by M. S. Parker
“Come to my office.”
I stared at the receiver. He'd hung up. While that short sentence hadn't exactly told me much, the tone had spoken volumes. He was pissed. Anxiety knotted my stomach. I'd seen Rylan mad before, but never directed at me. This was it then, the end. That had to be why he wanted me to come to the office. He'd planned on breaking up with me over lunch, but I'd thwarted that, so this was how it would be done.
I kept my shoulders back and my head up as I rode the elevator to his floor. Once he was finished, I'd tell him that I was going to take the rest of the week off. I'd find something to do. Maybe start looking for another apartment. The best thing about living in a college town was that there were always places for rent. With that plan firmly in mind, I walked into Rylan's office.
He was waiting by the conference tables rather than back at his desk, his eyes dark, his expression serious.
“You lied to me.”
My eyes widened. “There really is an issue with the–”
“Not about that.” He waved a dismissive hand and took a step towards me. “You were acting strange all day yesterday and even more so last night at the party. I kept asking what was wrong and accepting those bullshit excuses you gave me. I haven't been able to sleep the last two nights because I've worried about you.”
Guilt gnawed at my stomach, combining with the anxiety until I felt like I was going to throw up. He'd been worried about me?
He reached out and I flinched involuntarily. Pain flashed across his features and he dropped his hand.
“I did hurt you, didn't I?” he asked softly, a sick expression coming onto his face. “I never should've pushed you to try any of those things this weekend.” He raked his hand through his hair.
“No!” I blurted out the word. “You didn't hurt me.” Watching him beat himself up over something he hadn't done tore at me. I closed the distance between us and put my hand on his cheek. “I swear, Rylan. I enjoyed it all.”
“Then what happened?” he asked. He put his hand over mine. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said and sighed. “You didn't do anything wrong, and that's the problem.” He looked confused so I continued. As much as I hated baring my insecurities, I hated the thought of him thinking this was his fault more. “It's me.”
“Jenna, talk to me. Please.”
“Being at that party last night reminded me how much I don't belong in your world.” I took the easy way out.
“My world?” He rolled his eyes. “Jenna, that is so not my world. Just because I have money and my parents like to pretend they're high society doesn't mean I'm anywhere near that world. I wasn't poor growing up, but until my dad married Suzette's mom, we weren't rich. He's a doctor, but not some specialist or surgeon. My mom worked part-time too. Suzette's mom is the one who has the money. And even that's new money. Trust me, Lara's family didn't like me even after I made my first million.” His eyes narrowed and I watched it click. “That's what this is about really, isn't it? Lara.”
Damn him and his ability to read me. “She's gorgeous,” I said.
“I would agree with you, but I think that's probably not a good idea.” He tilted his head. “Are you jealous?” He didn't sound like the idea bothered him much. If anything, he almost sounded pleased.
I dropped my hand and looked down, heat flooding my cheeks. “She seems like she's a much better match for you. She's beautiful, sophisticated, moves in all the right circles. No one looks at her like she's a freak.” My eyes burned, but I refused to let the tears spill over. As much as I loved him, I hated that he could do this to me. “And there's no way she has as much baggage as me. She's so much better for you.”
His arms wrapped around me, but I didn't look at him.
“I figured you'd see it last night. That you'd regret breaking up with her and want her back.”
His laughter stopped me. It was a low rumble, gentle and without a trace of mocking. “Jenna, look at me.” The words were quiet, but I heard the command in them. “Look at me.”
I raised my head. Despite his laughter, his expression was serious.
“Lara and I started dating when I was twenty-two and she was eighteen. We were together for two years. She's the only woman I'd had a serious relationship with. I thought I was going to marry her.”
I didn't want to hear this. I wanted to leave, to run out of the building and never come back. As if he could hear my thoughts, his arms tightened, holding me where I was.
“I went to our apartment one night, excited to tell her about this big, beautiful house I wanted to buy. I just knew that was where I would raise my family. Then I walked into the bedroom and saw her with our neighbor...Cassandra.”
I frowned, sure I had to have misheard or misunderstood.
“Lara broke up with me, Jenna. Because she's a lesbian. She'd thought she could make it work because she really did love me, but she realized she couldn't pretend anymore. Not for her family and not even for me. She broke my heart, and I was angry with her for a while. About a year ago, we saw each other at a party and got to talking. We're friends, but it'll never be anything else.” He kept one arm around my waist as he raised his hand to twist a chunk of hair between his fingers. “And I don't want it to be anything else. You're the only one I want.”
Relief flooded through me, so intense I had to close my eyes. He didn't want Lara, even if he could've had her. I felt his lips on my forehead and I put my hands on his chest. Even through his shirt I could feel the heat of his skin.
“Now.” The tone of his voice shifted and I felt my body respond. “We both spent a lot of unnecessary time being upset. I think you need to be punished for not talking to me about this earlier.”
I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He was definitely in Dom mode. A thrill went through me.
“I think I should spank you.”
Well, damn. This was not how I saw this conversation going.
I knew he was waiting for a response. We'd done a bit of pain play with nipple clamps, but he'd never broached the subject of any sort of spanking, flogging or any of those types of things. His collection in his play room told me that he was into that sort of thing, but it was an area we hadn't ventured into yet. I hadn't been sure how I'd react when he did finally bring it up. I'd been forced to act out plenty of 'naughty schoolgirl' or 'punished by daddy' scenarios that the idea of spanking was definitely a trigger for me.
But so was being tied up.
I let out a slow breath. “Okay, but this is yellow territory.” Yellow was our safe word for taking things slow.
He nodded. “Set the boundaries.”
“No bending over the knee or saying I was a bad or naughty girl,” I said.
“Understood,” he released me. “And you say 'red' if it's too much.”
“I will,” I promised. I took a step as my pulse began to race. “Tell me what to do.”
Chapter 5
“Bend over the table.”
I did as I'd been told. I put my palms flat on the table and waited.
“I'm going to pull down your pants and your panties,” he said. “So I can feel the heat of your skin against my palm.”
I loved how he did this, told me what he was going to do. He didn't make it a question, but it let me know what to expect so I could stop him if I needed to.
His hands slid around my waist, fingers teasing at the skin just above my waistband. His hands moved under my shirt, across my stomach and up to cup my breasts over my bra. I'd gone with simple today, just black cotton, but he didn't seem to care.
“Let's get those free.” He made short work of the front clasp and then his hands were on my bare flesh.
I moaned as his hands covered me, squeezed me. His fingers played with my nipples, tugging on them until they were tight little points. His body curled over mine and I felt his cock, hard against my ass.
“Now for your punishment.” He scraped his teeth across the shell of my ear and my fingers flexed against the ta
ble.
He straightened and I missed the weight of him immediately. It was odd, I thought, how someone who'd spent her whole life hating people being close, who had panic attacks when an individual crowded her, could actually want to feel the press of another's body.
His hands returned to the front of my dress pants, fingers deftly working open the button and zipper. Cool air caressed my skin as he pulled my pants down to mid-calf. I shivered as his hands slid back up my legs, over my ass and to my hips where his fingers hooked into the elastic waistband. I felt him press a kiss against one cheek and then the other before pulling my panties down to where my pants were. I was a bit surprised he didn't take them off completely, but I wasn't about to argue.
“Such beautiful skin.” His hands moved over my ass and up to my back, fingers not shying away when they skimmed the scar on my side. “Let's see what shades of pink we can get it to turn.”
He started off with a light smack, barely enough to feel, and I relaxed. Already, I could feel the difference. In the past, it had just been a spanking. A real one, meant to hurt and humiliate. There was no warming up. A second light smack on the other cheek and I felt myself starting to get wet.
The next one was a bit harder, a slight sting before my skin heated up. The fourth made me gasp and I felt him hesitate.
“Don't stop.”
Pinpricks of pain shot through my scalp as he grabbed my hair and used it to turn my head towards him. His eyes were burning as he claimed my mouth in a rough, bruising kiss. He was still dressed but, as he pulled away, I could see the clear outline of his erection straining against his slacks. I didn't need to ask if he was enjoying himself.
I cried out as his hand came down again. The pain was more intense, but still well behind the point where it was unwelcome. My ass burned as he spanked me again and again, but there was no denying the slick wet between my thighs. I let out a shuddering breath as he stopped. I heard a zipper and then the ripping of a condom wrapper.
“I'm going to fuck you now,” he said. “Hard and fast.”
I nodded. My brain swam in the mess of chemicals flooding my body. I could barely think of anything beyond relieving the ache between my legs. I hissed when his hands slid across my ass to get to my hips. I didn't have the time to process much of the sensation; it was immediately overshadowed by Rylan pushing his cock into me.
“Ahh!” I moaned as he worked his impressive length inside, a relentless forward movement that forced my body to stretch to accept him without pause. And it wasn't just how deep he was going. His girth was such that, in this particular position with my pants keeping my legs from spreading, I was almost too tight.
“Damn,” he groaned as his hips came to rest on my ass. “Like a fucking vice.”
I flexed my muscles and he cursed again, the word half-strangled. His fingers dug into my hips and he pulled back until just the tip was inside, then surged forward. I was immediately glad that the offices were empty because I let out a wail that at least the floor below us would've heard.
As he established a rhythm, his hands moved from my hips to under my shirt. Every thrust was hard and fast, driving into me even as his fingers manipulated my nipples. The angle caused him to rub against my sensitive ass, sending painful pleasure coursing through me. As he began to twist and tug on my nipples, ripples became waves and then a flood.
I cried out as I came, my eyes squeezing closed as every nerve in my body began to sing. I gave myself over to the sensations, letting Rylan coax every last drop of pleasure as he drove into me in search of his own release. His hands tightened painfully on my breasts as he said my name and I felt his cock pulse inside me.
“I love you,” he whispered, pressing his lips against the side of my neck.
“I love you, too.” I turned my head so that my mouth could find his. I took his bottom lip between my teeth, then pulled it into my mouth, sucking on it even as his tongue traced my top lip.
After a moment, he broke the kiss and straightened, sliding out of me with a moan. My knees shook at the sudden emptiness and my arms were weak as I pushed myself into a standing position. I started to bend down to pull up my pants, but Rylan put his hand on my wrist.
“Allow me.” He pulled up my panties first, letting his hands linger for a moment before reaching for my pants.
I sucked in a breath as the cloth slid over my ass. Rylan paused with his hands at the small of my back.
“Was it too much?” He shifted out of the authoritative mode that he used when he dominated me and into the concerned tone he took on afterwards.
I shook my head, reaching down between us to do up my pants. I smiled at him. “Sitting's not going to be fun.” I reached up to run my fingers along his jawline. “But every time I do, it'll remind me of what came next.” I pushed myself up on my toes and kissed his cheek. “And I enjoyed the entire thing.”
“Including...?” he started to ask.
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Yes. All of it.” I tilted my head. “I might have to think of more things I can do so you can punish me again.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist, careful not to touch my ass. “All you ever need to do is ask.”
“I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about...you know.” I flushed with embarrassment. “I should have. I'm just new to this whole relationship thing. And I didn't exactly have a lot of good examples to follow either.”
“It's okay,” he said. “I'm not an expert on how this all works either. Like I said, Lara was the only other real relationship I've had and I didn't figure out she was a lesbian until I saw Cassandra going down on her.” He gave me a wry smile that said he was well past the hurt. Then his expression sobered. “We'll figure it out together, but we have to be honest with each other.”
“I'll try,” I said.
He pulled me closer, but not so close that I couldn't look at him. “So, now for the other reason I asked you to come up here?”
I raised an eyebrow. “It wasn't just because you wanted a piece of my ass?”
He laughed and ran one hand down to cup my sore ass. “That was definitely the main reason, but it wasn't the only one.” He returned his hand to my waist. “What are your plans for the holidays?”
Okay, a turn in conversation I wasn't expecting. “Same as always,” I said. “Pizza or take out, some junk food and movie marathons.”
“I know you're not comfortable enough to meet my family and Suzette is, well...”
He hesitated and I wasn't about to fill in the blank. The choice words I had for his half-sister were far from polite.
He sighed. “She's not exactly fond of you.”
That was an understatement.
“None of that changes the fact that I want to spend Christmas with you.”
My eyes widened and panic fluttered in my stomach.
“But I'm not going to ask you to come to my parents' place. I want our first Christmas together to be special, not uncomfortable.”
First Christmas. My heart did a funny flip. That implied that there would be a second, maybe a third or more.
“I would love for you to come to the house on Christmas Eve and spend the night. I'll have to see my parents for a couple hours on Christmas Day, but I want to come home to you and finish out the holiday, the two of us.” He sounded confident enough about what he wanted, but I could see a hint of something in his eyes. It wasn't doubt about me or wanting to be with me. Instead, it was doubt about my answer.
“You want to spend Christmas with me?” I heard what he said but I wasn't quite sure I could believe it. “Won't your family be upset?”
“I don't spend Christmas Eve with them anyway,” he said. “And if they have a problem with me only staying a couple hours, oh well.” He shrugged. “I'm an adult.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to say that to them when they ask why you're leaving early?”
“No,” he said. He pulled me closer. “I'm going to tell them the truth. That I have an amazing, beautif
ul woman waiting for me at home and I want to be with her.”
I flushed at the compliment. I'd heard men spout all sorts of shit over the years, but it was nothing compared to hearing Rylan say it. He meant it, and that's what mattered.
“I'd love to spend Christmas with you.” I pulled his head down and brushed my lips against his. I couldn't believe I was going to have a real Christmas. “Do you have a tree?” The question came out almost shy.
“Of course.” He looked amused, and then gave me a puzzled look. “Don't you?”
I shook my head. “Never really saw the point of it. Pay for a tree and buy a bunch of ornaments that don't mean anything so I can stare at it for a month, then take it down? It's not like I have presents to put under it.”
He leaned back against the table and pulled me between his legs. We were eye-to-eye now. He put his hand on the side of my neck, his thumb moving back and forth across my pulse point. “Do you do anything special for Christmas? I mean, you were in a couple group homes, right? Didn't they do something for the kids?”
“Some of them tried,” I said. “But it usually consisted of charity gifts around a plastic tree that we decorated with cheap dollar store ornaments. It wasn't like I was with a real family or anything.”
“So you don't have any special Christmas memories?”
I looked down as his words brought with them an unintentional flood of memories. Memories of various men dressed like Santa Claus, ready to give me whatever Santa gave a good girl, or a naughty girl, depending on what they'd arranged with my mom. When I was a teenager, more than once I'd had a panic attack while Christmas shopping simply because a Santa greeted me or got too close.
“Hey, I don't know what you're thinking, but forget it.” He pulled me forward so that our foreheads rested against each other. “Forget all that. Everything that happened before is done and over with. It's you and me now.” His gently pressed his lips against mine. “We'll make our own Christmas memories. Good memories.”
I leaned into him, my mouth a hair's breadth from his. “Naked memories?” I teased.
“Damn straight.” He grinned at me a moment before closing that last little bit between us.
