, and he had no idea what kind of pain tolerance she had.
"I thought you didn't do the lap thing?" she whispered into the couch.
"Up until two minutes ago, you didn't do the submissive thing," he countered. She giggled.
He needed to show her how hot it could be. He wanted her begging him, taken to a place she'd never been before, submitting to his every word, turned on by the loss of control and his power over her.
"What happens to naughty girls, Heidi?" he began in a stern voice. She gasped as she wriggled and he held her in place.
"They get… spanked?" she asked. He lifted his hand and brought it down sharply, not too hard, but firm enough that she no doubt felt the sting.
"That's right," he said, as she squealed from the sting of his hand. He lifted his hand and spanked her again, the crack of his palm echoing through the room. In between spanks he rubbed her bottom and groaned. God, she was so perfect, so full, so fucking gorgeous. He pushed his fingers between her legs and teased her, running a finger firmly over the thin material. She moaned out loud as he found the opening to her top again, and he pinched her hardened nipples. He continued, spanking her firmly but slowly, as he murmured how important it was to obey him and what happened to girls who didn't obey.
She was panting with desire now, fully primed, but her curiosity hadn't yet been sated.
"What would it be like…" she breathed. "Oh God, that's… good, Dom, it's good," she whispered. "But I want to know." He paused as she turned her head to the side. "What would it be like if I were really bad? And you had to punish me? Would it be like that?" she whispered, and he could hear her excitement and nervousness.
Without another thought, he pulled her yoga pants down and bared her to him, holding her firmly. She squealed.
"Did you text in the car tonight?" he asked evenly, voice low, corrective, his hand poised above her vulnerable bottom.
"Um… oh my gosh… yes?" she whispered. He spanked her hard, several stinging swats in succession, with no soft and sensual caressing in between. Her skin reddened beneath his hand as he spanked her again, and again, six sharp, rapid swats that took her breath away.
"Do that again, and this is where you'll be," he promised. His hand fell heavily as he gave her the hardest spank he'd yet given her. She fairly flew off his lap. "You'll not take your safety so lightly."
"Okay!" she said, panting and squirming.
"And if it were a repeated offense?" Swat! Swat! Swat! "I'd introduce you to my belt, and the spanking would be even harder."
"Got it!"
He stopped. "You asked, babe," he said, as he pulled her pants up again and released the pressure he had on her lower back. As soon as he did, she was up, up off his lap, and he pulled back in surprise. Was she leaving? Had he pushed her too far? Why was she…
Then her hand was flat against his chest and she shoved him back, straddling him, her mouth on his, and he responded instinctively, his hands flying to tear off her sweatshirt while hers found the edge of his t-shirt. There wasn't enough time, the need was so urgent, he needed her now and she was clearly in the same exact position.
He pulled her so that her legs wrapped around him and he stood. She squealed.
"I'm too heavy!"
His only response was a s
harp crack to her ass which made her groan even louder as he stalked to his bedroom and kicked open the door. He tossed her on the bed.
"Take 'em off," he growled as he took a condom out of the drawer next to the bed. She tore her clothes off so quickly he swore he heard something rip. He pushed her gently but firmly down on the bed, lowering himself on her and kissing her, holding her arms above her head and wrapping her legs around him.
"Please," she begged.
He needed no further invitation, but plunged deep within her, her moans ripping through his chest as his own groans mingled with hers, until the final, shattering release of his climax just seconds before hers.
He dropped his head to Heidi's.
They panted in silence for a moment before she spoke again.
"One more question," she panted, as her breathing slowed and he rolled over next to her, pulling her up onto his chest.
"Yeah?" he chuckled.
"Can we do that again sometime?" she whispered, her eyes closed, arm draped over her forehead in total surrender, tucked up against his side.
Chapter 9
Heidi stepped slowly off the elevator and turned left down the elegantly carpeted hallway, deeply conscious of the phone in her pocket, which seemed to be getting heavier and heavier the longer she ignored the unanswered text from Dom.
You left? Where the hell did you go?
A pang of guilt hit her as she trudged toward her office.
Not exactly your finest hour, Heidi, she rebuked herself. Leaving without an explanation.
And yet what else was she supposed to have done after she'd found herself tossing and turning all night in Dom's bed? After she had, God help her, asked him, begged him, to spank her? After she'd had the best orgasm of her life? After he'd then withdrawn so completely she could practically feel the wall he'd built as if it were a physical thing, and had told her, ordered her, to go to sleep in his bed alone? If there was an etiquette manual for a situation like this, she hadn't received a copy.
He wanted to know where she'd gone this morning, but the better question was where the hell her brain had gone last night.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She paused outside the door to her office, her stomach twisting as it always did when she caught the gold lettering on the frosted glass that proclaimed Heidi Morrow Consulting. The office wasn't much—just a small reception area and her sparsely decorated office, but it was hers. And at least here she knew what she was doing.
