Bared to Him

by Cartwright, Sierra

  Again he said nothing.

  “Then I went to bed with my vibrator.”

  “Continue.”

  With her free hand she pushed hair back from her face. “I was thinking about scenes I’d just read, but my imagination took over.” Admitting all this was embarrassing. Part of her wondered what she was doing. Myka reminded herself that she’d sought him out. “I was tied up.” Before courage could completely desert her, “I imagined a sharp slap between my legs.”

  “On your pussy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Say it.”

  “I imagined being slapped hard on my pussy.”

  “And then you came?”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Has anyone ever done that to you?”

  “No. Never.”

  “And would you like to have your pussy spanked hard, Myka?”

  Oh. God. She could barely breathe. There was something about the tone of his voice—seductive and firm—that undid her, seeming to send a bolt of electricity through her.

  “Answer the question, Myka.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Speak a little louder, please.”

  This man would never let her hide. Was she brave enough to face him? “Yes,” she repeated, a little more loudly. “Yes, I’d like to have my pussy spanked.”

  “Good girl.”

  His approval made her heart race.

  “What kind of real experience do you have with BDSM?” he asked.

  “Uhm… None.”

  “But you want your pussy spanked. And you want me to be the one to do it.” He waited a moment, and then added, “Ask me, Myka.”

  Her knees felt weak and terror vanquished her voice.

  With that seemingly infinite patience, he waited.

  Finally she cleared her throat. Hoping she was using the correct words, she asked, “Will you please spank my pussy?”

  “I’d be honoured to spank your pussy, as hard as you want. When?”

  She almost repeated the question before realising how inane that would sound. “Whenever you’re available.”

  “We have a few options. You can come to my home. We can go to a club. Or I can come to you. Or you can continue to wonder what it might be like to have your needs met.”

  She hadn’t considered the practicalities. If she went to him, she had the option of leaving if things spiralled out of control. At her place, she would feel more secure. She wasn’t sure about the idea of playing in public, but that was probably the safest option, at least until she knew him better. “I think a club would be best.”

  “Would you like me to send a car?”

  She paused for a moment. There were constant reminders of who she was dealing with. She was pretty sure he didn’t mean he’d send a taxi. “Yes, thank you.” Not needing to figure out where to park was the decision-maker for her.

  “Monday night?”

  Suddenly it all seemed too real. “Yes.”

  “Wear a short skirt and heels. The shirt should be a button-down. I’ll leave the choice of undergarments up to you. They won’t stay on long, anyway.”

  Her hand was shaking as he ended the call. She pressed the phone nervously against her chest. What had she just agreed to?

  Chapter Two

  Phillip arrived at the club half an hour early, a bag in hand.

  It had been a long time since he’d played with a neophyte. The idea of introducing Myka to BDSM appealed to him on a number of levels, emotional, mental, and, of course, physical. When she’d confessed to playing with herself, his cock had hardened. Instead of relieving himself, he’d decided to enjoy the sensual tension.

  He hadn’t had a submissive in a handful of years, and he wasn’t looking for another one. But he was tired of the constant stream of starlets, heiresses and socialites. He met his needs for kink through a relationship with a professional sub, but recently, he’d been restless. He’d wanted an emotional connection. He appreciated Daniella, but their arrangement had a time, a date, and a price tag attached. Myka Monroe might be the jolt his jaded senses needed.

  He’d been drawn to her when she’d stepped confidently into the elevator, wearing a business suit and sexy heels, her hair pulled back to expose the vulnerable column of her throat. And when he’d mentioned the book, she’d blushed. Her lack of artifice had intrigued him.

  It had been obvious that she hadn’t known who he was. And that had appealed to him. Their interaction had been brief but honest. Woman to man.

  He’d intentionally skipped giving her a business card, realising it would take homework for her to track him down. He’d hoped she’d contact him, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if she hadn’t. Honestly it had taken her less time than he’d thought it might, and he appreciated her efforts…enough so to reward them.

  “I’m expecting someone,” he told Jason, the club’s host.

  “Indeed, Sir?”

  He signed in and added his membership number. “Myka Monroe. It’s her first time. Have someone bring her to me in the bar.”

  “Anything else, Sir?”

  When he shook his head, Jason said, “Enjoy your evening.”

  Phillip nodded. He wondered what Myka’s reaction would be to the tall, broad Jason. He sported a Mohawk, a leather harness, pierced nipples, a collar with metal spikes, poured-on tight leather pants, and motorcycle boots. Not your typical office attire.

  Phillip sat at a small table towards the back of the bar. It was a good place for people watching, and he’d get to enjoy her arrival. Since it was a Monday night, the club wasn’t as busy as it would be on a weekend, but there were still plenty of people who might shock the impressionable Ms Monroe.

  The bartender herself brought over a tall beer. “I thought Daniella had tonight off,” Jilly said.

  With Jilly the word nosy was an understatement. “I have a guest joining me.”

  She smiled. “About time.”

  “Unless you’d like to bend over and grab your ankles while I light up that ass of yours, I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.”

  Clearly lacking a single submissive tendency, Jilly blew a raspberry. How he loved this place. No one cared one bit about who he was in the outside world. They just knew him here, accepted him for who he was, a person looking for the perfect match.

  “Seriously, I hope it works out.” Then, reverting to her normal sassy self, Jilly flipped her hair over her shoulder and moved off to help another table.

  He’d only taken a single drink of the cold draught when he saw Jason moving in his direction. Phillip checked his watch. He raised his brows, impressed. He’d instructed Tony, his driver, to pick her up forty minutes before their meeting time. So either traffic had been nonexistent or Myka had changed the pickup time, trying to be strategically early.

  Jason pointed to Phillip’s table before returning to his post.

  Phillip stood when she neared the table. Her skirt was short. A good tailor could easily take another inch and a half from the length and still leave it decent, but still, it pleased him to see so much of her shapely legs. She’d followed his other directions well, also. She’d selected stiletto pumps, and she wore a white button-down blouse. The evening was off to a good start.

  She hesitated before him. He knew her to be a competent financial adviser who took her commitment to client confidentiality seriously. He’d spent a fair amount of resources having his people vet her. The brief and unfortunate relationship with Cynthia had taught him not to take undue chances. “Please.” He indicated Myka should sit.

  She did so, tucking her stocking-clad legs to one side and crossing her ankles in a seductively feminine way. He took a chair across from her and signalled Jilly.

  When the woman arrived, Myka looked at him for guidance. The gesture pleased him. When he’d sent her confirmation details, he’d also included a few links to online articles about the lifestyle. They’d spoken on the telephone a couple of times so he was sure she understood him and his
expectations. “You read the blog posts I sent?”

  “Yes.”

  She didn’t say the word ‘Sir’, but she did hesitate, meaning she was tempted, but unsure of protocol.

  “I’m okay with you having one drink. As long as you haven’t had anything yet?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  She ordered a glass of red wine, and when it arrived, she toyed with the stem, betraying her nerves. He noticed her nails, polished to a beautiful shine. He couldn’t wait to see her hand wrapped around his cock. “Undo your top button,” he instructed.

  She looked up and worried her lower lip. She didn’t look around, instead she looked at him. Her instincts were perfect. She kept her gaze fixed on him as she followed his order. Was there anything sweeter than a sub being under his command?

  “Lovely,” he approved. “Now the next one.”

  Her fingers shook, but she did as he asked.

  “You wore a bra,” he observed.

  “A sheer one,” she said. Again, her voice dropped off at the end, as if she were unsure how to answer.

  He helped her out. “A sheer one, Sir.”

  The tension in her shoulders seemed to ease a bit. “A sheer one…” She paused. “Sir.”

  As she sipped her wine, he said, “You’ve thought about this evening.” It was a statement, not a question. After all, he’d been thinking about it. “Tell me what you hope happens.”

  She moved the wine glass to one side so there was nothing between them. “BDSM appeals to me on many levels,” she said, her voice quiet, but strong. “I want to submit. I’ll be honest, that you arranged for my ride—in a limousine?—and told me what to wear was sexy. I’m accustomed to making all the decisions for my life, and I have since I was fifteen. But you gave me choices, as well. I selected the outfit and decided where to meet. You’re not trying to take away my free will, but you’re stating your preferences. It turns me on.”

  With a steady gaze, she met his eyes.

  “Men don’t intimidate me. But you do,” she confessed.

  “Good.”

  “Good?” she asked, her brows drawing together in a tiny frown.

  “I want to intimidate you, just enough.” He leant forward a bit and moved his beer glass to the side. He noticed her breathing had increased. She swept hair away from her forehead. “I want you off balance, not knowing what to expect. But you’re right, I don’t want to take away your free will. I want your full participation. Give me your safe word.”

  “Snowboard.”

  He arched his brow.

  “I snowboard every chance I get. It’s my escape.”

  “I see. And when will you use your safe word?”

  “If I’m scared. If I feel as though things are out of control. If something you do hurts too much.”

  “I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” he said. “I will figure out where your limits are, what they are, and I’ll try not to push you beyond them. What are your hard limits?” He had sent her a list of common limits and told her they’d discuss them in person.

  “No breaking the skin.”

  “Fair enough. Anything else?” When she shook her head, he asked, “And soft limits?”

  “I’ve never tried anal.”

  “But it’s not off the table?”

  She reached for her wine and took a small sip. “No… I mean, no, Sir.”

  She’d added the honorific a little breathlessly. He couldn’t wait to hear her scream his name as she came. “I asked what you hope will happen this evening. I’m still waiting for your answer.”

  “You don’t let people off the hook easily, do you?”

  “No. And never with a submissive. Hiding things from me is to your disadvantage.” With a brow raised, he added, “Stalling any longer will earn you a punishment.”

  This time, she took a large drink of her wine.

  When she put down the glass, he moved it aside. “You’ve had enough,” he said.

  She twisted her hands together on the tabletop. She took her time formulating her words, but he waited without interrupting or giving her a way out. He’d asked a question, he expected an answer.

  “I hope I’m allowed to come.” She unclasped her hands, obviously having realised how much her actions were telegraphing her angst. “On the phone, you talked about flogging, and how it can be a sensual experience. I want to try that. I’d like to experience some nipple stimulation.”

  Her face flushed red. This was uncomfortable for her, and yet she was doing it, for him. Was there anything more alluring than a woman who was willing to risk her emotional comfort for her man?

  “And…”

  He waited a full thirty seconds before she spoke again.

  “Maybe a bit of humiliation…” She swallowed. Then with a whisper, she added, “Sir.”

  “We’ll go carefully there, until I know you better,” he said.

  “I would like to experience a spanking on my pussy.”

  “And sex?”

  “Intercourse is fine, as long as we use a condom.”

  “I have a private room reserved. Unless you’d rather play in public? If you like humiliation, that may be preferable.”

  “I’d prefer private for now. If that suits you, Sir?”

  “Please remain seated,” he said as he stood. He picked up his bag and put it on the top of the table. As he withdrew two full-grain leather items, she leant forward a bit. “Lift your hair.”

  She hesitated for only a fraction of a second before doing as he said. He placed a collar around her throat. She swallowed deeply and reached up to feel it after he had tightened and adjusted it. Their gazes met, and her lips parted slightly. Clearly he’d shocked her, but in a good way. “How does that feel, sub?”

  It was the first time he’d addressed her that way. She blinked. He wondered about her internal reaction. Fear? Anticipation?

  She reached up and traced a fingertip across the top of the collar. “It’s surprisingly comfortable. It’s softer than I thought it would be.”

  All of his implements were handcrafted from the finest materials. He only inflicted pain deliberately and with great care.

  Once she’d dropped her hand, silently and unconsciously signalling him that she’d accepted the collar, he held up the other piece for her to see. “A leash,” he said. It too was supple, but amazingly sturdy. “Kneel while I attach it to the collar.”

  Chapter Three

  Myka licked her lower lip. He wanted her to kneel in the bar, in front of everyone, while he leashed her?

  “Concentrate on me,” he said. “No one here matters except for you and I. Only two things are important—pleasing me, and getting your needs met. You wanted to try humiliation, and you didn’t use your safe word. That means you’re more concerned with what others may think than you are frightened. Am I correct?”

  She nodded.

  “In that case, Myka, on your knees. Now.”

  When he used that tone of voice—implacable and stern—she would do nearly anything. Keeping her gaze on him, she eased herself onto her knees.

  “Generally I prefer that my subs keep their gaze downcast, but I don’t know you well enough yet. If you and I are interacting, I want you to focus on me unless I give you permission to close your eyes. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She was shocked how easily the word slipped out. Ever since she’d stepped on the elevator with him, he’d had her on edge.

  Having him send a car for her had been an exquisite pleasure. Tony had treated her with complete courtesy, even when she’d asked if she could sit up front with him. With her new outfit and all the lavish attention, she’d felt as if she were a princess going to a ball.

  When she’d arrived at the club, she’d had no idea what to expect. Tony had said he had instructions to wait for her. He’d be fired if he didn’t care for her properly.

  Jason, who’d greeted her at the door, had stunned her with his attire and especially with his pierced nipples. This wasn’t her usual
kind of club.

  Phillip, though, was a man among men. He was dressed as if he’d come straight from work. A tailored jacket hugged his broad shoulders, his trousers were immaculately pressed, and his shoes reflected the overhead light. Everything about him radiated confidence and class.

  And he smelt… Masculine, pure and primal. The scent of woodsy soap combined with the heady sensuality of power intoxicated her. Her thoughts were jumbled, and she had to think about every word he said.

  Phillip wrapped a thick strand of leather around his hand. “Ask me to leash you.”

  She felt her cheeks stain. She had to clear her throat before she could speak clearly. “Sir, will you please leash me?” He smiled, and pleasure replaced the momentary pang of embarrassment.

  He efficiently attached the length to the hook on her collar. He gave an experimental tug, and she responded, leaning towards him.

  “Good,” he said. “This time I’ll allow you to walk behind me. Unless you’d prefer to crawl?”

  “Uhm, I want to walk. For sure.”

  He waited, his posture stiff, brow furrowed, as if expecting her to say something more.

  It took her a few seconds to remember her manners. “I’d prefer to walk, Sir, if it’s okay with you.”

  “Better,” he said. “But you’ve already been reminded how to address me. This time, I can’t allow it to go uncorrected.”

  “Sir?”

  “I intend to reinforce my message.”

  She frowned.

  “I am going to spank you, Myka. Here and now in full display of everyone in the bar. It’s your choice. You can accept the punishment or have Tony bring the car around.” There was no hostility in his tone, just a statement of fact.

  With his foot, he pulled his chair out from the table. He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. Then, with economical motions, he removed his cufflinks and dropped them on the table. The pieces of etched silver glittered in the overhead light. She stared at them, anything to escape the surreal moment.