Auctioned to the Spanish Dom [The Spectrum Auctions 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

by Doris O'Connor

  His callused hands framed her face and his crystal blue gaze searched her face as though she was one of his suspects under interrogation at the police station, and not another sub, flung over the shoulder of her Dom.

  Her Dom. Now there was a thought. As much as Peyton enjoyed her smutty stories, the kinkier the better, she’d never have thought that statement would ever apply to her.

  “How are you holding up there, Peyton?” he asked. “You looked pretty overwhelmed on that stage.”

  Seemingly not satisfied with whatever he saw in her expression, the steely command behind that tone of voice would have done any Dom proud. It seemed you could take the cop out of the police station, but not out of the man.

  She offered him a weak smile.

  “She’s fine, boy, and none of your concern.”

  Pedro’s clipped tones should have been the end of that conservation, but Mike ignored him, and leant in closer, so that only she could hear his next words.

  “Don’t let him bully you into anything you’re not sure about, and use your safewords if you have to.”

  Scarlett’s red-tipped fingernails appeared in view and Peyton barely suppressed a wince when she dug those nails into Mike’s forearm. Spots of blood appeared under the crescent indents Scarlett left behind on her sub’s skin, and bile rose in Peyton’s throat. That was definitely one of her hard limits, she decided. Had she put that on her form? She must have done. There was very little she had said yes to, so why then had Pedro bid for her? It just made no sense.

  Mike didn’t seem to care about the fact that his Mistress was literally drawing blood, because he winked at Peyton and let her go. The chain round her wrists tightened anew and she slumped back over Pedro’s back. The new me, a sack of spuds.

  Peyton sought refuge in humor. Anything to keep her sanity, because that damn man was now patting her ass. Light taps only, but they still sent heated arousal through her veins. She would disgrace herself if he kept that up, and she froze when he grazed his fingers along the seam of her slit underneath her sodden underwear. Shit, now he’d know exactly how wet she was.

  To make her humiliation complete, he seemed to be showing his fingers to Scarlett, if his next words were anything to go by.

  “Does this look as though she’s not enjoying herself?” Scarlett laughed and Mike grunted as though in pain. Heaven only knew what the woman had just done to him.

  “So tell your bloodhound to lay off. I do know what I’m doing,” Pedro said and resumed the slow, far too arousing taps on her butt.

  “Of course you do, Pedro. You will keep out of Master Pedro’s business, brass, is that clear?”

  Peyton swallowed hard at the sharp tone of voice she used.

  “Yes, My Lady. I was only concerned, because I remember how overwhelming this can be at first.” Mike’s reply sounded strained as though he was indeed in pain and then he expelled an audible sigh of relief.

  “I know, Mike. It’s the only reason you’re not already in a cock harness.” Again Peyton had to clamp her mouth shut to stop herself from reacting, and Pedro’s shoulder’s shook as he laughed.

  “I do like your style, Scarlett, but I think your toy still needs punishing. That glare on him is something else. If I wasn’t busy with my own one, I’d offer you a helping hand.”

  Mike swore and coughed, but you could still hear a very distinct, Fuck off.

  “Hmm, you might be right on the punishment bit, Pedro, but you’ve already had your birthday present, so go on and enjoy her. I shall do the same with Mike here. Up you come.”

  It was his birthday? Had this all been a setup with her as the clueless present?

  The click clack of Scarlett’s heels faded into the distance and Pedro turned to face the other wall. Rapid beeps of a keyboard entry pad being pressed later, and Peyton faced the pristine stone floor of what she assumed must be Pedro’s private dungeon.

  He set her on her feet, tucked her hair behind her ears, and tipped her chin up, all the while keeping a firm grasp on her still bound wrists.

  “Now, for that present,” he said. “Time to get started, pequeña.”

  Chapter Two

  Peyton looked about ready to bolt again, and Pedro resisted the urge to adjust his hard dick away from the zipper of his trousers. The way those blue eyes flashed fire as she defiantly looked up at him did something to him.

  “What did she mean?” Peyton all but spat the words at him and yanked on her wrist chains. An involuntary wince escaped her and she took a step back when he placed his large hand over her wrists.

  “Easy, there, pequeña. You’ll hurt yourself like that.”

  Peyton huffed and blew the strands of her hair that were once again falling over her face away.

  “And? I’d have thought you’d get off on that, so why is that a problem?” She tried to yank her hands away, and Pedro frowned at the angry chafe marks he could see as the chains stretched her delicate, pale skin. Whoever had been in charge of putting on the chains would need reprimanding. They were far too tight, and he cursed under his breath for only just noticing.

  Peyton paled and tried to step further back, but her back made contact with the spanking bench, and she froze.

  “Stop moving, and let me get these off you.” He flicked his gaze up to hers, and the surprise in her eyes stunned him. Was she really this clueless, and if she was, why the fuck had she signed on for this? He freed her hands in a few practiced movements and Peyton jumped when the chains fell to the floor with a heavy thunk. She balled her hands into fists, and he didn’t miss the way the pulse at her wrists jumped like crazy when he bent his head.

  Pedro licked the delicate, red area, and inhaled her sweet, barely there floral scent.

  “Wha-What are you doing?” Her breathless question made him smile. Instead of answering her, he uncurled her fingers one by one and ran his tongue up and down each digit before biting down gently on each tip. Peyton wobbled on her heels, and he grasped her hips and set her on top of the leather bench. She squealed in surprise, and he pulled her forward and spread her legs so that he could step right between them. Her feminine musk filled the air, and he flicked his gaze up from her fingers to her rapidly heaving cleavage. The sight of her nipples poking through the fabric of her dress made his mouth water.

  He resumed nuzzling along her wrists and up the inside of her arm. Having released her other arm, she placed that hand against his chest, as though to push him away. Instead her fingers curled into his shirt and pulled him closer. Pedro doubted she was even aware of her involuntary reactions, and he resumed his slow exploration of her exposed skin, until he reached her neck. One hand fisted in her hair, he licked along the sensitive skin and bit down.

  Peyton tensed, but her fingers tightened further in his shirt and her hips ground against his groin in a seeming effort to get herself off. He stilled her movements with a hand on her hips and tilted her head further until his lips hovered over hers. Peyton opened her mouth on a groan as he increased his hold on her hair and bent her backward, until it was only his strength that stopped her from toppling off the narrow bench.

  “Proving a point, pequeña.”

  He licked across the contours of her mouth and Peyton opened further, welcoming him to taste. Pedro slipped into the moist depth and grunted his approval when she kissed him back with all the passion he knew she was capable of. A whimper escaped her when he withdrew and bit down her plump bottom lip.

  They stared at each other for a while, her passion-filled gaze slightly unfocused, and Pedro took a deep breath. Pulling her up into a more upright position, he stepped away to give himself some breathing space.

  Joder, if she didn’t make him want to fuck her right here and there, but he wanted more from her than just a simple fuck. The mere thought should have made him end this right now. Pedro never involved his emotion in a scene, but Peyton’s underlying vulnerability and her responsiveness to him reached deep into the lonely part of himself. With both Slade and Scarlett having
settled down, he’d had reason to examine his life lately. He wasn’t getting any fucking younger. A man’s fortieth birthday did that to him, it seemed.

  Pedro ran a hand through his hair and regarded the delicious morsel sat on his spanking bench through hooded lids, and adjusted his throbbing dick.

  Peyton’s gaze snared on his crotch and she licked her lips, making him even harder. Yes, it would be so fucking easy to take her, but god help him, he wanted more with her. Peyton King had held his interest ever since he’d first caught sight of her in her tight little skirt and professional blouse, hovering outside Scarlett’s hospital room, clutching her notepad.

  She was here now, at his mercy, and he would give her a taste of what it meant to be his sub, without complicating this with sex.

  “Pedro?” Her hesitant question tore at his gut, but he crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow at her.

  Heat rose in her cheek and she added a hasty, “Sir?”

  “Better, pequeña. Let’s not forget the basic rules. Is there something you want to ask me?”

  Peyton squared her shoulders, and he could tell by the suddenly defiant tilt to her plump mouth, that she was starting to feel more like her normal self.

  “She said it was your birthday, and I was your present. Is this whole thing a setup?”

  Pedro grinned and she glared at him.

  “Hardly. I seem to recall I had to part with a lot of cash to win you. There would have been far easier ways to give me a present, but, being that you were there on stage, naturally I had to have you.”

  “Why?” she asked with all the tenacity of a bulldog with a bone.

  Pedro considered his answer for a minute. It would be easy to spin her a line, but he didn’t want to do that with her, so instead he smiled.

  “Let’s just say, you fascinate me.”

  Peyton snorted and then paled when he picked up his abandoned crop and tapped it against his boots.

  “What are you going to do with that?” she asked, panic evident in her voice. “I’ve put that down as a hard limit, didn’t I?” Her eyes grew wider when he swished the crop through the air with enough speed to make a faint whistling noise, and she jumped out of her skin when he slapped the leather right next to her thigh with the end of the crop. It made a rather satisfying noise and the sadist in him enjoyed the way she grew even paler and squirmed on the bench. “Didn’t I? Sir, please.” He brought the crop down twice more, the last time perilously close to her naked thigh, and Peyton froze.

  He ran the tip of his favorite implement up her bare arm and flicked the hair off her face.

  “Breathe, pequeña.”

  Peyton gulped in air, and he waited for her to compose herself.

  “The crop makes such a nice sound, especially when it hits flesh. Hold your hands out for me.”

  Peyton shook her head, and he tipped her chin up to study her face.

  “Put your hands out or use your safeword. Not obeying my instructions is not an option. Not while we’re here. Consider this the start of our scene.”

  “Scene?” she echoed. “What if I don’t want a scene?”

  Pedro stepped back and crossed his arms.

  “Then use your safeword and stop wasting my fucking time, Peyton.”

  * * * *

  Oh Shit. She’d pissed him off, but he was confusing the hell out of her. One minute he was tender and attentive and turned her on so much she was all but ready to jump him, the next he turned into this overbearing Dom. He scared the crap out of her when he looked like that, and turned her on in equal measures. Her panties had long since given up the fight to even try and contain her wetness. This whole thing was a mindfuck of epic proportions, but then again maybe that was his intention all along.

  Pedro had gone so still waiting for her answer, she couldn’t be sure he was even still breathing. His black hair hung round his face in straight lines, and his brown eyes bored into her. Flecks of yellow showed round the irises, and the tic in his jaw gave away his irritation. The man was altogether too damn handsome, with his aristocratic features and that dimple in his chin and the laughter lines around his eyes.

  Peyton had never noticed them before, nor the slight grooves running down from his nose to the corners of his sensuous mouth. She grew warm inside at the thought of that mouth on hers. God, the man could kiss, and he smelled divine. All earthy male, with a hint of sweat and that spice cologne he favored.

  She briefly wondered how old he was. Older than she first thought him, to be sure. The beginnings of stubble showed on his square jaw, and she bet he had to shave twice a day. He was just so…so Domly. She sniggered inwardly at her choice of words and Pedro’s other eyebrow rose. Come on, you want this, don’t you? Think of the article.

  Taking a deep breath, Peyton held out her hands and some of the tension left Pedro’s frame. There, she could do this. Surely it couldn’t be any worse than being rapped across her knuckles with a ruler. That had been her mother’s favorite punishment.

  Peyton’s hands wobbled at that thought, and she sucked in a breath when Pedro’s warm hand closed over hers. He was so much bigger than her, his olive skin such a contrast against her own milky white flesh, that her insides tightened in need. If only he wasn’t this Über Dom and she’d met him at a bar or something.

  “Shut your eyes, pequeña.”

  His voice took on that deep, soothing quality that dripped into her consciousness like molten chocolate and made her want to do whatever he asked of her. A most curious sensation that she had no explanation for. According to the psychological tests that had formed part of her assessment for the suitability of being put up for auction, she scored high on the submissive part. Peyton had scoffed at that, but, right here, now, she wondered whether they hadn’t been right after all.

  Pedro ran his fingertips over her wrists again, turned her hands palms up, and she fell further under his spell.

  “That’s it. Trust me. Now hold still and feel the kiss of the crop.”

  Sweat broke out on her forehead and every muscle in her body tensed in the flight-or-fight response when she heard the whistle of the crop. Oh, god, that’s going to hurt.

  Instead of pain, however, there was only the whoosh of air and the lightest of raps across her palms.

  “Good girl. Hold still for me, or I’ll have to tie you down.”

  Peyton squeaked as he repeated the move time and time again, until she relaxed. Only then did the crop bite into her palms, but the slight pain grounded her, in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible.

  All too soon, he stopped, and then there was the feel of his lips on her hands.

  Somehow she managed to pry her eyelids open and the sight of his dark head bent over her hands gave her the most curious flutters inside her belly.

  By the time he licked along the last angry mark on her palms and looked up at her, she was so aroused, she rubbed her thighs together in a vein effort to soothe the throbbing between her legs. This shouldn’t be this erotic—should it?—but when he bit down on the fleshy part where her thumb met her palm, that sharp sting shot straight to her clit.

  Pedro’s eyes gleamed with barely hidden excitement and she swallowed nervously when he smiled.

  “Now, that wasn’t so hard now, was it? Shall we try and see how much more you can take?”

  Chapter Three

  Pedro waited for her answer, every muscle in his body taut. The rational side of his brain did think it was rather ridiculous how much this meant to him, and he completely refused to overanalyze this. Training subs was what he was good at it, and it gave him great pleasure to see a newbie fly, but there was more at stake here.

  Far more than he was willing to admit to himself, right now, so instead he concentrated on reading Peyton’s body language. Breath coming in short gasps, she looked up at him with a wide-eyed, stunned expression, and he didn’t miss the way she clenched her thighs together.

  He put his hands on her knees and pried them apart. Soft skin greeted his fi
ngertips and he let his fingers trail higher, up the gentle slopes of her inner thighs, which trembled slightly under his digits. Oh yes, it wouldn’t take much to get her off, but his pequeña still deserved a punishment, and a little orgasm denial would go a long way to achieve that.

  He pushed higher, underneath the elastic of her lacy underwear, until his fingernails grazed her wet slit, and Peyton’s head fell back and she clutched at his shoulders, trying to grind herself against his hand.

  She was utterly stunning as her arousal built in waves, and Pedro drank in her little needy moans and sighs as he exerted just enough pressure against her clit to keep her hovering on the edge.

  Peyton bit her lip and almost leapt off the bench when he sunk two fingers knuckle-deep into her cunt and finger fucked her with slow, measured thrusts designed to drive her wild.

  “God, yes…yes…I need to…harder, please…”

  Her voice trailed off into incoherent sobs when he withdrew. She tried to get herself off, but, when he pinched her nipples hard through the fabric of her dress and pulled at them, she stopped and slapped his arms instead.

  Her beautiful eyes so dilated they looked more black then blue, she tried to prize him off the stranglehold he had on her sensitive flesh, but Pedro just tightened his grip and pulled harder, while rolling the flesh from side to side.

  “No, I can’t, you bastard, please…”

  Pedro caught her mouth in a bruising kiss, and she whimpered into his. Breaking the kiss, he hovered over her lips, enjoying the feel of her beating pulse under his fingertips, the fact that she was at his mercy and squirming on the edge of painful arousal.