He kissed her again, urgently. It was raw, animalistic, possessive, and she clung to his dress shirt.
“I want you so badly,” he said against her mouth. “The paddling may have to wait.”
She hoped he was kidding. All that buildup just to be denied? “No, Jack. Please.”
He released her from his arms, grinning rakishly. “I just wanted to see if I could get you to beg. All right, then. Bend over the desk.”
Caroline stumbled backward a little, surprised by how quickly he’d pulled away from her. Charmingly deceptive asshole.
“Okay,” she stammered.
He looked down at the chair and picked up the paddle. She took a deep breath and didn’t say anything.
“If it’s too much, we will stop,” he said. “Immediately. This isn’t the same as you kneeling on a comfy bed or being on my lap. And it’s only five. No more, not even if you ask nicely.”
Caroline scowled at him and placed her palms securely on the desk as she bent over. “I’ve seen Secretary, Jack. I know what I can handle. Shut up and spank me.”
“Sometimes you have a really smart mouth, Mrs. McIntyre. I’ll find a way to deal with that later.” Jack grinned and folded his suit jacket, putting it on the desk in front of her. “Just in case.” He rubbed the paddle over her clothed rear. “I think you might not want a bare bottom for this.”
He thought wrong. She knew exactly what she wanted. “Pull my skirt up.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, plainly surprised.
He wouldn’t go easy on her. Having a naked ass would make it worse. “Yes.”
Jack hitched her skirt up, kissing his way from her thighs to her rear. “I love you,” he said quietly. “Count to five with me, sweetheart.”
He brought the paddle back and it landed on her ass with a loud thwack, throwing her forward onto his suit jacket. The blow was hard enough that her knees buckled. Jack put his hands on her hips to steady her, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder.
“Good girl. You’re all right. What was that?” he asked.
Caroline closed her eyes. The initial contact from the paddle had shocked her. She’d forgotten how much harder it was than his palm. And how much it hurt on bare skin. “One,” she said.
Jack swung the paddle again and the force lifted her off her feet, but her knees remained steady this time and her pumps miraculously stayed on.
“Two,” she said, tears springing to her eyes.
He kept one hand on her back to keep her in place, and repeated the process, harder this time. She clutched the suit jacket in her fists.
“Three,” Caroline rasped, letting out a small sob.
Jack gave her a few seconds more than he normally would have, caressing her back. He wouldn’t wait for a safe word or a sign to slow down. He’d do that on his own. “Two more, baby. You can do it. Do you want me to stop?”
For a brief moment she’d contemplated it, but that moment had passed. “No,” she whispered.
He swung the paddle toward her and her knees buckled again. She heard the whoosh in the air. The noise his momentum made. She was outside herself for a few seconds, sinking slowly, feeling that she was falling to the floor.
Jack caught her around the waist, pulling her back up. “One more, sweetheart. That’s all. Say the word if you don’t want to keep going.”
She remained silent, save for a sniffle or two. He held her down firmly, determined to keep her on the desk. The last blow was the toughest and Caroline screamed out in pain. Her entire body was trembling and there were tears running down her cheeks. She rested her head on the desk for a moment, inhaling Jack’s familiar scent from his suit jacket, crying softly. He put the paddle down on the desk next to her head and leaned over her ear, sweeping her hair back. He might not have been in a wholly controlling mood, but that wouldn’t stop him from staying detached. He’d check in. Maybe offer a little praise. But that was it. That was the game he chose to play. He knew she’d end it if she wanted to.
“You did very well, my love,” he said. “Even if you weren’t able to count the last two out loud. How did that feel?”
“I think five was enough,” she said weakly.
Caroline pulled her head up and Jack wiped her tears away. He kissed her forehead. “You’re so beautiful,” he said.
He started to massage her ass and she flinched. She wasn’t ready for that kind of comfort yet. She rested her head on the desk again. “Please don’t.”
Jack caressed her back until her trembling slowed. “Did you like that?”
“Yes.”
He gathered her hair in one of his hands and tugged at it gently. Not because he wanted to cause her further pain. No, this was his desire manifesting in a slight, somewhat expected gesture. “Turn around and look at me.”
Caroline lifted up her head. Jack had his cock in his hand, stroking it lightly, staring at her. His detachment had its limits, and he’d reached his furthest edge sooner than usual. He closed his eyes momentarily, measuring his words.
“Your poor ass is bright red. I’ll have to fix that when we get upstairs.” He moved closer behind her, his erection pressing against her backside. It stung, and she shuddered. “Spread your legs,” he said.
Caroline did as she was told. Jack teased her with his cock, waiting to hear her moan.
“Please don’t make me wait,” she whispered.
Jack pulled back and slid a finger inside her. “You’re so wet, baby. It almost makes me want to paddle you again to see what would happen.” He glided his finger in and out of her, pure torment as his hands would roughly graze her backside each time he pulled them out. He kept using his fingers, occasionally drifting toward her clit, until she was begging him to make her come.
“Not yet, sweetheart. But I think that’s enough teasing for now.” He entered her slowly, groaning in relief. He leaned over and put his hands over hers on the mahogany desk, beginning to move in and out of her. “I love you, Caroline. So very much.”
She lifted her hands up off the desk, grasping at him, trying frantically to get closer to him, to intertwine her hands in his, to beg him not to stop what he was doing, even though her ass smarted. “Harder, Jack. Please.”
He continued to ease in and out of her at an almost unbearably languorous pace, grasping her hands firmly in his. “All in good time. Let me enjoy this. Let yourself feel this.”
Caroline closed her eyes. He felt so good. Too good. She had no idea it could be this way, with anyone. She could never get close enough to Jack. Not when they were ripping each other’s clothes off, not when they were moving at a snail’s pace…it was never enough. He knew he made her crazy. He had to. It frightened her that she let another human being have that much power over her.
She thrust herself backwards into him, urging him to go faster, not caring about the pain. Jack kept up his steady rhythm as his breath started to quicken, until he pulled back and put his hands on her hips.
“You get what you want, tiger,” he said roughly. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to be dealing with more than a sore ass when you wake up tomorrow.” He sped up his pace, chuckling as she gasped. “Every move you make you’re going to think of me, wishing I was inside you.”
She doubted she’d be able to move at all at the rate he was going. Caroline pushed herself up on the desk and he reached around her breasts with one hand, continuing to assail her from behind. She could barely choke out the plea he wanted to hear. “Don’t. Stop.”
“We’re not going to be finished once we get upstairs,” Jack growled. “You haven’t had your turn yet. What do you say to a nice body massage and me burying my face in your pussy for an hour or so?”
How could she even speak after he said something like that? She managed to force a few words out. “Jesus, Jack. You know what it does to me when you talk like that.”
“I thought that was rather chivalrous of me.”
“You – talk – too – much,” Caroline panted in between his thrusts.
/> Jack removed his hand from her hip and pushed her chest forward on the desk. “So do you.”
He pounded in and out of her harder and harder like a jackhammer, which had always seemed like a porny move to Caroline but she loved when Jack did it. He was pushing her up off her feet with every thrust until her knees buckled again. It was almost too much but she didn’t want it to end.
Jack pulled out of her and rubbed his cock across the narrow crack in her ass. “You are incredible,” he said, fingering her clit. “I want you to come for me.”
Why had he stopped? She wanted him to keep fucking her. “Jack, no-”
He rubbed harder, sliding his finger in and out of her, then over her clit again. It was torturous. She could feel his erection moving up and down her backside. What was he doing?
One last twist of his fingers, one final sweet movement made her explode against his hand. Jack straightened up, continuing to massage her clit as she screamed his name. As her orgasm pulsed out of her she could hear him growling as he jerked himself off with his other hand, a stream of semen spurting onto the back of her lavender blouse. When he was finished he steadied himself on the desk. “Holy fuck, woman.”
Caroline gasped for air, trying to recover. “You owe me a new top. No fair. That was dry clean only, asshole.”
Jack started laughing and didn’t stop for a while, draping his hands on her shoulders and leaning into her. “Sweetheart, you say the most brilliant things after we play. You think our dry cleaner hasn’t figured out what we do during our down time?”
She laid her head down on the wood. “I’m not taking a spooge soaked shirt to the nice lady down the street who launders our clothes.”
“Fine, go get a new one. Same color.” He kissed the side of her head. “You know you thought that was sexy.”
“I would have preferred to watch you jack off instead of wrecking my clothes. Or, you know, would have rather had you inside me. Anywhere inside me,” she said emphatically.
“Well, shit,” he said.
“Your loss.” She smirked as he kissed her again.
Jack started to get up from the desk. The weight of his body against hers was the only thing keeping Caroline from crumpling to the floor. She grabbed his arm. “Help me up.”
He pulled her to her feet, holding her steady while he zipped up.
“Oh yeah,” she said. “You’ll want to put that back in your pants before we go upstairs.”
He patted her behind, smoothing her skirt down. Caroline winced. The game was over and naughty, filthy Jack turned back into concerned, overprotective Jack. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I might need some help getting to the bedroom,” she said. “I can barely move.”
“Can you sit down?”
“That would be a very bad idea.”
He guided her hands to the chair by the desk. “Wait a minute.”
She leaned over the chair, watching as he picked the paddle up.
“Wouldn’t want this to get misplaced again.” Jack pulled a hammer and a nail out of one of his desk drawers, giving Caroline a roguish look. “Here we go.” He went over to the wall and scanned it until he spotted the right free space. He pounded the nail in and hung the paddle up. “See?” he said triumphantly. “Now we’ll always know where it is.”
Caroline ran a hand through her hair. “You are so terribly immoral.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I simply wanted to have a reminder of my lifelong commitment to my fraternity brothers in my office. Something I can look at every day, particularly when my gorgeous wife is out of town.” Jack grabbed his jacket off the desk, throwing it around Caroline’s shoulders before picking her panties up off the floor and stuffing them in his pocket. “Wouldn’t want to misplace these either.” He put an arm around her. “Do I have to carry you or can you walk?”
Caroline stepped out of her high heels. “It’s best if I’m flat footed on the way up. But I’ll be okay. Didn’t you say something about a full body massage?”
Jack gave her a mischievous grin and scooped her shoes up in his hand. “Wait until we get upstairs.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chicago
Caroline didn’t want to get up the next morning. Not after that dream. It might have been the worst one of all. Even worse than dreaming about her children, as appalling as it sounded. She should have known that no matter what she did, she’d never be able to contain the memories. She wondered if there was a safe and expedient way to induce selective amnesia.
No, she had to press away the bad stuff and put one foot in front of the other. Gig was right; she had no other fucking choice but to keep going.
Once she dragged herself out of her bedroom the day passed quickly. They did their final checks and hit the road in the middle of the night. Less traffic that way. Easier to dodge attention. Caroline caught one last glimpse of Lake Shore Drive as they left the city and headed south down I-55.
The plan was to keep driving before stopping somewhere in Missouri and making a final push toward Oklahoma. Two days, if all went well. They weren’t going to rush and they weren’t going to take any chances. They’d obey the traffic laws, stop at rest areas and truck stops, and do their best to cross from state to state without being too conspicuous. Every one of the men took turns driving, rotating seats every time they stopped. Mostly because it wasn’t too much fun to be crammed into the back if you were stuck riding bitch.
“When does Princess get to drive?” Jones asked, after they’d stopped at a gas station in southern Illinois. Prices had been steep. Five bucks a gallon for gas. Caroline thought that was outrageous until Gig said it had inexplicably gone down from ten bucks just a few months prior. Another trick designed to appease the masses. Make the price of essentials drop and everyone stays happy. It disgusted her.
Gabe tossed her a look. “You want to take the wheel?”
She was panicked enough worrying about the journey ahead. It didn’t hurt to be honest. “The last time I drove a car, I crashed it into a tree.”
“Intentionally?” he asked.
She glared at him.
“Okay,” Gabe said. “It’s best for you to stay out of the driver’s seat anyway. Your turn, Jonesie.”
“My bad.” Jones caught the keys that Gabe pitched toward him. “Thought it might be fun for you.”
Driving was the last thing she wanted to do. She slid into the passenger seat. “Let’s get back on the road.”
They made it to Springfield, Missouri that night. They could have gone farther, but it was only a few hundred miles to where they were meeting up with their first contact the next day. They could take it easy and rest, then start fresh in the early morning. Gig went out in search of dinner as the rest of them settled in.
“You ever stay in one of these fleabag motels?” Gabe asked, after Crunch got in the shower.
It wasn’t much, but it was clean. They took cash and didn’t ask any questions. Caroline’s favorite kind of business. “Could be worse.”
“Princess here probably saw some pretty fancy shit in her day,” Jones said.
“I did,” she said. “But it was all manufactured. A place to sleep is a place to sleep.”
He tried not to laugh. “Come on. Some of those five star joints must have been pretty nice.”
Yet another thing she tried not to think about. That pampered life. Where she never had to lift a finger and if she did, it was meticulously manicured and never hardened by work. “They were,” she conceded. “But what’s the difference between clean sheets in a motor lodge with basic cable or in a high rise with mints on the pillow?”
“People treat you nicer,” Jones said.
Money, power, clothing, and ethnic background made all the difference at those places. Caroline always wondered how things would have gone if she’d ever walked into the lobby of one of Jack’s favorite hotels wearing her preferred wardrobe of a ratty hoodie and beat up shorts. “Does it make it right for them t
o behave better because you’re paying them more?” she asked. “Shouldn’t they treat you the same regardless?”
Jones smiled at Gabe. “Have I told you how much I like this lady?”
Caroline blushed. She wasn’t all that good at taking his compliments. “Why don’t you get us some ice?”
Jones gave her a little hug before picking up the ice bucket. “You gotta get used to us being nice to you,” he said quietly. “I’ll be back.”
“You okay?” Gabe asked, once he was gone.
“Not really,” Caroline said. “Do the guys know about my nightmares?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “But if they do, I don’t think they care.”
They were all in a shared room. It didn’t hurt to ask. “I didn’t know if they’d make a big deal if I freaked out tonight.”
“You’re going to be fine. I plugged in the nightlight. But if anything happens, they’re not going to judge you. You know that.”
“Sleeping with you helps. I mean, you know, being in the same bed, not-”
“I know,” Gabe said quickly.
Caroline avoided the topic of their relationship or lack thereof like the plague, and this was why. “I’m making a mess of things, aren’t I?”
Gabe took her hand. “You’re not,” he said. “I knew what you meant. If holding you at night means that you sleep better, I’ll do it.”
She’d done all right during her two solo nights in Gig’s apartment, even if she hadn’t slept much. But she had no way of knowing how she’d react in another strange environment. She had no choice but to lean on him again. “I don’t want anyone to feel weird. And I don’t want to keep you up at night. I just-”
“They understand,” Gabe said. “We all do. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t want to help you.”
“And help yourselves,” Caroline said.
“Well, yeah,” he admitted. “We want to get where it’s safe.”
“Getting closer.”
“Just think, this time tomorrow night we’ll be in Tijuana. Then it’s smooth sailing.”
They were going to have to deal with a lot in the next twenty-four hours. Caroline hoped she was up to the task. “God willing.”
The Bellator Saga: The First Trilogy (Dissident, Conscience, and Sojourn) Page 89