by West, Harper
"I'm okay," I whispered back.
"Good." He stroked a hand down my back and then smacked my ass hard with his flat palm. "Because we aren't done yet."
The promise in his tone made me whimper softly, but I was definitely eager for more.
He stayed where he was, half bent over my body, hands on me, and he started spanking me hard with his hand.
There was some insulation from the pain from the layer of my underwear, but on top of the ache from the dragon's tail, the hand spanking hurt more than it would have ordinarily.
Killian wasn't going easy on me. He'd said he wouldn't be, but I could get him to ease up by calling yellow if I needed him to. There was no shame in that.
I was once again struck by the organization and care that went into scenes like this, and I could admire how people who were really into this lifestyle took care of each other.
I certainly felt taken care of, and I didn't consider myself to be deep into it yet.
But I didn't want him to ease up. Every hard hit, from the sound it made to the ripple of ache it sent through me was just working me up more, and there was a chorus of moans and little pleas, and it took a moment for me to realize I was the one making those sounds.
I was more into it than I'd expected, apparently.
Killian's back was to the crowd now, but he kept talking to them, explaining what he was doing, telling them how it made me react.
His words were blending together in the back of my head, all the sensations I was feeling making it hard to focus on what he was saying.
Instead I listened to the pounding of my heart and the way my breathing was ragged and choppy, how I sucked in a breath each time he hit me and then let it out in a messy sigh.
The fire of my ass was spreading down between my legs, and my clit was positively throbbing with the need for attention.
I knew Killian wasn't going to fuck me on stage because that was against the rules, and we'd already discussed that I didn't want anyone to see that.
But there was always the option to go downstairs and get a private area after this.
I didn't think I was going to be able to go home without him fucking me and taking care of the issue he'd caused between my legs.
I knew he'd be only too happy to take care of it.
Once he was done with the spanking, he gave my ass one last squeeze and stepped back, giving me a chance to breathe.
I was flooded with gratitude for that because I needed the break. Both because my ass was still on fire and because I felt like I was getting overwhelmed with sensation.
Killian left me there, still bent over the table and walked over to the edge of the platform from what I could hear. He went back to talking to the crowd, charming them with his words and his turns of phrase, and I let it fade into the background while I tried to get a hold of myself.
I was wet and needy, but that didn't mean I had to turn into a mewling slut right in front of all these people I didn't know.
If Killian and I came back here to do something like that again, I didn't want them to remember me for that.
It was embarrassing, even as it was pretty hot, and I was learning that I was just apparently going to feel like that about most of the things we did together in this context.
And that was fine. There was something to be said for trying new things and not letting fear get the better of you. I'd always tried to be the kind of person who didn't back away from things just because they were new and scary, and it made sense that this was no exception.
It had taken longer to get over the parts of it that I didn't think were worth dealing with, but overall, I felt like I'd learned a lot, and had come into my own.
There was still a lot to learn, I was sure.
Killian's footsteps alerted me to the fact that he was walking back to me, but he didn't touch me again. Instead, I heard him rummaging on the table for something, probably something else to hit me with, and I knew whatever it was, it was going to be the thing that sent me over the edge into too much.
I was already riding that fine line, the pain and the pleasure just this side of too much, and whatever he was going to do to me was going to be the final strike.
I braced myself for it, trying to think like him and anticipate what he might do.
In the middle of my thinking, I ended up screaming out as the hard, flat surface of a paddle smacked right across my whole ass, jarring me from my thoughts and hurting like a motherfucker.
The wooden paddles were so hard to take. The heaviness of them made them pack twice the punch they might have originally, and I knew I wouldn't be able to take many strokes from it.
Probably Killian was building up to the grand finale where he took me apart on stage and proved once again that he was some kind of golden god when it came to BDSM and getting submissive women to cry for him.
I gritted my teeth, wanting to rebel against that on instinct, but then I remembered I didn't have to, and it was okay to let my feelings out. It was part of the process.
When he hit me again, the sound that came out of my mouth was closer to a sob, and Killian stopped, leaning over me once more.
"Okay?" he asked.
I nodded, sniffling and trying to find my words.
He put a comforting hand on my back. "You've got five of these. Can you handle it? Can you be good for me and tough it out?"
Five. I could definitely take five. I was already two down, and though I was in a lot of pain, that pulsing desire from between my legs was still definitely present, reminding me that I didn't hate this as much as I could pretend I did.
I wondered if I could get off just from him hitting me, letting myself lose it front of all these people.
The other women he did it to always seemed like they were in a state of bliss, carried away from their worries and pain by the pleasure of Killian's attention.
I supposed I couldn't blame them.
"Yes," I finally said. "I can take it."
I could hear the smile in his voice. "Good girl. I knew you could. You're incredible like that."
There was pride there, and that made me feel proud. I was still new to all of it, but Killian believed in me, and that made me want to prove him right. Which was, admittedly, a new sensation.
The blindfold made everything more intense, but it also acted like a shield between me and everyone else. No one needed to know that it was soaking up the tears that had leaked from my eyes, and no one needed to know how wet I was from the spankings.
When Killian brought the paddle down for the third time, it was even harder, and I nearly shrieked with the pain, fingers curling into fists.
It was almost enough to dampen the pleasure, almost.
But then Killian dragged his nails down my back, making me shiver and turning me on all over again.
Fuck, he was so damned good at this.
"Two more," he murmured. "Just two more."
The fourth one was softer, and I knew it was just to lull me into a false sense of security because there was no way he was going to take it easy on me for the last two, but that was fine. I didn't need him to. I could take it.
He wound up for the fifth, teasing me by rubbing the wooden paddle against my ass and tapping it lightly, trying to get me to let my guard down or dragging it out just to be a dick.
Either way, I wasn't falling for it. I knew the last one would be the worst, and when he finally let me have it, I nearly collapsed from my knees giving out, the combination of the harsh pain and the immense pleasure bowling me over.
I was pretty sure I had just had an orgasm from getting paddled, and I was shaking through it, unable to help myself or hold back.
Killian dropped the paddle with a clatter and came back to lean over me again, soothing me with gentle hands and soft words that were meant only for me.
The crowd was clapping, but the applause sounded distant and tinny, and I knew I'd reached that place where I only had ears and eyes for Killian.
"You did so we
ll," he praised, sounding happy. "I am so proud of you."
"Don't need your pride," I managed to mumble back, but it wasn't nearly as flippant as I wanted it to be, and I just sounded blissed out.
He laughed either way.
The next little bit was a blur. I was unblindfolded and bundled into a blanket and taken downstairs.
Killian got me water and a snack and then peeled my panties down once we were behind a curtain so he could see the damage to my ass.
I didn't have to see it myself to know the bruising was going to be spectacular. I was going to have such a hard time sitting down for the next couple of days, and I knew Killian was going to enjoy teasing me about that.
That was just the kind of asshole he was.
But I felt warm towards him, and when he laid me down on the bed, I spread my legs for him automatically.
He arched an eyebrow, looking surprised.
"You want more."
"I'm still wet," I told him, and it was true. Even with a sore ass and having come once on stage, I wasn't done.
Killian smirked. "You know there are people outside, right? They'll be able to hear it if I give you want you want in here. You won't be able to keep yourself quiet, and they'll know what a little slut you are."
Those words hit me like blows and made me hot all over. I didn't know how many others were out there, but there were sounds of fucking and moaning around us, which proved the private areas were in use by other people.
But I'd come this far already, letting other people see me and hear me as I fell apart, and there was a secret little thrill at the thought of keeping that up. Of getting off in here with everyone knowing.
Killian looked at me like he could read my mind, and he grabbed my ankles, spreading my legs wider and pushing them up so they were bent at the knee with my feet flat on the bed.
Then he positioned himself between my legs, face right at my crotch and winked before he dove right in.
There was no build up, no teasing, no time to adjust.
He just ate me out like he was desperate for sustenance and my body was the only thing that could provide it for him. It was hotter than it had any right to be, honestly, and I arched, wincing when my ass reminded me of the pain I was in.
Outside the drawn curtain, there were people listening. There were people involved in their own scenes, in their own pleasure, and there were others who got their pleasure from watching and listening, being on the outside but somehow included in all of it.
It was a world I was still learning and one I didn't think I would ever fully understand, but I was a part of it now, that much was for sure.
Flat on my back with Killian's face between my legs, driving me insane and making me whine and beg for more like the slut he teased me about being, I knew I didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to judging anyone else.
I was getting my pleasure, too, and I was so close, right there on the edge while the sensation beat through my body in a heady wave.
It was going to drag me under, and there was nothing I could do but let it, shaking and trembling while pulse after pulse of pleasure washed over me, making hard to breathe, hard to move, hard to do anything other than lay there and take it.
Killian's clever mouth got me off and then got me off again, and when he finally rose from between my legs to tend to his own erection with a quick fist, I was too worn out to even help him.
Eventually the two of us managed to get it together enough to leave the club, though Killian was doing most of the work, steering me and my blanket to the parking lot, calling out goodbyes and accepting praise for both of us as we went.
I was content to stay in my haze until we got to the car.
"Does this mean I'm going to have to meet your parents?" Killian asked, continuing a conversation we’d begun hours ago before we’d gotten ready to come out that night.
I snorted, not bothering to lift my head from where I was curled up in the backseat, half wrapped in a blanket. After the night we'd just had, I was dreading the walk up to his building.
“No,” I answered. “Not yet anyway. I mean, we’re not there yet.” Which was hilarious considering we’d skipped all the preliminary stuff and had chugged right on forward into being married before we’d even known each other.
He sighed with relief, and I knew he didn't do well with parents. His father was dead, and his mother was terrible, so it made sense.
My parents were going to be hard on him if they ever had cause to meet, probably. He was rich and so many of the things they didn't trust, but I was hoping they would trust my judgement on the matter.
"What are we even going to tell them if we get to that point?" he asked. “Do we mention the divorce?”
"No, I didn't plan on telling them that part, Killian, Jesus."
It made the most sense to end our marriage at the one year mark the way we'd planned to. Neither of us were really ready for the kind of commitment being in a real marriage would bring, and we wanted the freedom to continue exploring whatever it was we had together without the pressure of being husband and wife hanging over our heads.
We weren't sure what we were doing yet, really. All we knew was we wanted to be together and to see where it went.
And that was good enough for me. It was enough direction that I didn't feel like it was a waste of time, and in a month when the whole thing was over, I wouldn't be shackled to him by a contract.
I would have more money than I knew what to do with, and I'd be free to be with Killian because I wanted to be, not because I felt like I didn't have another choice.
I wasn't going to be dependent on him to get by, and that would go a long way towards helping our relationship.
As usual, he was being fairly closed-mouthed about how he felt about the whole thing, but I was learning to read him well enough that I knew he was happy about it.
He'd been in rare form at the club, bright and open and wielding his power well. Anyone could tell he had enjoyed himself, and if I was being honest, I'd enjoyed myself too.
It was still weird to have done that in front of so many people, but there was a thrill in it, too.
As I was learning every time I did something like that, there was a lot of power in submission. There was a lot of strength in letting someone make you vulnerable and helpless.
Putting that trust in another person wasn't a sign of weakness and capitalizing on it wasn't a sign of being a bad person. It was just another relationship dynamic, like any other.
I reached up and touched the collar around my neck, fingers slipping over the soft leather.
If someone had told me a year ago that I would end up in a position like this one, I would have suggested they fuck off and go get their head examined.
Even once I'd gotten to know Killian, I never would have thought the two of us would end up the way we were. He was arrogant and rude and demanding, but there was more to him than that, and to be honest, the more I saw the more I liked him.
So, I was going to have to tell the people in my life about him eventually, if things kept going well.
My parents, my co-workers (though some of them would not be surprised), my friends. Simon would be difficult to talk to about it, but that was one of those things that I would tackle when it became relevant.
For the moment, the two of us were just seeing where things went.
"Are you staying for the rest of the weekend?" Killian asked me from the driver's seat, breaking into my thoughts.
We were close to his place, I could tell, and I really didn't want to move, but there was no way I was going to be able to sleep in the car.
"Guess so," I replied. "After what you did to me."
"You loved it. I don't want to hear any complaining."
"Love is a strong word, you know."
"I know, and it's still true. You came on stage from getting paddled. That sounds like love to me."
"You're biased."
"And you're not?"
Even if my ex
hausted state, I could still bicker with Killian, and that kept us going all the way to the parking lot and then into the building and to the elevator.
Luckily it was late enough that no one else was around because I didn't want to surrender my blanket, even if I was fully clothed by then.
When we got inside, Killian put his kettle on for tea without being asked, and I smiled to myself. He really did know what I wanted. What I needed. He took care of me in so many more ways than my favorite one.
I left the kitchen to change, taking a detour to the bathroom to look at my ass. I gasped at the mess it was; bruises and welts and red splotches everywhere, and then I smiled.
The signs of a very good night, apparently.
I couldn't even be upset about it, because I knew Killian would make the torturous, intoxicating pain, end in total and utter pleasure.
After all, that was how our deal worked.
Tease. Torment. Gratify.
And for the first time in my life, I was finally admitting the truth.
To him.
To me.
To the world.
And the truth was, that I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wouldn’t trade a second of what it took for us to become what we were today for anything in this world.
I’m the Dom’s forever—and he’s mine.
Thank you!
Thanks for reading my first ‘series’ The Pleasure Wars!
I really hope you loved it!
I have so many more exciting things coming! (Including audio books of this series.)
I’ll be balancing my menage romance and straight contemporary romance each month with a release in each genre.
I hope to sate all your sexy book needs!
- Harper
FREE PREVIEW - The Billionaires and The Booknerd
Chapter One
Brooklyn
I stood in the center of the bathroom, staring at the reflection of the lavish chairs behind me. There were drapes covering every inch of the walls, delicate fabric that shimmered in the soft bathroom light. The entire room was blanketed with rich burgundy and sunflower yellow, the vibrant mixture of colors giving out a warm glow. It was like a childhood blanket or a fort of protection from the storm—and I was right in the middle of it.
