Daddies of the Castle

by Adaline Raine

  “The first tingles.”

  “Good. Let me know when you need a refresher.”

  I most certainly will not , she thought vehemently as he once more took her hand and led her to a door at the back of the restaurant.

  Already the heat was spreading through her private parts. From experience, she knew that it would only burn hotter and hotter until she could barely sit still, but the pain was a strangely arousing kind, and the longer the sensation endured, the wetter she would be. How was she supposed to concentrate on making a good impression on people when she was being distracted by that?

  Withdrawing a key from his pocket, Landon unlocked the door and ushered her inside.

  Several people were seated at a long table, all of them turning to see who had just arrived. “This is Nayla,” Landon said, and Nayla wondered if she’d imagined the hint of pride in his voice. “Sweetie, go sit over there next to Silver. I just have to go wash my hands. Be right back.”

  A stunning blonde lifted her fingers in greeting and patted the empty seat beside her. Before Nayla could beg Landon not to go right away, he’d vanished through another door.

  Fuck .

  An impossibly handsome blond guy beside the woman who’d waved gave Nayla a wide, menacing smile. “I see you found your way out of the maze, little unicorn.”

  “You’re the wolf!” Nayla said in sudden recognition, and there was a smattering of laughter.

  “Amongst other things.” He winked. “Come and sit down. I don’t bite… hard.”

  Blushing to the roots of her hair, Nayla picked her way behind the occupied chairs and settled herself nervously beside the gorgeous blonde girl.

  “This is Silver,” the wolf—Master Trevor , she mentally corrected herself—said, “and this is my brother, Travis.”

  “Oh wow,” Nayla breathed, wondering for a moment whether she was seeing double, as Travis was absolutely identical to Trevor. “You’re twins.”

  “Lovely to meet you, Nayla,” Silver said in an Australian accent. “Gorgeous dress.”

  “Thank you,” Nayla said shyly.

  “I’m Sam,” said the hunky man sitting opposite her, whom Nayla recognized instantly. “I feel like we’ve met before?”

  “I’ve been here a few times. Not here, in this room,” she added hastily, “but here at the Castle. I’ve seen you around, I think.”

  “You probably have,” Sam said, not unkindly. “This is Hannah.” The lovely, slender brunette beside him gave her a smile. “And let me apologize on my brother’s behalf for dumping you in a room full of strangers then taking off without even making introductions.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Like I said,” Landon said, appearing beside Nayla to her utter relief, “I had to wash my hands.”

  “I thought I could smell Tiger Balm,” Travis said to peals of laughter, and Nayla wished the ground would just swallow her up.

  “Like you’ve never used it,” Landon shot back, unfazed. “Takes a connoisseur to know one.”

  “The banter takes a bit of getting used to,” Silver whispered in Nayla’s ear, “but they don’t mean it unkindly. It’s their way of accepting you.”

  Reaching down, Nayla squeezed the blonde’s hand in gratitude. Then she took a deep breath and looked around properly for the first time.

  The room was certainly impressive. Big enough to comfortably hold twenty or so people, it was lit by flickering torches, and the wall above the fireplace was dominated by a huge, erotic, oil painting of Roman soldiers and slave girls. Authentic-looking pillars completed the historical effect.

  Glancing around the table, she saw a few people she thought looked familiar, none of whom she had ever formally met before.

  “Thank you for agreeing to come have dinner with us,” Sam said, giving her a wide, genuine smile. “Landon tells me you’re going home tomorrow?”

  “I am,” she said, trying—and failing—to ignore the pang in her heart as she said it.

  “Duty calls,” Landon added. There was no missing the bitter note in his voice.

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “Work?”

  Nayla nodded.

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m an accountant.”

  Hannah whistled. “I admire people who are good with numbers.”

  “I enjoy it…” Nayla trailed off and gave a self-conscious shrug, wishing they could change the subject—as long as it didn’t revert back to Tiger Balm. Already the tingling had begun to die down. She’d been so distracted by her surroundings, she’d barely noticed it.

  “Nayla here’s a bit of a workaholic,” Landon said in the same snarky tone he’d used before.

  Opening her mouth to protest, Nayla was saved by Sam. “There’s nothing wrong with being dedicated to your career. As you probably remember,” he told Landon pointedly.

  There was a long, awkward pause, during which Nayla bit back the urge to defend herself. She and Landon had had long, arduous conversations about her job—or rather, her lack of any kind of life outside of what she did for a living. But the more she defended herself, the more she was secretly wondering if he maybe had a point.

  Truth be told, she hadn’t been missing it all that much over the past few days. She’d had one moment of weakness and checked her laptop while he’d been at the gym, but his reaction when he’d caught her had been worse than anything he could have done to her with a cane or whip.

  “I think we should go get ourselves some food,” Landon said tightly, turning to her. “You coming, doll?”

  “Sure.” She wasn’t really hungry but maybe when they returned from the buffet, the tension in the room would have evaporated somewhat, and their dinner companions would have moved on to other, more bearable subjects than her career and the fact that it was her last evening.

  Once they were out of the others’ earshot, Landon turned to her. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I didn’t mean to sound so… derisive.”

  “Thank you for apologizing,” Nayla said. “And it’s okay.” She forced herself to smile. “It’s not like I didn’t already know how you feel about my work.”

  Setting the plate he’d picked up back down, he reached out and took her shoulders. “Listen to me, sweetheart,” he said. “I want to make one thing clear. I don’t have a problem with your job. I wouldn’t give a damn what you did for a living—as long as it wasn’t the only thing in your life, and as long as you weren’t being taken advantage of.”

  Were the partners really taking advantage of her? Unwilling to dive down that particular rabbit hole, she said, “I understand. But hey, it’s my last evening. Can we just try to enjoy it and stay off the serious stuff?”

  He looked at her for a long time, his velvet brown eyes searching, boring straight into her very soul. Then he gave her his now-familiar, breathtaking smile. “We have a deal.” Leaning close, he whispered in her ear, “As long as you make sure to eat a healthy serving of vegetables.”

  Nayla giggled. “As long as I get dessert. Two helpings.”

  Landon rolled his eyes and kissed her affectionately. “Brat.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Thank you, Sir.”

  With a much lighter heart, Nayla picked up a plate and headed to the salad bar. Maybe this would turn out to be a good evening after all.

  Chapter 9

  T here was a deep, dull ache in his heart as well as his groin as Landon watched Nayla, naked save for the bangle circling her upper arm, on her knees before him, sucking his cock. She looked especially stunning tonight, and the pride he’d felt when taking her to meet his brother and friends had been unlike any he’d experienced before, not even with his ex-wife.

  Now, with her intricate up-do escaping from the pins, her cheeks flushed with effort, and her delectable lips wrapped firmly around his throbbing erection, he thought she’d never been so precious to him.

  There was so much he still wanted to do to and with her, but they were running out of time. Maybe he’d be able t
o talk her into coming back soon. Until then, he had to make the best of their last night together.

  “Keep your hands behind your back,” he murmured, threading his fingers through her tousled curls to guide her movements—and knocking loose a few rosebuds in the process. “Suck Daddy’s cock like a good little girl…”

  She usually hesitated for the briefest of seconds when he referred to himself that way, but to his astonishment, this time, she didn’t. Instead she let out a little groan—which went straight through him—and took him deeper into the hot velvet of her throat.

  “Fuck,” he growled, fighting to retain control. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer unless they changed things up. Gently but firmly, he withdrew his slick, throbbing cock from her mouth and ordered her to get on the bed on all fours.

  Once she had done so, he took a moment to admire the view of her heart-shaped ass, splayed open to frame the puffy lips of her labia. Shucking off the last of his costume, he prowled towards her and cupped her sex with his palm.

  “Still so wet, naughty girl,” he said, sliding his hand back and forth, reveling in the way her clit felt hard as a tiny pebble amid the otherwise soft flesh.

  She let out a guttural moan and buried her face in her arms.

  “Sensitive, doll?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good.” Two more liberal applications of Tiger Balm during dinner had worked their magic. Nayla’s face had been redder than her hair when he’d slicked her with it in full view of the other Masters and their dinner companions, but there was no mistaking the effect the balm had on her. She was soaking wet.

  “Maybe I should give you another dose of balm,” he said conversationally, “right here.” He poked the tight, puckered hole between her buttocks. “Give you a good, hard paddling and fill your little asshole with Tiger Balm so your bottom is on fire inside and out.”

  His words were met with another moan as she undulated her hips, grinding herself against his hand.

  “You like that idea, huh?”

  There was a long pause. Then a whispered, “Yes, Sir.”

  “I can tell. You’re leaking all over my fingers. But you’re not going to come, are you? Not unless Daddy says you can.”

  “Please.” She was writhing more openly now, practically humping his palm.

  “Oh, I know you want to… I know your little clit is all hard and swollen and aching for me. I can feel it, covered in your juice, sliding up and down my hand.” He was rubbing her faster now, increasing the pressure just a tiny amount. She was trembling with the effort to hold back. Knowing she couldn’t see his face, Landon allowed himself a sadistic smile. “But you’re a good girl, aren’t you? You wouldn’t be a bad girl and orgasm without permission, because you know what would happen then. You know Daddy would put a big, fat plug deep into your tight little ass, and then he’d make you bend over and hold onto your ankles, and he would paddle your bare bottom until it was bright red and hot and sore, and you were crying and begging for him to stop, promising to be good—”

  Nayla climaxed with a strangled moan, shaking with the force of it, her sex contracting so powerfully that she gushed into the palm of his hand. His cock straining toward his belly button, Landon ignored the urge to plunge himself deep inside her. Instead he coaxed every last pulse from her before bringing his slick hand down on her right cheek with a resounding slap. He’d forced her to come deliberately so he’d have an excuse to punish her.

  “I should take the cane to you for that,” he said sternly, spanking her again and again. “Coming like some wanton, helpless little harlot when I explicitly told you not to. You’re lucky I don’t have any of my canes with me.” Not for the first time, he cursed the fact that they were in her room rather than his own, where he kept a much wider variety of implements than would fit in his toy bag.

  “I have a cane,” Nayla said in a small voice. “In my suitcase.”

  Landon’s heart skipped a beat. “You do?”

  “Yes, Sir. Shall I go and get it?”

  Landon considered. He hadn’t taken a cane to her yet. The thought of leaving deep, scarlet tramlines across her ass, of marking her as his for at least the next few days to come, of giving her a reminder of him when she went home, was worth the brief interruption to their scene. “Please do. Good girl for being so prepared—although you might regret having told me about it before I’m through with you.”

  She scrambled off the bed and gave him a cheeky smile. “I doubt it, Sir.”

  Wanting to be at least half dressed for what he had in mind—he was well aware of the psychological effect of being completely naked while being punished by someone who was clothed—Landon remembered he’d left his slacks in the bathroom. “Hurry up,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” The gladiator costume he’d worn earlier was too much of a hassle to put back on without any assistance.

  It took him mere seconds to go into the bathroom, find his pants and put them on, but when he returned to the bedroom, Nayla was standing beside her suitcase, her phone in her hand, a tight, tense expression on her face.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  She was staring at the screen. “So many missed calls,” she muttered.

  “Your family? Has there been some kind of accident?” Landon went to her but when he tried to put his arms around her, she stepped aside. It felt like a punch to his gut.

  “Work,” she said absently. “Sorry, I have to check my emails.”

  “No, you don’t. Unless any of those missed calls are from friends or family, you do not need to check your emails.”

  It was as if she hadn’t heard him. “What time is it?”

  Landon clenched his fists, resisting the urge to shake her. “I’m not sure. Ten-thirty? Eleven?”

  He could see her calculating a time difference in her mind as clearly as if she were speaking out loud. “I’ll see what it’s about,” she said to herself, “then I’ll call them back if I have to. Although it is pretty late over there…”

  “Nayla,” he said, fighting to keep his tone even, “it’s late. You’re on vacation. It’s our last evening. You do not need to be thinking about work right now.” His head was pounding and he forced himself to take a deep breath, praying she would mind him, hoping beyond hope she would toss that fucking phone back into the suitcase, dig out the cane, and let them get on with their last night together.

  When she reached back into her suitcase and pulled out her laptop instead of any kind of implement, something inside him snapped.

  “I swear to fucking Christ, if you turn that thing on, I will be leaving,” he snarled.

  At least his threat got her to look at him for the first time since he’d re-entered the room. “Easy for you to say,” she said in an icy tone, “as caning me is your job . And fucking me afterward, too, for all I know. But tomorrow, I have to go back to the real world, and deal with the consequences of what I do—or don’t do—right now. I don’t have the luxury of living and working in a fucking castle. I’ve worked incredibly hard to get to where I am, and believe me, I wouldn’t have umpteen missed calls unless it was an emergency. You can either wait a few minutes while I sort this out, or you can leave. But I’m not risking my livelihood—not for you, not for anyone.” Without waiting for a reply, she carted her laptop to the bed, sat down, and opened the lid.

  Landon stared at her in disbelief, his mind racing, his fists still clenching and unclenching by his sides. “All right,” he said slowly, “I see how it is. Thanks for letting me know where I stand.” With slow, deliberate movements, he picked up his shirt and shoes and went to the door before turning to look at her.

  She was sitting on the bed, engrossed in whatever was on her screen.

  Resisting the urge to scream at her, to tear the fucking computer from her hands and fling it out the window, Landon swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat, and left.

  There was a bottle of Scotch in his room with his name on it.

  Nayla for
ced herself not to run after Landon as the door clicked shut behind him. There had been no mistaking the hurt on his face, but one of their most important clients had just been informed they were going to be audited, and her boss had told her in no uncertain terms that she was to be on call for that client immediately, ready to provide advice or documentation at a moment’s notice. Several requests for files had already come in.

  The clients, being exceptionally wealthy, worked long and often crazy hours, which meant Nayla had to, too.

  Besides, she had meant what she’d said to Landon. It was easy for him to tell her to simply forget about her work while she was at the Castle—he didn’t have to worry about losing his job and everything he’d worked for by spending time with her, as that was his job.

  Swallowing her anger and hurt, wishing there was a minibar in her room, she settled herself back against the pillows and got to work.

  The first fingers of dawn were already lightening the sky when she awoke with a start, wondering for a moment where she was. She must have dozed off—the laptop was still open beside her. She was still naked, so she slipped off the bed and went to her suitcase to get her robe.

  Her favorite cane rolled out from under some clothing as she rummaged for her dressing gown, and she stared at the implement for several seconds, fighting back the tears. If only he’d cared enough about her to wait. If only he’d accepted her situation and explanation and spent the night with her anyway, even if that meant he had to read or otherwise occupy himself while she worked. If only…

  Blinking furiously, she shoved the robe back into the suitcase and tugged out some panties, yoga pants, a sweater, and shoes instead. She was leaving, there was no point in pretending otherwise.

  All good things have to come to an end , she told herself ruefully, pulling on her clothes and marching into the bathroom to pack her toiletries and drag a comb through her hair. Under different circumstances, things might have ended differently, but wasn’t that always the case?

  At the end of the day, she and Landon had had a nice time together—a great time, she conceded—but it was never going to go anywhere. She didn’t have time for any kind of serious relationship, and besides, they had never really discussed feelings. Don’t forget you were assigned to him , she told herself for the millionth time. You’re a client for him, nothing more. Later on today, he’ll probably go into Master Marshall’s office and be assigned to the next girl. Or he’ll go back to the Nursery and take care of the Littles there .