We both begin to breathe faster as he handles me, and the rasping sounds are audible in the near silence of the bedroom. Am I out of my mind to be allowing this? Soon, very soon, he’s going to see how he’s affecting me. My slick lips are saturating the mesh of the miniscule thong as moisture gathers at my pussy.
I can’t take the embarrassment any longer and plead with him, “Please, oh God, I don’t even know your name, but please, please, you’re driving me wild. Please stop teasing me. We both want this. I’m aching and don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
Without missing a stroke across my nipples his eyes flick up to mine as he states, “You’ll know my name when I’m good and ready to tell you, petal. Now I want you to lie back, face up across my lap, girl.”
I know that within his embrace I’ll lose all restraint. This is really happening. It feels like a sensual, erotic dream come true. Girls like me, with neatly ordered lives, simply don’t end up in situations like this.
“This is your only warning, my sweet. I’m a patient man but I’m also a very firm Dom. I expect you to obey me.”
Shoving trepidation aside, I lean forward and slowly climb into his warm lap. As my hands touch his chest, his thighs, I’m amazed at his unyielding, firm physique. Please let me be able to get through whatever he wants from me. My need to come is reaching desperate levels.
“Very nice, sugar. Now lie back against my arm.”
Trembling, I do as I’m told and lie back against his muscled right forearm. He’s only been gentle so far. What lies ahead? Looking up, I become lost in his vivid blue eyes, set in the most daunting face I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s oval, with strikingly high cheekbones. The hard slash of a jawline is what makes this otherwise angelic face so intimidating.
As I drink him in, I notice that his lashes are full and dark, nearly black. They frame his eyes perfectly, eyes that could easily be considered sensually pretty if they were not so frighteningly stern.
The need to please him is strong. He is stunning and so hot in his forceful demeanor. This is all new to me but I’m eager.
He allows me to drink him in for several moments before his face slowly lowers, descending to mine. I remain immobile as his full bottom lip brushes, feather light, against mine. My body quivers with need. I’m near frenzied with lust. He pulls back slightly but remains close, hovering only two inches above my mouth.
“Wha-what do you want with me?” My voice sounds frustratingly weak, not forceful, which is what I intended. But he’s so all-consuming that I feel nearly helpless in his clutches.
“Shhhhh ….” he whispers as as his lush lips meet mine once again, pressing deeply this time in a claiming kiss. Instantly heat and his uniquely male scent flood my senses as I allow him to deepen the seductive kiss. Like I have a choice?
His tongue moves against mine, parting my mouth open for him in slow, tantalizing sweeps. One arm locks against my bare chest while the other firmly grasps my damp locks, holding me secure, locked in place for his pleasure.
This is so wrong on so many levels, but it’s rapidly becoming the most amazing kiss of my life. The blood rushing in my ears combined with my thundering heart fills my head. This situation is hotter than hell. More ….
My exposed nipples harden into tiny pebbles, aching with need. I can’t help myself as I begin to shift around a bit due to my heightened arousal. Will he notice? A secret part of me wants him to see the evidence of his touch.
Just as I’m falling further, nearly lost in the skilled, luscious kiss, he pulls away. “Face down across my knees, sweet petal.” There is no misinterpreting his meaning.
My eyes flare wide and I begin to struggle against him, suddenly afraid of what he might do to me. Will he spank me? I open my mouth to reason with him but he beats me to it. “No, no, Valla. Arguing will only earn you a more difficult time of it, girl.” He stills, remaining forever vigilant.
I screw my jaw shut, knowing that he’s the type of man who delivers on his promises. A full on Dominant. Never in my life have I been spanked, assuming that’s what he’s about to do to me. What if he really hurts me?
He’s so big and undoubtedly strong. What if he’s some sort of fetish weirdo? I know a lot of women who really enjoy being spanked, so surely I can take it? What if I even develop a taste for it? Heaven help me. I feel as if my libido is in a spin cycle with him at the controls.
Damn, I’m so aroused at this point that it’s nearly impossible to think straight. Seeing no way to get out of it, I hesitantly shift my body, turning over to lie face down across his hot, toned thighs. My breasts are dangling between the wide gap between his legs and I’m so embarrassed that an involuntary full-body flush sweeps across my pale skin.
I wonder if I am positioning myself correctly? Why in the world should I even care? His bizarre yet intriguing actions have me totally off-kilter. A palm touches the back of my head in a silent command to let my head relax and fall forward. My hair pools below me on the slate floor and I do my best to relax my neck.
His thick erection presses rigidly against my left side. I gasp when I feel it jerk once against my ribs. Heat is pouring off him, spurring my arousal on to near delirium. I shiver as one large, rough palm flattens between my shoulder blades. He has me essentially immobile and I’ve never felt so dominated in my life.
“Just to be clear, petal, I am punishing you because of the blatant disrespect you showed me in the bathroom earlier. If this, or anything that I do to you ever becomes unbearable—and it had better be if you have to use this—I want you to say the word ‘black.’ Understood?”
I feel as if I’m on a never-ending rollercoaster with him.
In a hushed tone I reply, “Yes.”
“Say the safe word out loud so I’m sure you know it.”
“Black. It’s black.”
“Very nice, petal.”
The delicate thong is ripped right off my hips in a single, rough yank.
“Oh!” I call out, a slight protest in my voice as I try to push back against his palm and turn around. I catch his eyes. Hard, so flinty and unyielding. His lips are set tight and he shakes his head once, back and forth. The meaning is unmistakable. Under no circumstances am I to question his actions. He is my master. I resume my position and do my best to calm down and relax, bracing for the unknown. Will he bring me pleasure?
He begins to softly rub my ass in slow, deliberate circles. Prepping me, warming me. His sexy frame is pulsing beneath me and I’m struggling to breathe properly as he begins to firmly knead and roughly fondle my rounded ass cheeks. A rough male sound erupts from him, close to a growling purr of sorts, so guttural that the animalistic noise must have been involuntary.
I should be terrified out of my skull, seeing as I’m about to be spanked by a stranger, but it’s exactly the opposite with this man. I whimper lightly from need and bump my butt up just a fraction. I hear his breathing change, becoming harsher now. Just as I begin to wonder if he’s had a change of heart, I jerk forward as a blazing shot of heat slams down against my pert bottom.
“Aghh!” I scream as I nearly wrench out of his hold. My ass stings with hot pain where he struck me.
“I expect you to hold as still as possible, petal,” he says, his voice hoarse and dark.
Immediately the blows recommence. They’re raining down on my bottom in ruthless, measured strokes. Just as I suck in air, another one falls, though thankfully not ever on the exact same spot. Not an inch is spared on his quest to show me who’s in charge. He’s covering me from the top of my ass to my upper thighs, and all I can feel now is an all-consuming burning that’s morphing into something deeper, sexual.
My pussy betrays me as I find myself clenching non-stop with the need for something hot to fill it. The thought of his impressive cock planted so deep inside me nearly has me pleading out loud. How in the world can I even fathom these thoughts right now? It has to be the blood flow that the spanking has brought to my pussy. Yes, that must be it.<
br />
At around stroke twenty it all abruptly stops and that daunting hand lies still against my scalding little bottom. As much as I attempt to hold them back, tears prick the corners of my eyes and begin to spill over, prompted by both the pain as well as the humiliation of the act. I try desperately to control the flow because I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me like this. How utterly humiliating to be dripping wet and totally stimulated, all from his hard spanking. My emotions are all over the place.
His daunting erection is throbbing against me, as hard as granite. I lurch out of his grip and fall onto the rug at his feet, panting and confused. What is happening to me? How sick am I to be on the teetering edge of an orgasm from a spanking? Fuck no, this can’t be right.
Sucking in a huge breath through my nose, I ask in a voice that is far stronger than I feel, “I suppose you feel satisfied with yourself right about now?”
The look he gives me shows that he fully expected me to lash out like that; it makes me feel like a petulant child. “Don’t fool yourself, petal, you’re just as turned on as I am by what I just did. My name is Judge, petal, Brocan Judge. Judge is what you will call me until I’m ready for you to refer to me as something else. At that point, my beauty, I assure you that you will be begging me to take you, hard. And you know that I’m capable of giving you the fuck of your life.”
My hand flies up to cover my open mouth. His bold statement has rendered me speechless.
His head inclines toward the bed. “Sleep now, girl, and I will not be pleased with you if you allow that little pussy of yours to come. I’m in control of that now, understood?”
Still incapable of a coherent answer, I stare at him as he stands, unashamed of the huge erection stretching the confines of his well-worn jeans. Another blast of heat lances through me as I think about what lies beneath those pants. Without a backward glance, he stalks out of the bedroom, closing me in again with a click of the tall door.
I allow my arms to go limp and flop back onto the soft fur. I try to forget the pain shooting through my tender ass. Screw him! No man is going to tell me how to behave, to deny me the right to pleasure. It’s my damn body!
I gently push myself up, thinking of my captor. What kind of name was Brocan Judge anyway? Was everything about him hot as sin? And how could I allow myself to feel so submissive when he was touching me, commanding me? It felt oddly natural. The thought sends me into a sexual whirlwind as well as confusing me beyond belief. I should be trying to find a way off this damn mountain, not playing sub for my kidnapper.
After standing and gently removing the beautiful, fitted lingerie, I cross toward the bed. A serving tray rests on the bedside table, holding a plate of fruit and a lukewarm bowl of creamy asparagus soup. He must have brought it in when I was showering. What in the world do I make of my captor, the perplexing man that wants me to call him ‘Judge’?
I hang the delicate garment in the closet and turn toward the tray. Famished, I eat the tepid soup. It’s actually quite good. Sleep is a long time coming for me as my head is filled with conflicting thoughts of both fear and fantasy.
Chapter Six
***
Deep Lake
I’m on a mission this snowy morning. Regardless of the undeniable attraction I have for Judge, I know that I have to escape from here. The situation is only going to escalate. One of us would end up getting hurt, and I have the distinct feeling it would be me. This level of play gets into your psyche, and I can’t afford that right now. I’ve already developed a heightened interest in him and we’ve yet to become intimate.
He’s bound to have a vehicle. He had to get us up here somehow. If I can get him to trust me, I can find a way to steal the keys. A simple, yet hopefully effective plan. With renewed hope and a refreshed outlook from so much sleep, I hop out of bed and push open the closet door. While searching the room last evening, I found that my clothing had been hanging there all along. My aqua sweater and jeans are arranged neatly on wooden hangers and my tall suede and shearling Merrell boots are resting on the floor beneath them.
A tell-tale flush spreads across my cheeks when I see the sexy Bordelle beauty hanging there. I can’t help it, I’m curious. Clothing in hand, I turn and cross to the fur rug. Lying exactly where it was flung is my little thong, now merely a shredded scrap. A shiver of delight goes down my neck as I remember his intensity. His power.
Once I’m dressed, I find a drawer in the bathroom with an unopened toothbrush and a full tube of toothpaste. I brush my teeth, wipe my lips, and place my hands flat on the granite countertop as I stare into the mirror.
“Outsmart him, Valla,” I say to myself. “Don’t let him win.”
My eyes tighten and my lips close in a determined line. I’m going to stand up to him and set this tangled situation straight. I mean, I could give him an out, right? Convince him that I’m not worth a lengthy jail sentence. I’ll tell him that if he agrees to release me, I’ll never tell a soul who was responsible. That’s more than fair.
Turning, I head to the bedroom door. As I crack it open, I hear him say, “Nah, mate. I’ll get her sorted. No worries, eh?”
What the fuck? He had better not be taking about sorting me!
I do not like the sound of that one bit! I push the door fully open and take a step into the vast living space right as he turns to me, cellphone in hand.
He tells the person he’s chatting with, “All right then, good on ya, mate. Ta.” Then he presses the button to disconnect and slips the black phone into the front pocket of his faded jeans.
Damn it, why does he have to look sexy as hell? Over a week’s worth of dark growth covers his manly face and the fitted black tee he’s sporting has my eyes darting all over him, drinking in the toned planes of hard muscle.
My courage from just a moment ago is rapidly fleeing. Before I lose my nerve I ask him in an even, direct tone, “Judge, when are you taking me back?”
He continues to stare at me with a grin on his face. “Well g’day, petal, you’re looking lovely and refreshed. Why don’t you sit down with me here at the bar and enjoy brekkie and a cuppa. I was just having a yack with my best mate.”
I puff out an annoyed breath. “What? Do you really expect me to eat with you after what you did to me last night?”
“You mean the well-deserved ass scalding I gave you, woman?” I gasp as he adds, “Actually, sweet petal, I insist.” He bows and makes a gallant gesture toward the table.
Aghast, I break eye contact and skirt around him, knowing that I’ll eventually be cajoled into eating with him regardless of what he does to me. Instead of answering him, I look around, curiously taking in the rest of the cabin. The space is hyper modern, with wide pieces of jagged gray slate as flooring. A ruby red and black Persian carpet blankets the entire living room area. The room is an open rectangle with glass on two sides, providing a breathtaking view of the rugged snowcapped Alps. They are incredibly vast and majestic. My heart drops because without a vehicle or his allowance, there’s little chance that I’m getting out of here. I don’t even know the distance to the nearest intersection. Crossing the room, I stare out at the surreal view for a long while.
A rich voice cuts through my thoughts. “Trust you slept well, eh, petal?”
Now I’m annoyed. Breakfast, pet names? Is he deranged? With a pad like this he’s most likely some sort of arrogant playboy who is used to getting his way with women. I’m not going to cooperate any further until he explains what is going on.
Turning around, I can’t curb the sassiness in my voice as I ask, “Why do you insist on calling me ‘petal’? Do you give all the women you bring here against their will pet names? Not to mention a selection from your stash of kinky underwear?”
His dark brows draw together. From the expression on his beautiful face you would think I had backhanded him.
I watch, fascinated, as his long arm extends out, pointing a steady index finger at me. “You’ll make up for that one soon, sugar,” he s
ays in an even, level tone. “And as for the pet name, it’s quite simple. You’re skin is as silky as the petal of a rose. I felt it when I placed you in my bed the other night.”
I blink as my heart skips two beats.
That was the second nicest compliment I’ve ever received. He must know how much I liked his answer by the pink flush that tinges my cheeks. I can feel them growing warmer the longer he stares at me.
He continues, “I don’t have to explain myself to you, but on rare occasions I have brought willing dates to my home. In fact, it’s been several years since the last time I invited any female here. And yes, I like submissives to dress for my pleasure. I work hard and have distinctive taste. Bordelle and a few other lingerie designers happen to be spot on. Does that answer your disrespectful question?”
I glance around, eager to neutralize the uncomfortable track this conversation has taken. I walk away from him, deeper into his living room. The space is dominated by two matching black leather sofas so wide and supple-looking that they almost beckon you to nap on them. A square glass-and-burnished-metal coffee table rests between them and the roaring fire to the left of the area is kicking off a healthy amount of heat.
I’m about to have a seat when he speaks softly.
“Come here, Valla. I would like you to eat with me.”
His outstretched hand beckons me to come to him. Hesitantly, I cross back through the room to stand by a tall, dark wood barstool beside a granite island. The kitchen is midnight black granite and the appliances are all stainless steel. Talk about a pimped-out bachelor chalet. What on earth does this man do for a living?
As I pull out a barstool I ask, “Why did you drug me again yesterday? Haven’t you heard of people OD-ing?”
Standing beside the open refrigerator door, he turns to face me and smiles. “Ah, merely a few additional sleeping tablets, my sweet. Harmless but just enough to keep you out of trouble while I had a rest. For your information, I wasn’t the bloke who drugged you the first night.”
Nabbed in New Zealand Page 5
