Bared and Tamed

by Kallista Dane

  He chatted about random matters as though his companion was not seated with her bare breasts practically resting on the counter, nipples once again hard. Tonight he was barefoot, dressed in a pair of tight, faded jeans and a soft blue t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. His skin was smoothly tanned even this early in the season and she wondered if he’d spent the weekend by the pool after she left on Friday night. Powerful arm muscles flexed casually as he moved. Rylie was certain he worked out regularly. No one could maintain that kind of hot body lifting files and carrying nothing heavier than a laptop.

  She tried to match his nonchalance, but she found herself staring at his crotch while he moved around the outdoor kitchen, as though it was he who was naked. Though she’d had him deep inside twice now, she had yet to see his cock. She’d felt its rigid length, the thickness that filled her. But she longed to look at it, to touch it, to feel it throb in her hands, hot and ready, before he buried it deep inside her.

  She dragged her mind back to pay attention to her surroundings. He’d already set two places at the bar, complete with salads, silverware, and napkins.

  “Would you like a beer?” he asked. “It’s non-alcoholic,” he assured her. “Sometimes there’s nothing more enjoyable than kicking back at the end of a long day, grilling a big thick steak while you knock back a cold one. I have a non-alcoholic Burgundy if you’d prefer that. Ariel makes a good one. Their wines have come out on top in competitions against some of the best vintages. I enjoy them so much I find that I don’t even miss the alcohol.”

  Sullivan seemed determined to turn her into a teetotaler. Rylie grudgingly accepted a glass of wine. Hardly a connoisseur, she thought it was pointless to drink if you weren’t going to get a buzz. She tried to keep the look of surprise off her face at the first sip. Sullivan was right. The wine was very good. Later, she found herself saying the same thing about the steak, this time out loud.

  “Sullivan, you never fail to amaze me. You’re a da… a darn good cook.”

  He was sitting across from her at the end of the bar. He thanked her, smiling in amusement when she managed to catch herself before uttering the swear word. But Rylie found herself a bit disappointed when his eyes never once strayed to her breasts during the meal. After dinner, she offered to clear the table, then followed him to the office where once again he was strictly business for the remainder of her two-hour shift.

  They settled into a routine over the next few days. From nine to five, Sullivan treated her as a valued employee, giving her a variety of projects to work on and seeking her opinion frequently, both in legal matters and in other business decisions. When she arrived at his home, although she was expected to take off all her clothes the moment she arrived, he never made any mention of their previous sexual encounters, instead giving her routine tasks to complete or dictating correspondence. Rylie often found it hard to concentrate, her thoughts straying to their steamy interludes.

  By Friday evening, she could barely keep her focus on work. It had been a week since their last erotic encounter. Was he ever going to make a move? How could he continue to act as though everything was normal, while she sat here in front of him stark naked, her body aching night after night with the wicked desires he’d awakened?

  She was staring out the window, thinking about all the places his tongue had tasted on her body, when she heard his irritated exclamation.

  “Dammit, Rylie, I can’t send out this letter!”

  She snapped back to the present. He had a frown on his face, waving the top letter as he worked his way through a pile of correspondence she’d placed in front of him for his signature.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You seriously want me to tell my new client how much I enjoyed pleasuring his wife?”

  “What!”

  “That’s what it says right here.” He began reading out loud. “‘Dear Bob, I had a great time with Marlene the other night. I’m so glad I finally had the opportunity to eat her.’”

  She snatched the letter out of his hands.

  “You told me to write the usual ‘nice meeting you blah-blah-blah’ and that’s what I…” Her face fell as she read the words. “I meant to say you enjoyed finally getting the opportunity to meet her. Damn spell-correct,” she muttered under her breath, then winced, hoping he hadn’t heard it.

  “Your mind hasn’t been on your job the last few days here, Rylie. Maybe it’s time for me to help you focus. Do you need me to give you another spanking?”

  She stared at him in horror. “No! That’s not what I’ve been needing from you—I mean, I what I need is—what I want…” Her voice trailed off as she realized everything she said was simply making her situation more embarrassing.

  “You may not be willing to tell me what you need or want, but I’ll tell you what you’re going to get. You just earned yourself five whacks for that cuss word—and ten more for doing such a sloppy job of proofreading.”

  “Wait a minute! I just heard you use a swear word!”

  “You’re right, I did,” he replied absently. “But there’s no rule in place that says I can’t.” He walked to the couch. “Come here. I want you to kneel down on the loveseat and bend over the arm.”

  She walked hesitantly to the leather couch and knelt down on the cushion at one end where he pointed.

  “Put both hands over the side so they touch the floor.”

  She did as she was told, stretching her body so her bottom was poised over the arm, pointing upward, leaving her knees barely resting on the seat.

  “I’m going upstairs to get that hairbrush. When I come back, you’d better be waiting for me in this position—no matter how long it takes.”

  * * *

  Sullivan headed upstairs with a satisfied smile on his face. He’d been waiting all week for Rylie to make some mistake, to give him a valid reason to spank her luscious ass again. She was normally meticulous and painstaking in her work, but he was a patient man. He knew if he continued to keep her off-balance, keep her wondering when he would make another move, she’d eventually slip up.

  R. L. Duncan was one tough woman. He figured she’d had to be, to get as far as she did in a world filled with archaic stereotypes—stubborn old rednecks who thought women didn’t belong on the iron beams of high-rise office buildings under construction and certainly not in the boardrooms where they were planned. A woman like Rylie wouldn’t dare allow some man to start taking control in her life, no matter how much she might secretly long for it.

  It was that challenge that made Rylie so appealing. He’d seen her unwilling but intense response to his firm discipline, heard her breathless pleas when he finally brought her to the edge. Sullivan knew how hard Rylie had struggled not to give in to the forbidden need to let go just once, to put herself completely in his hands. She’d done it last weekend, and he’d allowed her to leave afterwards, knowing full well that as soon as she was alone, she’d regret her shameless behavior and build those walls back up. Ever since, she’d been treating him politely but coolly. Her behavior was businesslike, with no hint of the wild passion that had raged between them.

  All week, he’d kept his distance, but it had taken nearly every ounce of willpower he had. The woman was gorgeous. Striding around his house stark naked, big breasts waiting to be cupped again with his hands, that curvy ass swaying with every step, begging to be stretched across his lap. He was aching to spank her into submission, to ignite the fire that smoldered deep inside her. He wanted her hot and horny, needy and desperate, ready to explode with pent-up sexual tension.

  But she had to break down those walls herself. Dominating a woman like Rylie wasn’t about walloping her into submission. He wanted her to experience the freedom that lay in choosing to give herself totally to him again, as she had last time. Rylie had to be brought to the very edge before she would embrace her hidden desire to be mastered by him, before she could experience the thrill, the heady power that lay in complete submission.

  His Caroline had known the
secret—the real power in a D/s relationship was in the hands of the sub. He had belonged to her as fully as she belonged to him. Sullivan’s need to hear Caroline scream his name as he drove her to ecstasy in his arms had been more addictive than any drug. Rylie didn’t understand yet. She was unaware of the power she wielded in this budding relationship. For the first time since Caroline died, Sullivan was craving that high with another woman, hungry to engage in the delicious feast of sensuous delights that was the D/s dance.

  All week, he’d waited and watched. He knew Rylie would scorn his advances if he acted like every other man in her life had done. Besides, that simply wasn’t his style. So he held back, burying his need. If they were going to fuck, it would be because he’d gotten her to the point where she begged him to do all the things he was aching to do. Making her want him, forcing her to go outside her comfort zone and confront the dark desires he’d awakened, then knowing he was the only person who could truly fulfill them—that was his ultimate high. He’d loved Caroline from the depths of his soul. And it was because of what he’d learned about love from Caroline that he was able to realize the feelings he was having about Rylie went much deeper than raw sex.

  This woman was a formidable foe, a great business associate, and an even better friend… intelligent, witty, fun. Already he found himself staring at the clock every evening when he got home, waiting impatiently till six for her to arrive. What was worse, the house felt empty now when she left.

  But at this moment, he had her once again where he wanted her—kneeling naked, anxious and aroused, waiting for whatever new experience he would bring to her tonight.

  * * *

  She heard his footsteps on the stairs. Every minute of waiting was a torment. For days, she’d been reliving the passionate moments they’d spent together. Her nerves were raw, her body on fire. She dreaded the harsh spanking that was to come, yet some part of her longed for it as well. Now, whenever she heard that commanding tone in his voice, a flutter of excited arousal welled up inside her. Before Sullivan, she’d never been made to do anything, never before felt the delicious thrill of bowing to sheer masculine power.

  She sensed his presence in the room before she heard a thing. He spoke from the doorway.

  “Good. You’re learning to do as you’re told.”

  Footsteps drew nearer and she shivered with anticipation when she felt his hand stroking her vulnerable ass.

  “You need an occasional reminder, Rylie, of what happens when you ignore the rules. For swearing you’ll get five swats with your personal implement of choice.”

  The first crack of the dreaded hairbrush had her biting her tongue to keep from yelling out an obscenity. He paused.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “One,” she managed to blurt out, torn between fury and dark desire.

  “That’s better.”

  The hairbrush connected again, and yet again. Rylie counted the strokes, forcing herself to remain in place between each wicked swing of the brush. Her ass was on fire. There was simply no getting used to the intense agony. No matter how often she experienced it, every lick seared her tender skin anew.

  This time, when she got to five, Sullivan put down the brush.

  “You have another ten coming,” he said, “for the mistakes you made in that letter.” But he made no move to continue. Instead, he came around the end of the sofa and stood in front of her. “Before I finish, I need you to tell me why you haven’t been able to concentrate on your work, Rylie.”

  He lifted her head, so she was kneeling upright facing him. He’d taken off his shirt upstairs and was wearing only a pair of tight jeans. She found herself eye level with his crotch, where a large bulge betrayed his state of mind. As though the harsh impact of the spanking had broken open the vault of secrets she kept deep inside, she found herself telling him the truth.

  Rylie licked her lips. “I’ve been thinking about all the things you did to me the other night,” she confessed. “How hot I got. How… how much I loved it. I’ve been sitting here stark naked, day after day, wondering how you could go on talking about business and dictating letters when all I wanted to do was see and touch and taste your cock for the first time.”

  “Now you’re being honest.” He unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor. Sullivan was already rock hard, his cock jutting out. “Is this what you wanted to see?”

  She nodded, unable to take her eyes off his erection. It was big and thick, and she shuddered, remembering how that hard hot length of him filled her.

  “And thinking about this is what has been keeping you from doing your job properly?” His hand moved up and down, stroking himself lightly as he spoke.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Now I understand.” He moved quickly, sinking down onto the sofa and pulling Rylie face-down over his lap. “First, you need to be spanked for your inattention. Then we need to remove that obsession from your mind, at least for tonight.”

  His hands began stroking, running up and down from her thighs to her waist. Rylie moaned softly and ground herself against his rigid member, loving the delicious sensation of skin against skin at last. When he spanked her, she jerked, shocked at the hard impact of a hand that had just been so arousing. But then his fingers started a slow journey between her legs. When he finally came in contact with her hot core, she was already dripping wet. He probed arrogantly with one finger, then stopped and gave her another firm whack.

  This time, the pain/pleasure switch tripped instantly.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  He spanked her again, half a dozen swift whacks, then went back to work, his hands performing their magic on her most private parts. Rylie writhed and gasped, opening her legs wide. She felt his cock pulsing underneath her, pressing up against her.

  He pushed her to her knees in front of him. “Touch me, Rylie. Taste me.”

  She’d never been so wanton. Eagerly, her hands circled his stiff rod. She swirled her tongue over the head, then licked her way down the rigid shaft and was rewarded with a low groan from him.

  Her body responded with a stab of lust. So that’s how it feels, she thought, wanting another taste of him, another jolt of the power she felt at breaking his iron-hard control for the first time. She bent her head and raised her eyes to his as she took him in her mouth.

  She wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock and began moving up and down, following the path of her hand with her open mouth. His eyes widened when she sucked the head, then flicked it with her tongue. He buried his fists in her hair, pulling her mouth down. She sucked harder. His hips bucked underneath her and all she heard was the harsh groan torn from deep in his throat.

  Just when she was sure he was about to climax, he pulled her head away.

  “Time to finish your spanking.” He pulled her back across his lap, his throbbing cock trapped beneath her. His hands delivered a volley of stinging smacks, followed by another dip into the fiery wet heat between her legs. This time it was Rylie who moaned, a primeval sound wrenched from her very core.

  As though waiting for that sign, Sullivan tumbled her to the floor. She closed her eyes, waiting for the moment when he buried himself deep inside her, and heard a muffled oath. Her eyes flew open to see Sullivan fumbling in the pocket of his jeans. He came out with a condom.

  Rylie was grateful that one of them had the presence of mind to use protection. She’d never been pregnant, but she was certainly still young enough to concern herself with the possibility. Like a teenager with raging hormones, she’d been so carried away with lust that she never gave it a thought.

  Her fingers joined his, fondling him as he rolled it down over his rigid cock. The moment’s pause seemed to restore his self-control, because instead of lunging into her, he grabbed both her wrists in one hand and dipped his head to ravage her with his tongue.

  She cried out, tiny animal sounds that only seemed to encourage him to drive her higher. Ever so slowly, he rose over her,
poised between her legs.

  “Look at me, Rylie. I want you looking into my eyes when you come this time.”

  He slid inside, one delicious inch at a time, never taking his eyes off her face. She was locked in his gaze, her eyes mirroring every sensation pouring through her body as he pulled back, then thrust again, harder this time. It felt like he was reading her reactions in the flickering of her eyelids, timing his moves to the pounding of her heart.

  She’d never had such an intimate experience, never been penetrated both physically and mentally at the same time. She stared up at him, lost in the depths of his warm blue eyes as he fucked her, slowly, deeply. Every other time with him had been frantic and desperate. She’d been taken from behind, then while she was blindfolded. Now he was requiring her to be here, forcing her to remain in the present moment, unable to retreat behind crashing waves of pure lust.

  “I’m fucking you now, Rylie. This isn’t some nameless, faceless fantasy you can disappear into behind the safety of that blindfold, like you did before, then walk out and treat me coldly later as though it never happened. You’re mine right now. You belong to me in this moment. Say it. Say you belong to me.”

  He kept up the relentless rhythm, stroking in and out, all the while spearing her with his intense gaze.

  “Say it.”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  “Say it.” His voice was hard, compelling.

  “I belong to you.” It was barely a whisper.

  He pounded harder, ramming himself deep inside. Rylie closed her eyes, only to whimper when she felt him withdraw.

  “You’re going to come for me now, Rylie. You can’t go away. You’re going to look into my eyes and tell me you belong to me—while I make you come.”