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Kiki's Millionaire

Page 9

by Patricia Green


  “Elephant?”

  “It’s a safe word, meaning that since you sometimes say ‘no more’ or ‘please stop’ but you don’t really mean it, you have a special word that really does mean stop. You say it, and I stop. Then we talk about what happened.”

  “I get it. It gives me a little control.”

  “In a way, but you have to take it seriously. If I think you’re trying to control me and your punishments by using the word too frequently, then we quit the spanking games altogether.”

  “But…”

  “No buts. Respect the word, and use it if you have to, but recognize that there’s a price attached if you use it too often. It could mean that we break up.”

  “Wow.”

  “You know, Kiki. If you decide the spanking thing isn’t for you, then breaking up is probably a rational solution.” He could feel his heart tighten at the idea, but he wanted to be honest with her. Spanking was a part of him. He didn’t approve of undisciplined women, so he imparted some outside discipline on them when they needed it. And spanking during sex was just plain fun.

  She seemed to be thinking about the safe word concept carefully. “Okay. Elephant, right?”

  He nodded. “Elephant.”

  “I thought you…”

  He waited. “You thought what?”

  She rested her head against his shoulder. “I thought you’d use your hand like you did before.”

  “I will use my hand. But only to warm you up. Then we’ll try the cane. I think you’ll like it.” He wasn’t about to tell her than he’d used it before with good results on other women. He wasn’t a kiss-and-tell kind of guy. But the upshot was that he had some experience with the tool and would be able to use it competently and confidently.

  “Okay.”

  “Are you relaxed?”

  She squirmed against him and he found that he could be even harder. It was a surprise. “As relaxed as I’m going to get. Can I climb on? Will you let me ride you?” Kiki took him in hand.

  Before she could make things happen too fast, he grabbed her wrist and pulled it aside. “Not yet.” He nodded toward the edge of the tub. “Get up on the lip.”

  It took her a moment to get situated with her butt on the lip and her legs hanging into the water. The light from inside the Jacuzzi gave her fair skin an ethereal bluish tinge. She was so beautiful. Like an angel. “Open your legs, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes went a little dreamy, and she did as he told her. Jim waded over to her and pressed her thighs apart, going up on his knees on the pool’s shelf. He kissed between her breasts, his hands taking each perfect, small globe in hand, kneading, rubbing gently at first and then with more vigor. Kiki dropped her head back and sighed softly.

  He applied his lips to a nipple and she sighed louder, then squeaked a little when he bit playfully. Her breasts kept his attention for several minutes, until she began to pant. And then he moved his kisses down her stomach, licking at her softly padded hip bones. She said his name tenderly, encouraging him.

  Her lightly furred muff was calling him with the umami aroma of excited female mixed with clean, ozonated water. His fingers traveled down her belly and over her thighs, then gently opened the petals of her secret flower. She was wet with slippery welcome and he was in no mood to decline the invitation. First one finger then two glided in and she opened her legs wider.

  When he licked at her pink-lipped pussy, she gasped and moaned. Leaning back on one hand, she put the other in his hair. Her fingers combing over his head encouraged him to lick harder, and he circled her clit with his tongue, purposely keeping his caresses off her swelling bud.

  “More,” she pleaded.

  His answer was to piston his fingers in and out of her faster. She groaned and squirmed.

  It took nearly all of his self-discipline not to rise out of the water and fill her with his aching dick. But he had more in mind. He removed his fingers and put one more lick and kiss on her belly.

  “Turn over on hands and knees, Kiki.”

  “What?”

  “Hands and knees, sweetheart. I want to see your beautiful ass.”

  “I need to come, Jim. Please.”

  “Soon enough.” He encouraged her with a little push against her hip, and she rolled over onto all fours, offering her round behind.

  Jim smacked her ass with the flat of his hand, and the sharp crack was clear over the sound of the bubbling water. Fortunately, there were no neighbors to hear it.

  She gasped and squirmed as a pink handprint formed on her butt. Again he spanked her, leaving another handprint, this one on the other side. Kiki’s pants and moans came faster, matching the pace of his slaps. Her butt became warm to his touch, and he slid his hand down and used his fingers to fuck her once more.

  “Yes!” Then she groaned when he removed his hand.

  He chuckled, and reached for the cane. Taking a position near her hip, he struck her firmly on her hot, pink behind, and a streak of brighter color formed in a line across her wriggling flesh.

  “Ow!”

  Striking her again got a moan and more squirming.

  After a few more times, she was pressing her face down into the towels and sobbing. “Oh God, oh God, oh God!”

  “Does it hurt good, baby?”

  Her voice was thick when she answered, nodding her head. “Oh yeah!”

  Jim applied the rod another eight or nine times, then tossed it onto the deck, admiring the symmetrical stripes up and down her ass, sit spots, and thighs. She was exquisite and he was nearly bursting with need for her.

  Without waiting another minute, he pulled her into the water, pressed her front up against the side of the tub and rammed himself home in her tight, hot sheath. Her body tensed in his arms, and he felt the beginning tightening of her vagina around him.

  “Do it, baby,” he said, encouraging her.

  She pushed back against him and they paced each other, faster and faster. He sweated, even in the water, and her moans got louder, accompanied by heavy pants. When he reached around and rubbed her clit, she ground her hips back and cried out. “Jim!”

  Her body tightened in a series of spasms around him, milking his dick like a strong, smooth fist. “Oh yes, baby!” He didn’t hold back, letting himself release into her and the orgasm was strong, an electric shock through his balls, curving his spine as he arched his pelvis toward her.

  As they began to relax, she leaned forward, gasping for air, and he bent over her lithe back.

  “Don’t ever stop spanking me, Jim,” she whispered.

  He had to strain to hear her. “Never, pretty girl.”

  Chapter 7

  “I need a new dress.” Kiki was digging through her suitcases—she’d refused to take a space in Jim’s more-than-ample closet. “Damn.”

  “Language,” he reminded her, coming up behind her to cup her breasts. He wriggled them as though they were animated and spoke with a Mexican accent. “Dress? Dress! We don’t need no stinkin’ dresses!”

  Laughing, she covered his hands with her own and leaned her head back on his chest, responding to her “talking” breasts. “Oh but you do, boobies.”

  “That blue one looks nice on you,” he whispered in her ear.

  A shiver of pure lust traveled through her torso, distracting her from her problem for a moment.

  “If you need a dress, sweetheart, go and get one.”

  She stepped away from him, focusing on her suitcase again, unwilling to meet his eyes. “It’s not that easy, Jim.”

  “Sure it is. Have Ernie take you to Saks, find a dress you like, put it on my account and voila!”

  “You know I can’t do that,” she reminded him.

  He frowned down at her. “You mean you won’t do that.”

  “Ernie can take me to Walmart. I’ll find something there.” And I’ll look like a transient prom queen.

  “You must be joking.”

  “It’s practical. I can pay for myself that way.”

  “Yo
u know, Kiki, this whole ‘do not be dependent on Jim’ thing is getting pretty tired.” He stalked away and sat in a wingback chair in the corner. The chair was too small for him and his shoulders didn’t quite fit. He twisted uncomfortably, finally standing up again and crossing his arms over his broad chest.

  She liked it better when he was sitting down.

  “It’s the way I am, Jim. It’s how I was raised. I have always only had myself to rely on. There was my mom for a while, but she was always so busy trying to keep us out of poverty. I dealt with my problems myself.” She turned away from him again. “I don’t know why it matters to you so much. You’re not trying to buy me, are you?”

  “You know I’m not.”

  “Well, then let me deal with the problem my own godd- gosh darn way.”

  He frowned mightily, but didn’t argue any further.

  The next day, Ernie drove her to a little boutique in Los Gatos where there were used dresses on consignment. Over the last few years, she’d found several gems there, and she wasn’t disappointed this time. Although it took a chunk of her savings, considerably more than Walmart would have set her back, she got a pair of two-year-old designer dresses at a fraction of their original price.

  Consequently, she wasn’t ashamed accompanying Jim on his weekly trips to Los Angeles to oversee the eminent release of his new computer hardware line. Maybe her dresses weren’t the latest, chic fashions from Paris, but then, she wasn’t the latest chic supermodel either. No one at any of the cocktail parties was out-and-out rude to her, though some people were more challenging than others.

  The first of Jim’s women was particularly annoying. She’d sauntered up to Jim and gave him a big hug and air kisses, then held his face and kissed him right on the lips.

  Kiki tried not to frown, tried to behave as though it was normal for a tall, blonde, fashion doll of a woman to come up and kiss her boyfriend on the lips.

  To his credit, Jim didn’t kiss her back, putting her away from him with both hands on her clinging arms. “Monica,” he said with a tight smile. “It’s been a while. Have you met my girlfriend, Kiki?”

  The woman blinked twice then pretended to look around. “No, Jim! Where is she?”

  Kiki nearly growled in response. “I’m Kiki.”

  Monica looked down, right down her nose, in fact. “Oh. Nice to meet you, dear.” She turned back to Jim. “So, how have you been, lover? We have so much to talk about! What have you been up to since Cannes?”

  Kiki could see Jim was both embarrassed and irritated by the way he gritted his teeth before he spoke. “That was last year, Monica.”

  “Has it been so long? I’ve missed you.” She raked her long, red fingernails down his suit coat. The material made a soft scritching sound. Leaning in, she said in a mock whisper, “Do you still have that little paddle with the leather cover?”

  Kiki knew she was meant to hear it, and her temper flared, both at Monica and at Jim. Obviously, she wasn’t his first spankee. Well, it wasn’t like she hadn’t known it intellectually. But to be confronted with his ex-lover like this really chapped her ass. Kiki squeezed her wine glass so hard she realized she might break it if she didn’t calm down.

  Jim must have caught Kiki’s look because he gave her a little shake of his head. “We’ll have to catch up some other time, Monica. Kiki and I were just on our way over to talk to Owen Namuth. I hope you’ll excuse us.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but took Kiki’s free hand in his and walked her straight over to the famous financier.

  Monica was only the first. There were three other such incidents in Los Angeles while Kiki was alongside.

  The night they ran away from a curvy redhead named Christa, Kiki confronted him. She tried to do it with good humor—these affairs were in his past, after all, something he couldn’t change—but she knew she sounded like a fishwife.

  “Another day, another drop-dead gorgeous fan!”

  He didn’t respond.

  “How many, Jim?”

  He hung up his suit coat in the hotel room closet. “How many what?”

  “How many women who know you are we going to run into at these affairs?”

  He had the grace to go a little red under his tan. “Not too many…more.”

  “My God! You were a fuckin’ machine!”

  He frowned and took off his shirt.

  Kiki tried to concentrate on their argument and keeping up her dudgeon even though the hard breadth of his chest distracted her.

  “Watch your language, Kiki. We might be in a hotel, but I can still paddle you.”

  “Like you’ve paddled all the rest? Can’t you think of anything new to do?” She knew she sounded snide. And jealous. And unreasonable.

  He pulled his belt out of his pants and Kiki quickly moved away, putting the big bed between them. All he did was sigh and throw it into a chair, though. His day-long beard sounded like sharkskin under his hands. “What do you want me to say? I’m not a monk.”

  She snorted. “That’s for sure.”

  “Come here, baby.”

  Kiki eyed him warily. He wasn’t prone to sneak attacks. She slowly rounded the bed and moved within arm’s length of him. He caught her up and pulled her against his bare chest.

  “They don’t mean anything to me. They never did. I had needs and they were available. They got what they wanted, and so did I.” He squeezed her. “It’s not like with you, Kiki.”

  Her irritability began to flow away like a smoke ring. “What’s it like with me, Jim?”

  “It’s special.”

  Special. What did that mean? Was this something she could hang a hope on? It was obvious that Jim could have affairs that didn’t involve his heart.

  How much of the distance between them was because of his dead wife? He never talked about Isabella--a person whom Kiki hadn’t been able to resist looking up on the ‘net. Just as Ginny said, when the beautiful woman had died, he had been painted as the broken-hearted widower by all the news outlets. It didn’t look like PR to Kiki. She saw the photos of him at the funeral. His face looked haggard, tired, grim. Later photos hadn’t been much better. It seemed like, slowly, slowly he’d gotten a little life back in him, but even his splashy associations with stunning women hadn’t made him look carefree. It was obvious that he still revered Isabella and made her his ideal.

  It was no wonder he’d never told Kiki he loved her. It was unlikely that he did, all things considered. And she was no supermodel. What could a man who had his pick among the most exquisite and wealthy want to do with Kiki Mackenzie? The question just kept rattling around in her brain.

  “I don’t understand you, Jim.”

  He tilted her chin up so that she had to look into his eyes. Their blue was mesmerizing. “Don’t you like being my special girl?”

  She pressed her cheek against his warm palm and sighed. “I’m a clumsy, ugly, bag lady in comparison to those women.”

  “Stop it, Kiki. You’re none of those things. I don’t like to hear you talk about yourself like that.”

  She loved him for saying that, but her love wasn’t enough. She just wasn’t in his league. The sooner he figured that out, the better it would be for him. As she closed her eyes and rested her face in his hand, she imagined him with Monica and knew, without a single doubt, that he’d never be truly satisfied with a woman like herself. Kiki was only doing them both a disservice by clinging.

  “But it’s true!”

  “One more word like that and I’m going to take you over my knee.”

  “That just proves my point. I can’t do one damn thing right!”

  Grooves formed alongside his mouth. “Enough!” He picked her up in his arms and took her over to the bed, tossing her into the middle where she landed in a sprawling heap of arms and legs. Her little slip rode up and exposed her polka-dot panties. “Hands and knees, Kiki.”

  She struggled up and began to scramble off the far side of the bed. “No!”

  “If you don’t do what you’re
told, and I have to come and get you, I promise you, it’ll be much worse.” His frown was mighty. Clearly, he wasn’t issuing an empty threat.

  Kiki stayed put but didn’t take the spanking position. “Just accept the facts, Jim. Once I take that job, the pity fucks will have to stop and you’ll move on to someone more appropriate.”

  “Pity fucks!” He stared at her darkly, then reached into his pocket and took out the oversized handkerchief he usually carried there.

  Kiki eyed him warily. “What are you doing?”

  “Close your eyes.”

  It was tempting to say no, but, hesitantly, she complied. What the hell was he doing by taking her sense of sight away? She felt his weight on the bed and then his hands on her face. He tied something around her eyes—the handkerchief. “There,” he said with finality as he checked the blindfold for a proper, safe fit.

  “I don’t like this.”

  “Tough. Get up on your hands and knees.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Spank you. I already told you I was going to do that.”

  “But I can’t see anything!”

  “Exactly.”

  “Jim…”

  “Do I have to wrestle you into the position?”

  “I…”

  “I won’t tell you again, Kiki.” His voice was controlled. He’d made his mind up. “Hands and knees.”

  Now, you’ve done it, Kiki. Backing down seemed like the smartest option. Tears already wetting the blindfold, Kiki took the spanking position and sobbed into the comforter.

  The bed wobbled as Jim moved. A weight was lifted and she could hear him walking away. She waited, crying, for a minute and then the bed wobbled again as he climbed back on.

  There was a loud slapping sound and she jumped. It didn’t sound like his belt; that had a more hollow sound. And, since this was a punishment spanking, he wouldn’t use his hand. He peeled down her panties and raised her slip up to her waist. The anticipation and mystery were awful.

  “You have to stop denigrating yourself, Kiki.” The air whooshed just before something connected with her butt. Hard. The burn was immediate and she whimpered. He spanked her several more times. Each time, the fire on her ass flamed and wasn’t allowed to recede before the next wallop.

 

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