by Brianna Hale
“What a pretty sight you are,” he purrs, and rolls the condom on. Under his heated gaze, I grow bolder, slipping a finger inside myself, and then two, and he watches with close attention. Taking a deep breath, I sit up a little and pull off my T-shirt, and then my sports bra. The only thing either of us is wearing now is me in my sneakers.
I’m so wet that when the tip of his cock pushes against my entrance, the rest of him quickly follows. I throw my head back, panting at the feeling of being stretched and filled. Dom gathers me up in his arms, and then stands up. I squeal and grab hold of his shoulders. The squeal turns into a moan as I sink further down his length.
“Grab the bar over your head. Lift yourself up and down on me.”
I grasp the bar, and then glare at him. “Are you making me work out while we have sex?”
He grins at me. “Do as you’re told, peaches.”
He’s supporting most of my weight with his hips and his arms around my back. I lift myself up, and then slide down again—and then groan. He feels amazing. I do it again, and then again, not feeling the burn in my arms because I’m too focused on the slow plunge of his cock into my pussy. I move a little faster, and then a little faster. The hot, tight sensation in my core builds, and then I’m coming hard, grinding against him, my head thrown back.
Exhausted, I let go of the bar and Dom catches me against him, his cock still deep inside me. He turns me around in his arms without putting me down or withdrawing, until I’m facing the other way, my legs squeezing his thighs. He supports my weight with his hands around my hips like it’s nothing.
Jesus, he’s strong.
“Hold onto my arms, peaches,” he growls.
I reach back and grip his forearms just above his wrists, and he starts to pound me. I can do nothing but hold onto him for dear life as he takes control, thrusting deep and fast, a brutal pace that my body responds to. I can feel another orgasm building and I revel in his rough, hard treatment, arched back against him and completely vulnerable.
“That’s it, peaches. Come for daddy.”
I whimper, my eyes closing as my peak rips through me. He comes with a roar, thrusting so deep it’s like he’s going to split me open, my climax gripping him with everything I have.
Dom pounds me lazily a few times more, breathing hard, and then sets me down carefully on my feet. Turning me around, he pulls me against him and kisses my panting mouth.
Yeah, I’m definitely going to be sore tomorrow, in places I wasn’t expecting it, either. But that was hella worth it.
Chapter Four
Dom
I take Amelia through to the bathroom and turn the taps on in the shower. I take off her shoes and socks, and then she keeps her arms wrapped tightly around me under the stream of hot water.
“You make me a bit crazy, peaches. You know that?”
“How crazy?” she asks me with a smile, peeping up at me through her lashes.
“Reckless crazy. Breaking my own rules crazy. Horny as fuck crazy.”
Amelia traces water droplets on my chest with her forefinger. “We haven’t broken them, daddy. Just bent them a little.”
I chuckle, reaching for the loofah and the coconut body wash. “Spoken like a proper little brat.” She breathes in deeply and closes her eyes as I rub coconut-scented suds all over her back, and her cute little ass.
“Mm, I thought I could smell coconut on you,” she says. “Do you do this often, then? Pick girls up at the gym and then invite them back for private sessions?”
“Before today? Let me think how many times…” I pretend to count back through my memory, getting the loofah between us so I can massage her tits. I was right. Her nipples are a beautiful peach color. Goddamn. “Exactly never. At my gym, or at the places I worked before this.”
I’ve been a personal trainer for ten years and never once have I behaved unprofessionally with a client. It’s just not worth the hassle if things go wrong. Amelia, though, has been the exception. She’s too good to resist.
Amelia gazes me. “Then why…?”
“Because I couldn’t help myself, peaches. When you glared up at me from that tiny pink chair, I knew I was a goner.”
She strokes her fingers down my beard thoughtfully, but she seems pleased.
“What about you?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I’ve barely even been with anyone, let alone picked a man up at a gym.”
“Oh?”
“Before today it would have been…” She looks introspective. “Exactly once. Six years ago.”
It’s my turn to look shocked. “Peaches. Baby.” I wrap my arms around her tightly, thinking back through her session. Was I too rough with her? “I’m going to be more careful next time.”
Amelia gives me a look that I can only describe as bratty as hell. “You think I’m going to break, daddy? I don’t want you treating me like I’m… like I’m…” She trails off, looking outraged.
“Like you’re what?”
“Like I’m frigid.”
Her cheeks blaze and angry red, and I know she didn’t choose that word by accident. “Who calls you that?”
Amelia shrugs angrily. “Everyone. At work, anyway. Because I’m so dumb about sex. I never really wanted it before, so I don’t know much about it, but that doesn’t make me cold and prickly. It would be dumber if I went about sleeping with people for no good reason, wouldn’t it? Well, I think so, anyway.”
Amelia’s staring up at me, defiant. Her hair is dripping, and I smooth it back from her face and kiss her tenderly. Her mouth is soft and sweet, and I take her ass in both my hands. My god, this girl is something.
I break the kiss. “You do whatever the fuck you want, and screw those assholes.”
Amelia gives me a sly look. “Did you just say I could do whatever I want, daddy?”
Ah, shit. “What I meant was—”
“Too late! No backsies!” Amelia crows and grabs the loofah from me, dousing it with more body wash and soaping up my chest.
Grinning, I shake my head at her. “You can try wriggling through any little loophole you find, but it won’t work. You already agreed to my rules, remember? Signed and sealed.”
She pouts at me. “Damn it. So I did.”
I turn her around and swat her behind. It makes a loud, wet smacking sound. “No bad language.”
Amelia dances on her toes. “Ow! Okay, okay!”
We take our time getting each other very clean, and then I help her out of the shower and wrap us both in fluffy white bath sheets. When she’s dry, I take her through to the bedroom and settle us both on the bed, Amelia in my lap.
“You’re just the cutest. You know that?”
Amelia swings her legs back and forth happily. “Who, me?”
“Oh, yes. I want to see you again, Little Miss Peaches. Here. At the gym. At dinner. In my bed. What do you think of that?”
“Yes, please,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I think you should know one thing, first. I’m a full-time daddy. It’s not just for the gym. If you’re bratty, if you’re mouthy, if you’re willfully disobedient, I will punish you.”
Amelia snuggles closer, rubbing the tip of her nose against my beard. “This is so lovely. I haven’t been asked out on a date in years and years.”
I take a handful of her ass and squeeze. It’s as if she heard the first thing I said and then ignored the rest. “I mean it. I’ll spank that little ass of yours bright red until you cry if I think you need it. Inside the gym and out of it. This goes beyond what you agreed to on paper. This is something bigger.”
Like the little brat she is, Amelia goes on choosing not to hear what I’m saying. “But I’m a good girl. You won’t have to do that.”
I put my head back and shout with laughter. “Oh, peaches. Thank you for the best laugh I’ve had all day. All right. Day after tomorrow, come to the gym for a proper session after you finished work. Then I’ll take you out for dinner, and you can ask me anything else
you need for your article.”
Amelia nods, her eyes shining. “Okay, daddy.”
When she’s like this, all cute and snuggled in my arms, I could almost believe that she will be a good girl from now on. Smiling to myself, I kiss her, wondering how long it will be before she’s bratty little Amelia again.
* * *
Two evenings later, Amelia stomps into the gym at her appointed time. I can practically see the black storm cloud boiling over her head as she stalks past me to the stationary bike. Without a word of hello, she starts pedaling like she’s in the final stage of the Tour de France.
I go over to her and glower. I never told her she could start her workouts without my say so. “Good evening, peaches.”
Her face softens a little as she sees me standing with folded arms by her side. “Hi, daddy.”
Okay. Not in full brat mode yet. Let’s see if I can pull her back from the edge before she really gets herself into trouble.
“How was your day?” I ask politely.
“Shit.”
I wait for her to apologize for swearing, but she sticks her chin out mulishly and stares into her reflection, ignoring me.
“I’ll give you three seconds to apologize for starting your workout without me and using bad language. One.”
Amelia stares straight ahead.
“Two. Three.” I stand back and point at the ground. “Off the bike. Now.”
With a huge roll of her eyes, Amelia stops pedaling and practically throws herself off the bike and into a bratty hip-popped, arms-folded stance. “What?”
Everyone in the room goes silent and stops what they’re doing. As one, they turn to the trainee who’s just spoken to me in the most disrespectful tone possible. I glare around at them, and they quickly go back to what they were doing.
Turning back to Amelia, I make an about-face motion with the tip of my forefinger and point toward my office. “Now, peaches. Unless you want me to do this here.” I lean down and murmur in her ear, “And you really don’t want me to do this here. Just try me.”
She goes a little pale, and then turns about in a half-hearted temper and stalks to my office. Some of the puff has gone out of her already as she’s realized her mistake, but I don’t give a damn. She’s overstepped a line.
When we get into my office and I close the door behind us, Amelia holds up placating hands. “Daddy, I’m sorry I—”
Yeah, that’s not how this works. I put a hand on her shoulder, spin her around, grasp a fistful of the fabric at the back of her leggings and pull them down to her knees, along with her underwear. Her peachy little ass is exposed for me, and she wriggles and squeals indignantly.
“Get off! Oh my god! Don’t you dare!”
Don’t I dare. As if her little bratty tantrum is going to frighten me. “I’m a good girl, daddy. You won’t have to punish me. What happened to that Amelia, hmm?”
I slap my hand against her bottom and give it a good squeeze. Such a lovely fleshy behind. She hollers at the top of her lungs. “Ow! You brute!”
“Squeal all you want. This office is soundproof.” I had the soundproofing installed so I could block out the pumping gym music, but here’s an advantage I didn’t consider.
“This is against your rules!”
I chuckle darkly. “Don’t you remember, babygirl? You’re a special case. What we have now goes beyond our original rules. We talked about this.”
Sitting down on my office chair, I drape her over my knee. Because she’s still twisting like a wildcat, I push her head to the floor so she’s almost upside down, and she has to use those flailing hands to support herself. That should mean she gives me less trouble.
Then she grabs my calf and sinks her teeth into it.
“Motherfu— Oh, you’re really for it now, peaches,” I growl.
“Go to hell!”
Her ass is about to go to hell. She’ll feel like there are flames licking at her flesh by the time I’m done with her. I spank her once and she screams.
“I’m sorry! Let me up!”
Amelia doesn’t sound even one percent sorry. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready to hear your apology, and you’d better be convincing about it. Until then”—I spank her again—“I don’t want to hear a peep out if you.”
I give her six good smacks, nice and slow, and her ass turns a beautiful shade of angry pink. I squeeze her ass and see that her pussy is getting shiny and pink with her arousal. Goddamn, that’s a pretty sight.
“Say you’re sorry and I’ll let you up.”
“Never!” she hurls back at me, furious now, as if she’d rather die than concede one inch of ground. “Never, never, never!”
I chuckle. “Yeah, we’ll see.”
I go for another six, good hard smacks that make my hand burn, let alone her bottom. There are tears running down her face and she doesn’t look the least bit stroppy anymore.
“Well?” I ask, pinching her red flesh.
“I didn’t even do anything!”
I go on squeezing her ass, because it just feels so good. “Let me explain. What you did was come into my gym in a temper, and instead of telling me why so I could help you, you were rude to me. Does that clear things up for you?”
Amelia is stonily silent.
“Another six it is, then.”
I lift my hand, and she yelps. “All right! I’m sorry. I’m sorry for storming into your gym, and I’m sorry for being rude.”
I haul her up so she’s sitting astride my knee and watch her mopping at her tear-stained red cheeks. “Do you understand what you should have done instead?”
Amelia sniffles and nods. “Yes, daddy.”
“And what’s that?”
“I should have told you I wasn’t feeling my best and that I was upset.”
There’s a condom in my desk and I’m throbbing to use it after this. But maybe it’s better that we talk, if she wants to. “That’s my good girl. Now, I’ll give you a choice. Would you prefer to tell me what’s eating you now, or would you like me to fuck you first?”
Amelia gulps down her tears, and then grips two handfuls of my T-shirt, beseeching me like she’s been wandering in the desert for days and I’m here to rescue her.
“Fuck me, daddy, please. Hard.”
Chapter Five
Amelia
Dom lifts me up so my ass is on his desk and pushes down his sweatpants. His cock springs free. I stare at him. Wow. He got hard doing that to me. Really hard.
He pulls my leggings and underwear down over my shoes. I can’t even remember what I was being so bitchy about now. All I’m thinking about is my burning ass and the sight of him rolling a condom along his length.
“Owww,” I moan, leaning back on my hands. “My poor behind is all sore, and now you’ve got me sitting on it.”
Dom’s golden eyes are blazing. “Daddy wants you to remember your punishment while he fucks his little brat.”
I hiss in a breath hearing him talk like that. Then I blink hard, so that the last of my tears run theatrically down my face. Then I pout up at him. “Ow. So mean. Poor little me.”
“Poor little peaches,” he agrees, pressing my thighs wider with one hand and holding his cock with his other. He rubs thoughtfully up and down his length, looking at me with my legs splayed for him. Then he impales me hard and deep. I cry out, my head tipping back.
He holds tight to my hips, repositions me, and then thrusts again.
“You’re not even sorry,” I gasp, and lean back on my elbows to draw him deeper, and he rides me hard.
“About your little red ass? What gave that away? Play with your clit, baby. I love watching your little fingers.”
I reach forward, doing as I’m told, biting my lower lip as the pleasure and heat spreads through me.
But as soon as I’m about to come, he grabs my hand and pulls it away from my clit.
“No! What are you doing?”
“Who’s daddy’s little brat?”
I scowl up at hi
m.
“Say it, and I’ll let you play with your clit again, you dirty little girl.”
Damn him. I really really want to come. With a glower, I tell him through gritted teeth, “I’m daddy’s little brat.”
He grips my wrist tighter. “Again. Keep saying it. I want to make sure the message sinks in.”
He releases me and I do as I’m told, my expression of fury melting into bliss as my climax grows again. “I’m daddy’s little brat. I’m daddy’s little brat. I’m daddy’s little—ah, oh god!”
Dom lifts my hips up off the desk as he continues to thrust into me as I come. “Fuck, yes, you are, peaches. Daddy’s perfect little brat.”
He climaxes with a roar, gripping my ass hard and pounding me mercilessly. When he finally eases me back down again, I collapse back onto his desk, weak with release and gasping for air. His keyboard is digging into my shoulder, but I don’t even care.
Dom gets rid of the condom and tucks himself back into his sweats. Then he leans over me, his hands braced either side of my head. “Well, then? What’s eating you today, peaches?”
Oh, that. It’s the last thing I want to talk about right now. I just want to enjoy the feeling of being well fucked by him. Dom’s brows are drawn together, but in concern, not anger. I rub my finger over my lower lip, thinking.
“Maybe I can help you, if you trust me,” he offers. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine too. But I’d love it if you confided in me. I promise I’ll listen and I’ll never, ever laugh at you.”
I duck my chin as tears come into my eyes again. Tears of anguish this time, not pain. His torso in his black T-shirt and the letters that spell DOM get blurry.
“I just feel so helpless,” I manage, before my voice cracks.
“Ah, babygirl,” he murmurs sympathetically, pulling me up and into his arms. He draws me against his strong chest. I resist for a moment, and then I’m bawling into his T-shirt, my arms wrapped around his neck. He rocks me side to side as I cry, stroking my hair.
“Tell daddy what happened.”
