by Ashe Barker
Also, she knew that Elise would insist she go back to her flat and relax, take the rest of the day off at least. And Eugenie just could not spare the time. She was immersed in wedding arrangements, in daily contact with Farah’s household staff as they choreographed every detail of the coming event. She had delegated nothing and did not intend to start now. The deal with Farah had been that she would devote her exclusive attention to this affair, and she had meant it.
She would be having no time off, no taking to her bed. Nothing was broken, everything seemed to be still working, just about. She would just get through this day and hopefully she’d be much better by tomorrow. A good night’s sleep, a long soak and she’d be fine.
Problem was, her tiny flat boasted a small shower cubicle but no bath. She’d have to prevail on Aaron for that luxury, which would mean telling him about her mishap. And he would fuss. He’d want to know exactly what had happened, how it happened, how she’d managed to be so careless. He did seem so much more easygoing than when she’d first known him, but he was unrelenting as far as taking care of herself was concerned. He liked her to eat properly, to get plenty of sleep, to relax as well as work. He would not approve of her stoicism today.
Eugenie was relieved not to encounter him at all during the course of the day, though that was unusual. The negotiations regarding the proposed surveillance must have been more difficult than he’d anticipated, or maybe other matters had required his attention.
As the afternoon wore on, her back stiffened up and she could hardly move her left shoulder at all. She managed to complete her correspondence by typing more or less one-handed, and groaned as her phone pinged to alert her to the arrival of a text. She knew it had to be from Aaron.
Sorry, missed you today. 8 p.m., my place. Usual rules re underwear.
Normally, she’d be bouncing with excitement at such a promise. This evening she knew she couldn’t do it. She would have to tell him what had happened, that she’d managed to hurl herself down the stairs then made matters worse by dragging herself through a full day’s work. Shit, she hadn’t even checked the bruising, let alone shown up at Fleur’s clinic for a more thorough check-up. He’d have a right to be pissed off, but she just wished he wouldn’t find it necessary to take issue with her over it while she felt so fragile.
She knew it would do no good to appeal to his sympathy. The fall was an accident. He might grumble, but he’d live with that. Her disregard for herself afterward, though, would earn her a spanking at least. With a grimace, she decided to make the best of it. She picked up her phone to return his text
Took a tumble earlier and feeling a bit stiff. Is it all right to use your bath? I need a long soak.
His response came seconds later.
What happened?
With a sigh, she tapped out her response.
Fell down the stairs this morning. Nothing broken but a few bruises.
His reply was instantaneous.
What does Fleur say?
Now for it.
I didn’t see her. I’m fine. Really.
Go to Fleur’s office. Now.
She sent the only possible reply.
Yes, Sir.
* * * *
“Some quite severe bruising, especially around the shoulders and left hip. No fractures and no obvious signs of concussion, but I really would have preferred to have seen you earlier. As soon as this happened.”
Fleur’s words were not unreasonable, but Eugenie knew they signaled the start of what would prove to be a difficult conversation with Aaron. He had arrived at Fleur’s office a few minutes after Eugenie did and had stood in silence as she allowed the doctor to examine her. Fleur had suggested he might wait outside, but Eugenie protested at that. She needed him—it was that simple. She proceeded to remove her blouse for the doctor to see her battered torso, then she perched quietly on the edge of the examination couch while the doctor did her stuff.
Eugenie snatched a glance in Aaron’s direction and her heart sank. He looked so formidable, so bloody angry with her. He leaned against the door, his arms folded across his chest, eyes narrowed. He made no comment as Fleur checked Eugenie’s pulse, listened to her breathing, shone her little penlight in her eyes.
“You can go, but take things easy for the next day or so. If you experience any dizziness, any nausea, headaches—I want to know. I’ll prescribe you something to ease the inflammation and reduce the pain a little, but what you really need now is rest.”
“I’ll see to it she follows orders. Thank you, Fleur.” Aaron eased himself from the door and passed Eugenie her blouse to put back on. He held the sleeves for her as she struggled to maneuver her shoulders, then he stepped in front of her to fasten the buttons. His expression was grim.
“You said you wanted a soak?”
“Please, yes.”
“Okay. Let’s go, then.” He nodded to Fleur as she sat at her desk to enter her notes in the computer. The doctor lifted her hand in what Eugenie felt seemed like a sympathetic wave as they exited. Odd, there was no way the doctor could even start to imagine what Aaron probably had in store for her.
They walked in silence to the elevator. Eugenie cringed as he punched the call button.
“Sir, I—”
“Save it. We’ll talk in my apartment.”
Eugenie followed him into the elevator, her eyes fixed on her shoes. If only she’d buckled her sandal properly that morning, then she wouldn’t have needed to stop to refasten it. Her body ached, every bloody inch of it. She just wanted to lounge in a warm bath then sleep. Instead, she had an angry Dom to contend with. A Dom intent on retribution.
She’d been in a similar position before, she now recalled. Three years ago, in Newcastle. She’d felt dire then, utterly miserable, yet he’d piled on the pressure—and she’d snapped. She promised herself she would not make the same mistake this time, no matter how severe his punishment. But despite her resolve, she wished he’d just leave her alone to lick her wounds tonight.
Aaron opened the door to his apartment and gestured her inside. She hugged herself as she stood in the center of his living room feeling awkward and unhappy. Aaron marched past her and headed for the bathroom. A few seconds later, the sound of running water reached her.
Her bath. He intended to let her have that soak. With any luck, he’d let her ease some of the aching from her bones before he exacted his retribution for her careless disregard for her wellbeing. Sure enough, he re-emerged, sleeves rolled up.
“Should be ready in a few moments. Get undressed, please.”
Disobedience was not an option. And in any case, she wanted that bath. She slipped off her sandals before starting to unfasten the buttons down the front of her blouse. She winced as she attempted to shrug out of it. Aaron stepped up behind her and eased the sleeves down her arms.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Can you manage the rest?”
“Could you unfasten my bra, please?”
He unsnapped it and Eugenie leaned forward to slip the lacy lingerie off. Aaron took it from her and placed it on the couch. She released the button on the waistband of her skirt and allowed that to fall around her ankles. As she started to bend to retrieve it, Aaron beat her to it. She stepped out of the pooled linen to allow him to pick the skirt up and fold it with the rest of her things. Her briefs were next, and she was naked.
Aaron walked slowly around her, circumnavigating her as he inspected every inch of her bruised body.
“Shit, girl, that looks sore. You managed to work all day, in this state?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Why?”
She glanced up at him, surprised he would need to ask that. “Because I was busy, Sir. We are all busy.”
He made no comment on that. “Did Elise know?”
Eugenie shook her head.
Aaron snorted in apparent disgust. “No, I’ll bet she didn’t. Yeah, everyone’s busy, but that doesn’t mean we’re expected to fucking kill ourselves. There’s not
hing you needed to do that couldn’t have waited until tomorrow, or next week. Or someone else could have stepped in, helped you out for a bit. You’re part of a team here and that’s how it works. You could have taken the day off.”
Eugenie raised her gaze to his, her defensive instincts kicking in. “I…”
“What?” He tipped up his chin, waiting.
“Nothing, Sir. You’re right. I’m sorry.” She bowed her head as she accepted the truth of his words.
“You will be. But now, your bath should be ready. I’ll help you get in—you look as though you can hardly move.”
Eugenie muttered her appreciation as he held her arms, steadying her as she lowered her body into the steaming water. He’d put something pleasantly aromatic in there too, and a soft, inviting foam lay on the surface. Surprised, she hadn’t expected him to own a bottle of bubble bath. She sighed in relief as she sank into the warm depths, felt the heat envelop her aching limbs.
“Lie back, just relax for a while. Would you like some music?”
Eugenie nodded, her eyes closed. A few seconds later, the strains of something soft and classical drifted around the room.
“Mozart. Do you like it?”
Eugenie nodded, her eyelids heavy.
“Enjoy it, then. I’ll be back soon to wash your hair—and the rest of you.”
Was that a glimmer of humor in his voice? Eugenie thought it might have been, but knew better than to get her hopes up. Punishment first, play later.
* * * *
“How do you feel now?”
Eugenie opened her eyes to see Aaron crouching beside her, his arms folded on the edge of the bath. She managed a watery smile.
“It’s easier now, Sir. Less stiff. Thank you for this.”
“You’re welcome.” He stood to unhook the showerhead from its bracket. “Ready for your hair now?”
“You don’t have to do that, Sir. I can manage. Really.”
“Really? I think not. Sit up, girl.” He slipped an arm under her shoulders to help her into a sitting position. Neither of them spoke as he sprayed her hair with warm water then worked lather into her long, curling strands. Eugenie thought this was the first time since she’d been a child that anyone other than a professional stylist had washed her hair for her. She could get to like it.
Aaron rinsed the suds away then squirted more shampoo into his palm. He massaged her scalp slowly, working the lather through as Eugenie tilted her head back into his palms.
“Is this good?”
“Mmm, yes, Sir. Wonderful.”
“I have some conditioner somewhere. Would you like that too?”
“Thank you, Sir. That would be nice.”
Aaron rinsed the shampoo off, then rifled through his bathroom cabinet for a miniature bottle of hotel conditioner. He grinned as he returned to the side of the bath. “I don’t use it myself, but even so we can’t let the guests swipe the lot. I like to keep a bit in reserve.”
That explanation probably accounted for the bubble bath too.
Eugenie thought she might just fall asleep in the cooling bathwater as he stroked the slick cream though her hair, working slow circles into her scalp. He lingered over the delicate hollows just behind her ears then moved on to her neck.
By the time he reached her shoulders, Eugenie knew that any pretense of conditioning her hair was over. He was exploring her fragile body now.
“Where does it hurt most?”
“My back. And my bum.”
“I see. Pity about your bum. Can you lean forward a little, love? Let me reach a bit farther down.”
Eugenie obeyed, loving the feel of his fingers as they played along her spine. For a Dom intent on punishment, he was being incredibly gentle. Despite her discomfort, her pussy moistened in helpless response. Perhaps she might be able to work up some interest in fucking him after all, though he might yet manage to beat that sentiment out of her. Just as she deserved.
Eugenie gulped, biting back a sob. She felt dreadful and not just because of the physical toll this day had taken on her. She was filled with remorse for having ignored what she knew would have been Aaron’s wishes and, without doubt, the wishes of her boss too. She’d let herself believe she was so indispensable that she just had to carry on, that no one else could replace her, that the whole wedding might fall apart if she missed a day’s work. How arrogant, how self-important could she be? He was right to be disappointed in her. She was disappointed in herself.
It was not even as though she’d been firing on all four cylinders today. She’d most likely spend most of tomorrow putting right the errors she’d made. How could she have been so stupid? She needed that spanking. It would mean he’d be able to forgive her, and it might even help her to forgive herself.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I’m ready now.” She turned to look at him over her shoulder, no longer attempting to hold back her tears.
“You’re crying, love. Does it hurt that much?”
“Yes. I hurt everywhere. But it’s not the bruises. I feel such a fool. I let you down.”
“Yes, you did.” He continued to caress her lower back, feathering his fingers across her most tender places.
“You’re right to be angry.”
He flashed her a lopsided grin. “Do I seem angry to you?”
“Not right now, but… You must be, Sir.”
“I was angry, but now I’m disappointed. And worried about you. I need you to take better care of yourself than this. If your body is to be covered in bruises, I prefer to know I put them there and that we both had a good time in the doing of it.”
“I know that, Sir. I know you care about me. More than I deserve.”
“No, not more than that. So, what are we to do about this problem of yours, then?”
“I deserve a spanking, Sir.”
“You do, certainly.”
“Would you like me over your knee, Sir?”
“Hell, yes. But I don’t think either one of us really believes that would be good idea right now. Are you ready to get out?”
Eugenie nodded, unsure how to interpret his remark about what might constitute a good idea. She tilted her head back as he sprayed warm water over her hair to rinse out the conditioner then accepted his help to stand. Aaron wrapped her in a large towel and wound another around her hair before lifting her in his arms and carrying her from the bathroom. He marched into his bedroom and laid her on the bed.
“Are you tired?”
“Yes, Sir, I am. But I’d rather get this over with now, if you don’t mind. Then, if you think I deserve it, could we make love?”
“So, let me get this right. You expect me to spank you now? While you’re so fragile, so sore? And follow it up with a bit of vanilla sex?”
“Yes, Sir. I need it. Please.”
“Why? What is it you need?”
“I need to be rid of this, this—this guilt.”
“Ah, so this spanking is for you then, not for me?”
“Aren’t they always?”
Aaron smiled, and this time she knew it was a grin of genuine warmth. Still beaming at her, he stood and went over to a drawer, started hunting around inside for something. Eugenie waited, eyeing him with curiosity as he returned to the bed carrying a wooden ruler. Surely, he did not mean to stripe her bottom with that.
“Hold out your hand, Genie. The left one.”
“My hand?” She was incredulous.
He nodded. And waited. Eugenie sat up and extended her left hand, palm up.
“I’d be satisfied with just one stroke. Will that be enough for you, do you think?” He regarded her from under lowered brows, waiting for her to respond.
Eugenie considered for a few moments then shook her head. “No, Sir. I need five, I think. At least five.”
“Okay, five it is, then. Hold your hand still for me, please.”
She did so, resting her fingers against Aaron’s outstretched left hand as he adjusted his grip on the ruler. She closed her eyes, half expecting to b
e instructed to open them and watch her punishment being administered. The slight whoosh of displaced air was her only warning, then the sharp sting of pain as the ruler connected with her palm.
“One.” Aaron usually asked her to count. She was surprised that he was doing it this time.
Another whoosh and the ruler struck her palm again. It hurt, but was not as bad as she had feared. He was taking it easy, deliberately holding back.
“Harder, Sir. I need it to hurt. Please.”
“Okay. Your safe word for this is still Maupassant, then?”
“I will not require it, Sir. Please, harder.”
The third strike was blistering. Eugenie cried out and it took an extreme effort of will not to hug her hand to her stomach.
“Three.” Aaron waited, as though expecting her to use the safe word.
Eugenie opened her eyes to meet his dark gaze. She pushed her hand toward him.
“The last two, Sir. Please.”
He flattened his mouth in quiet determination. The last two strokes were delivered with quick efficiency, but when she would have at last cradled her hand against her other arm, he held onto it, lifting it to his mouth to lay a soft kiss in her red and smarting palm.
“All done. Could you sleep now?”
“Nearly, Sir. Thank you.”
“Nearly?” He lifted one eyebrow, tilting her chin up with two fingers. “Is there something else I can do for you tonight?”
“Fuck me, Sir. If you would, please. Hard. I need it to be hard. I want that to hurt too.”
