“You knew?”
Now he laughed. “Shall we get this done so we can move on to better things?”
“Will I be allowed to come?” she asked. “I’ve been on edge all day, Jake! I thought that one, and really it was just to get myself to relax so I could put the plug in, but I thought that one would do it and I’d be ok, but…”
He smiled, taking her face and bringing it to his, kissing her.
“And really, I think I should get something for telling you the truth. I could have lied and pretended I’d been good.”
“Let me ask you something then,” he said, a little more serious this time. “Do you want me to let you off the hook?” he asked. “I gave you one restriction and you ignored it. You felt guilty enough that you came to stand in the corner yourself. I think you want me to hold you accountable. Or am I misreading things?”
“I just don’t really want the belt. I think that will hurt a lot.”
“Answer my question. Do you want me to let you off the hook? Would it be fair to either one of us if I don’t follow through?”
She considered for a moment, her expression also growing more serious. “You should spank me,” she said.
He smiled. “You know we’re playing around and you’re not in real trouble, you understand that, right?”
She nodded.
“Do you remember your safe word?”
She nodded again.
“If you feel like the belt is too much, use it and we’ll go from there, ok?”
“Ok.”
“Where do your hands and feet stay while you’re being spanked?” he asked.
“On the floor.”
“All right, slide your panties off and get in position.”
She stepped out of her underwear which had slid to her ankles and got up from her seat on his lap to lean over it, holding on to his thigh as she lowered herself and put her hands on the floor.
“Do I need to hold you in place?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
He started softly, just caressing her bottom and thighs first, spreading her open to press on the base of the plug. He wanted to take her ass. His cock throbbed beneath her belly as she wriggled about and he realized what she was trying to do, moving just a little forward. He shook his head and smacked her ass.
“Ow!”
“Don’t try to come. Remember that’s why you’re in this mess to begin with.”
“Sorry. Ow!”
He spanked fast, covering both cheeks and the very tops of her thighs. He gripped her waist to keep her from moving so much and he could see the effort it took for her to keep her hands and feet on the floor. She made some sound but just like the other night, she wasn’t one to scream or call out. It didn’t surprise him, actually, he would have been surprised if she was a screamer. She kicked now and again but only once did he have to remind her to keep her feet on the floor. When her bottom and thighs were a pretty shade of pink, he lifted her to stand. She stumbled but he caught her as he rose to his feet. Her eyes were wet and her face flushed, hair sticking to her forehead where she’d broken a sweat. He pushed them back from her face and kissed her temple as he reached to pull his belt from its loops.
“Bend over the arm of the couch, Meg,” he said.
She glanced at the belt, then back at him. He nodded to reassure her and she moved toward the couch, draping herself over the wide arm with her hands on the seat.
“Down flat on your torso, you can keep your arms underneath you.”
She did as he said without a word, laying her face on the seat and looking up at him.
“We’ll do ten. You’ll count out loud and thank me each time. If you rise, the stroke won’t count, understood?”
She lifted her face from the sofa and nodded, looking forward. He saw how she had fisted her small hands beneath her chest to brace herself. The belt would hurt but he wanted to use it, he wanted to mark her with it. He wanted to line neat stripes along her ass and thighs and he wanted to do it with his belt.
Before moving to take up his place behind her, he went to his desk and retrieved a tube of lubricant, slipping it into his pocket. “Straight legs, don’t bend your knees. Feet flat on the floor and thighs together. Good girl.”
She sucked in a breath with the first stroke and he waited, watching the quickly reddening stripe on the center of her ass. His cock grew even more rigid, if that were possible, and he was certain fucking her wasn’t going to last long.
“One, sir. Thank you.”
He brought the belt down again and waited for her to count, wishing now he’d given a lesser number or not asked her to count because he wanted these strokes done and he wanted to fuck her. The third stroke lay just above the last and she clenched her bottom, tucking her arms deeper beneath her as she called out the count. The next four he did quickly, barely giving her enough time to count out the strokes. The last three he concentrated in one place along her sit spots. She counted each one and when it was over, she turned to face him but remained in position. Her eyes were red and her forehead shone with sweat. He dropped the belt to the floor and before sliding his pants off, he reached underneath her to find her clit. She lifted her hips to him and he rubbed the slippery nub while with his other hand, he gripped the base of the plug.
“Push, Megan,” he said. She did as he played with the plug, withdrawing it slowly.
“Jake…” she began, reaching for his hand to push it from her clit.
“Shh… You can come, Megan. More than once if it happens,” he said, taking the lubricant from his pocket and dropping his pants and underwear.
Her body relaxed at his verbal permission and she gave herself over to him as he massaged her clit with his hand while sliding his cock into her slick pussy. She called out as she came and it took all he had to keep from exploding inside her. He held still inside her until she slowly settled, her breathing still heavy and short.
“Megan,” he said while smearing some of the lubricant onto her bottom hole. She moaned when he touched her there, trying to pull away a little.
“Just a minute. It’s too much,” she managed. He imagined she’d be hypersensitive now but it wasn’t unusual for her to have multiple orgasms during sex. She just had to get beyond this point.
“I’m going to fuck your ass, Meg.”
She only moaned but didn’t try to pull away when he rubbed the lubricated head of his cock against her back hole.
“We’ll go slowly, just push against me baby.”
He spread her open, watching her hole stretch to take him, giving her time to adjust until the head of his cock was in and she began to moan softly as he moved slowly, taking centimeter by centimeter. He was so close that he had to stop altogether more than once so as not to come but when he was half way in and she began to move her hips in time with his, moaning, he could no longer hold back. He took the next inches as she pushed against him, resisting for just a moment before softening again and when she called out to him to fuck her while reaching a hand to her pussy, he gripped her hips tight and fucked her hard and fast, the feel of her tight, hot hole different from her pussy as she stretched to take him.
Her muscles clamped down around him as she came again and this time he didn’t hold back, thrusting into her ass hard until he too stilled, his cock throbbing, pumping his seed inside her.
Chapter Six
The doorbell announcing the first of the party guests rang at five minutes over the hour. Megan hadn’t been able to eat a thing all day and Jake had finally made her get out of the kitchen and let Anna take over. She was barely down the stairs and still tucking a pin into her hair when she heard a woman’s laughter coming from the hall. She stopped and forced herself to take a deep breath. She could do this, it was fine. There was no reason for her to be so nervous. She wasn’t a child; she was Jake Roark’s wife.
“There you are,” Jake said as she turned the corner, pasting a smile onto her face, her nerves
a jumbled mess in her belly. He put his hand at her bare low back, rubbing once before urging her forward. “This is my wife, Megan,” he said, introducing her to the older couple. “Megan, this is John Steward and his wife, Karen.”
“Nice to meet you,” Megan said, shaking hands with the couple.
Jake told her what Mr. Steward did but she barely heard it as the doorbell rang again and Jake opened it. Two couples walked in and they all seemed to know each other because immediately after she was introduced, the women began to talk among themselves and Jake with the men.
She stayed by Jake smiling politely, glad for his hand at her back reassuring her.
“Come on in, we’ll get some drinks for everyone,” he said.
The three waiters he’d hired for the night stood ready to pour drinks for everyone. Megan floated around the room on Jake’s arm feeling out of place, realizing she was at least twenty years younger than the youngest woman here. She counted heads. They were waiting on two more couples. She was about to go into the kitchen for a break when the doorbell rang again. Jake looked at her and she signaled she would answer. He smiled, turning his attention back to the conversation at hand. Megan’s heels clicked along the hardwood floor as she made her way to the front door and pulled it open. A couple smiled at her and behind them a man stood in the distance talking on his phone.
“Hello, young lady, you must be Jake’s wife,” the older man said. He stepped inside, ushering his wife in with him. Both had graying hair and were elegantly dressed. Their smiles seemed genuine and the man held out his hand.
“Yes, I’m Megan,” she said, allowing him to wrap both of his around her one hand.
“Fine to meet you. Jake talks about you all the time, you know,” he said.
His wife nudged him. “Don’t embarrass her, Gray. I’m Abigail and this is my husband Gray Manson. It’s nice to meet you dear,” she said, taking her hand from her husband’s and giving him a look. “You’ve got to watch the old men, hon,” the woman said to her, eyeing her husband and nudging him with her elbow. It was in jest and for the first time all day, Megan smiled, relaxing a little.
“You know I’ve only got eyes for you, Abby.”
“M-hmm. You’d better, old man.”
“Connelly, get your ass in here already,” Gray called out to the man who stood outside on his phone.
Megan turned, her smile disappearing as the man tucked his phone into his pocket and came out of the shadows. He too paused for a moment, recognition dawning on his face as Megan felt the color drain from hers.
“Mr. and Mrs. Manson,” Jake’s voice came as he rounded the corner and shook the older man’s hand before kissing his wife on the cheek. “I see you’ve met my wife.”
“Not all of us,” Sean Connelly said. He held out his hand to her.
She didn’t take her eyes from Sean’s for a second, remaining as if frozen in time.
“Honey?” Jake said, snapping her out of it. “This is Sean Connelly, one of the members on the deciding board.”
But Jake didn’t need to introduce him.
She looked down at Sean Connelly’s hand where he held it out to her and she slowly placed her trembling one inside it.
“Truly a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Roark. Or Megan is it? May I call you Megan?” he asked.
“Yes. Of course,” she said, feeling clammy and cold, realizing how awkward she must look, wondering if anyone else sensed the fact that this was not her first meeting with Sean Connelly.
“Let’s head inside, get everyone a drink,” Jake said, his hand on his wife’s back, turning her to follow behind the others. “You ok?” he asked.
She looked at him, at her beautiful husband who so did not need this right now. She nodded. “Yeah, just should eat something. The wine is going to my head.”
He kissed her cheek, pulling her in for a quick hug. “Take a minute with Anna, eat something, then come back inside.”
“I will.” She held onto his hand when he turned to walk back into the living room and he stopped, looking at her, puzzled. “I love you,” she said, trying to smile a small smile.
“Me too. Now hurry up.” He turned and went into the living room and she, instead of going into the kitchen, slipped quickly up the stairs and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She picked up the phone and dialed, alternately sitting on the edge of the bed then standing, pacing the room. This couldn’t be happening. Her childhood was one thing, her parents a part of that. She could leave that all behind. But when Sean Connelly had walked in that door tonight, it was like the past just walked right back into her life.
“Josie?” she said into the phone, the first tear sliding down her cheek.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Megan inhaled a deep breath and walked down the stairs to rejoin the party. Jake ran into her in the hallway looking not too pleased. “Meg, what are you doing?”
“I just… my stomach was upset.”
He looked like he had something to say but didn’t and she could see the pressure he was under. Jake was usually very collected but tonight was a big deal. A really big deal. She was about to blow it for him if she didn’t get her act together.
“All right, come back inside now. I need you with me.”
She only smiled when he led her back into the living room. The light was dimmed and music played softly in the background. As usually happened at parties like this, the men had grouped together at one end of the room and the women the other. Jake urged her to join in on the conversation on the women’s side. She walked over and Abigail Manson immediately came to take her arm. She felt grateful to the older woman who must have sensed her discomfort and made a point of drawing her into the conversation even when some of the other women made quite the opposite point.
“Megan,” Anna whispered, tapping her shoulder. “Dinner’s ready to be served.”
“Ok, thanks Anna.” Megan rose to her feet and called the ladies to collect their husbands. Jake was engrossed in a conversation with two of the men and as she approached him, Sean Connelly’s hand closed over her elbow, drawing her back.
“Why don’t you walk me in, Meggie? Your husband looks busy.”
His smile was that of a piranha and it took all Megan had not to yank herself free of his grip. And that’s what it was: a grip. His fingers dug into her arm, hurting her.
He remembered her, of course he did.
“What do you want?” she asked, trying hard to keep her voice from trembling.
He cocked his head to the side. “That’s no way to treat an old friend, is it?” he asked.
“You’re not a friend.”
The air hung heavy between them. Someone laughed in the distance, breaking into the awkward silence.
“How is your wife feeling, Sean?” Jake asked, coming to stand between them, his one glance at Sean’s grip on Megan forcing Sean to let her go. Megan instantly rubbed the spot, wanting to wash his touch from her, but Jake covered that same spot with his softer, gentler hand.
“Sadly not well enough to join tonight,” Sean said. “You looked busy so I thought I’d walk Megan in. She looked lonely,” he said, glancing at her.
Jake’s mouth barely moved into a smile so forced, there was no confusing its meaning. “That so?” he asked.
Just then Anna came in needing Megan’s attention. She excused herself and left both men to help Anna.
“What happened that had Jake’s hackles up?” Anna asked as she plated the potatoes.
“Do you think everyone noticed?” Megan asked, checking on the meat.
“No, they were all gathering in the dining room already.”
“This looks good,” Megan said, changing the subject. “Should I help you get it on a serving dish?”
“No, don’t mess up your dress. How do you want to serve the greens?” she asked.
“Here,” Megan said, reaching into a high cupboard to get a large serving dish. “Use this.”
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“Thanks. It will be out in a minute.”
Megan hovered, casting a worried glance to the door.
“What is it?” Anna asked. “Who is that man?”
Megan felt the same shiver she had felt when she had first recognized him. “An old mistake. I’d better get back.”
Anna wiped her hands on a towel, studying her. “You ok?” she asked.
Megan just attempted a smile and walked out into the dining room where Jake was waiting for her with an empty seat at his side. She felt Sean’s eyes on her from the other end of the table and it took all she had to keep the smile pasted on her face.
* * *
Jake kept one hand on Megan’s knee throughout dinner and conversation flowed well. The meal was delicious and Jake made an announcement at the end giving her all the credit for it. They then headed back into the living room for coffee and dessert. Jake took a few of the men into his study and the remaining guests broke into smaller groups. It was on her way back into the living room with a fresh pot of coffee that Sean Connelly cornered her in the hallway.
“You look good, Meggie.”
“It’s Megan now. What do you want, Sean?” she asked, feeling her old rebellious side boiling up inside her. She needed him to know right now that her past was her past and that he wouldn’t be holding anything over her head. She had to make sure he understood he had no power over her.
“Well,” he said, no longer even feigning friendliness. He ran the tip of one hand down her bare arm. She physically shivered at his touch, revolted by it. She stepped back. “I’d love to talk about that actually,” he said, stepping closer. “Pick up where we left off that night you took my money but didn’t deliver the goods.”
“You got what you deserved and you know it. I could have called the police!”
“And said what?” he asked, stepping toward her, forcing her to take one back. “That I tried to rape you? It’s hardly rape when you pay for it.”
She clenched her teeth tight. She’d been so stupid, so fucking stupid. It had been once, exactly once. Josie had had this idea to make some money. Megan had just celebrated her eighteenth birthday. They’d both signed up for this escort agency. She had known what it meant even though she had tried to play it off as something else. She had turned down five calls before she finally said yes. She was scared to death that night. She still remembered that feeling in her stomach and it made her want to vomit even now. Josie had done it a few times. She had made $50 in tips each time! Back then, it was a lot of money and she had needed the money. Her parents were barely able to pay the rent and she was hungry. One stupid fucking night. She hadn’t even gone through with it. She hadn’t been able to do it. But still here she was, here he was. Her mistake, standing in the flesh, before her.
Taming Megan Page 6
