by Cara Bristol
But not when it came to something insignificant like footwear.
They were only shoes—albeit the most perfect ones on the planet—and even though they were expensive, Jared, an investment banker, could afford it. And she worked too. She would return to the store tomorrow and buy the shoes before they sold out. Melania hid her grin behind Jared’s jacket. What Jared didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
She pictured the pumps, all supple, sexy red leather. Italian. She imagined wearing a tiny red thong with a bow in the back that matched the stilettos. Only she would know, but that was all that mattered. The shoes fit perfectly and looked fantastic. The fact that they’d kill her feet didn’t factor a whit.
Pain was a small price to pay for happiness.
Chapter Two
Melania rode beside Jared, floating on a lazy cloud of satisfaction. They said little, the silence in the car warm and comfortable. At some point she noticed a shift in the atmosphere, and the air seemed to crackle with a sensual electricity.
She turned her head and found Jared staring at her. It was too dim to read his expression, but when he covered her hand with his, the sexual heat emanating from his palm seared her skin.
Her body responded to the invitation, and the stirrings of passion ignited in her as well. By the time Jared pulled the car under the portico, desire shimmered around her, enveloping her in a tightening, invisible net of aching need.
She waited for Jared to open the front door. His hard body barely brushing hers, he reached around to slide the key into the lock. The solidness of his erect cock bumped against her bottom, the accidental touch jolting her system. Wickedly she feigned a stretch and wiggled so she rubbed against his erection.
A low growl—part threat, part promise—erupted from Jared’s throat, and he pressed his hips into her, deliberately this time.
Melania smiled as feminine power vibrated through her.
At last Jared got the door open and gestured for Melania to precede him into the house. Head high, she marched gracefully across the foyer and mounted the winding staircase, swaying her hips with a come-hither shimmy. She’d realized when they were dating that Jared seemed fascinated by her ass, and she delighted in teasing him.
He followed her up the stairs, his tread as heavy as hers was light, each footfall resonating in her chest. She knew Jared lusted for her, but she wanted to see it, experience its most physical manifestation. Midway up the stairs, she paused and peered over her shoulder, looking down from her superior position five or six steps above him.
Jared stopped in his tracks, his gaze trained on her ass, as she had guessed it would be. She shrugged as if they were doing nothing more than retiring for the evening. “Are you coming?” she queried, as if he were dawdling.
His eyes flashed, threateningly, delightfully sexual. “Not yet. But I will be.”
A rush of heat flooded her face, and Jared roared with laughter. While Melania embraced the variety of sexual pleasures Jared had begun teaching her, she experienced bouts of self-conscious shyness at the oddest times. Her embarrassment embarrassed her, but it amused Jared, and she got the oddest notion her naïveté pleased him.
The rich sound of his laughter rumbled through her and sent her senses spinning.
She picked up the pace and raced up the stairs with Jared hot on her heels.
He captured her two steps into their bedroom, spun her around, and claimed her lips. She moaned into his mouth as he swept his tongue inside, stroking and caressing. He tasted delicious and warm, and she melted against him.
Her zipper gave way under his magic fingers, and her dress—along with her inhibitions—puddled at her feet. He tossed aside her bra and panties with a deliberate and provocative hand. Melania kicked off her sandals. Jared released her to strip off his own clothing, and she watched as her husband’s gorgeous body was revealed inch by tantalizing inch.
Until she’d known Jared, she’d never realized how sexy chest hair was. Her fingers itched to twist the springy strands, then follow the wiry trail to Jared’s magnificent cock. She had nothing to judge by, but she believed he was larger than most men—he was most certainly a tight fit for her. Perversely she delighted in the initial discomfort, relished the stretch and fullness.
His cock bobbed now as Jared freed it from the restraints of his clothing. A faint warmth heated her cheekbones as Melania regarded him in a head-to-toe perusal, taking in the breadth of his shoulders, the corded muscles of his arms and thighs, the bristling of body hair, and of course, his engorged cock.
She returned her gaze to his face. Boldness infused her. She arched her eyebrows. “What was that you said about coming?”
A split second later, her bravado evaporated into a squealing crescendo as Jared grabbed and hoisted her so he could fasten his mouth on a protruding nipple. He clamped his hands on her ass cheeks, trapping her against him as he drew hungrily on the bud. Melania tugged on Jared’s thick hair.
Her dangling legs brushed against his cock, the precum oozing from the tip smearing her skin. Holding her easily with one hand, he slipped the other between her legs, sliding into her wetness. Melania moaned as he delicately stroked her clit.
“Who’s teasing now, sweetheart?” Jared said against her breast. He nipped the cherry tip, then soothed the sweet sting with a flick of his tongue.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Melania lied. She closed her eyes to savor the pull of his mouth on her breast. She tried to move her hips against Jared’s hand to increase the force and speed on her clit, but he held her tight. Jared moved, and she anticipated being lowered onto the mattress but instead was shifted in his arms. She opened her eyes to find Jared sitting on the bed, herself lying butt up across his lap, staring at the floor, his erection digging into her side.
“What are you doing?” She craned her neck to peer at him.
“It’s time you paid the penalty for being a tease,” he said.
He wedged a hand between her thighs and homed in on the sensitive bundle of nerves, then toyed with the bud as if he had all the time in the world and nothing more important to do than drive her insane. She ached with a desperate need, her clit engorged and pulsing, her empty pussy creaming.
Jared hissed as he eased a finger into her swollen passage, twisted the digit, then curved his finger downward. Melania mewled as he touched a particularly sensitive spot, her hips bucking of their own accord, wanting something harder, thicker than a finger to penetrate her.
“Jared, don’t play,” she begged.
“Oh, I’m not playing, sweetheart.” He removed his finger from her pussy to focus on her clit, circling it faster and faster, bringing her closer and closer to the ultimate edge. Dangling over his lap as she was, the blood was rushing to her head, making her dizzy, or perhaps it was the effect of the pleasure he was whipping up within her with a single finger, but she was gasping as she neared completion—
Until he struck her bottom.
Melania squealed, her body convulsing as sharp pleasure ricocheted through her. Before she could process the whirling sensations and emotions, he spanked the other cheek with a loud smack.
Melania windmilled her arms in a scramble to escape even as her hips reared to receive the punitive caress. Jared pressed a strong arm over her lower back, anchoring her snugly across his thighs.
He delivered multiple hard whacks, but although the smacks burned and she squealed with each one, she realized he was tempering his spanks. The pleasant sting had her shamefully yearning for more, her pussy clenching, her clit pulsing. Under a rain of spanks, her bottom grew tender, but as sensation began to border on real pain, Jared eased the sting with a caress of his palm, then slipped his hand between her legs to tease her clit.
He penetrated her with two fingers this time, and a fevered shock flooded Melania at how wet she was. Her pussy creamed over Jared’s hand. What kind of woman got aroused by a spanking? She had little time to wonder, because Jared grabbed her and pulled her atop him as he
twisted around to lie on his back. “Ride me,” he ordered.
Greedily, desperately, she obeyed, forcing herself onto his shaft, loving the twinge, the pressure. She moaned at the deliciousness of it. She rode him fast and hard, raising and lowering herself on his erection as Jared thrust forcefully into her from below.
“Touch yourself. Stroke your clit,” he commanded in a thickened but still imperious tone. Though Melania was on top, Jared controlled their lovemaking by voice and touch. Melania enjoyed bowing to her husband’s will, secure in the knowledge the ultimate benefit would be hers.
She obediently moved her fingers over her hard pearl, bringing a smile of satisfaction to Jared’s face and sending savage pleasure careening through her body. She marveled at how well he knew her, the way her husband sensed what she needed and didn’t hesitate to provide it. He palmed and kneaded her aching breasts before grabbing her tender ass to guide the angle and pace of her body, ratcheting her pleasure into the stratosphere.
“Jared…” Melania’s muscles tightened. She dug into the curling hairs on his chest as her fingers flew fast over her clit. Her swollen pussy gripped Jared’s cock.
“Come for me, Melania,” Jared growled.
Melania felt as if she were rending into two halves as she surrendered to her body’s yearning and Jared’s command. She cried out her release as Jared shouted his. Her body still pulsing and burning, she slumped atop Jared, feeling close to tears. He caressed her back, kissed her neck and the side of her face as his still-hard cock throbbed inside her.
As sanity returned, so did her embarrassment. Her mind reeled.
Jared had spanked her!
And she had liked it! It wasn’t awful at all. Of course, Jared hadn’t been disciplining her for real, but still, he had smacked her bare bottom, and that counted as a spanking.
The act had laid to rest a dormant concern. During their engagement, she and Jared had discussed what it would mean to have Jared head their household. He’d made it clear he would spank her to enforce the rules and discipline they’d both agreed upon.
Melania couldn’t imagine ever doing anything to displease him enough that he would want to spank her, let alone follow through with it. Sure, this spanking had been more fun than discipline, but she felt confident now that in the extremely unlikely circumstance he spanked her for real, she could handle it.
Her relief coupled with the post-coital afterglow made her feel almost giddy.
Jared was caressing her pleasantly sore bottom and squeezing her cheeks. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She heard hesitation in his voice, and resting against his chest, she bobbed her head in an enthusiastic affirmative.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“The spanking? No.” She raised her head to look into his eyes to reassure him.
A small frown knit his brows. “I got a little carried away with wanting you.”
A fountain of happiness bubbled up inside her. “I like it when you get carried away,” she said. From the moment she’d met him, she’d been a moth to his flame. Whatever he wanted, she wanted.
The frown lifted from his forehead, but a tiny light of concern still glinted in his eyes. “You know, though…the spanking was pretend. It wasn’t actually serious discipline. When I discipline you for real, it will be different.”
“I know.” If he ever punished her, the context would be different, of course. But really, how likely was that? Melania had no worries. She could handle anything that happened.
He pressed a hard, quick kiss to her mouth. “I love you.”
Melania relaxed atop Jared and sighed with contentment.
Chapter Three
Jared parked his Mercedes at the curb, dropped a few coins into the meter, and sprinted across the street to the shoe store. He was cutting it close. Their guests would arrive in a few hours, but he’d been so busy all week, he hadn’t had an opportunity until now to get the shoes.
Melania deserved them, not only for her immediate obedience the other evening, but also because she’d worked so hard. His young wife was quite the accomplished cook, and she’d tested recipes all week to find the right ones to please his friends. She’d cleaned the house until it gleamed. Fresh flowers decorated every nook and cranny, and the dining table was readied with their wedding china and silver.
He twisted his mouth ruefully. Taking her on the dining table wasn’t an option at this point, unless he wanted to wreck her beautiful table setting and break their wedding crystal.
The bell over the door tinkled as Jared dashed inside the shop.
The same clerk stood behind the counter, texting into her cell phone. She looked up, and recognition seemed to flicker in her gaze. She tapped a few more characters, then set the phone down. “Hey,” she said.
“I’m back,” he said. “I was hoping you still have the shoes my wife liked so much. Size seven?”
The clerk’s pierced eyebrow rose.
“The red ones, with the”—he waved his hands—“the little doodad bows.”
“I remember.” A frown creased her forehead. “We don’t have the shoes anymore.”
“Damnit.” Jared sighed. “I should have come back sooner. My wife will be disappointed. Well, thank you.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “Can you order another pair?” He looked at the clerk.
The clerk blinked. “For your wife? The girl you were with the other night?”
No, for somebody else’s wife. Jared stifled his sarcastic retort. It wasn’t the clerk’s fault. She had a lot of customers and couldn’t be expected to remember everyone. “Yes.”
“Your wife already bought them.”
He shook his head. “You must be mistaken.”
“I don’t think so. Your wife has long, dark, curly hair. Big, honking princess-cut wedding ring?” She stretched out her left hand and wiggled her ring finger.
The muscles in Jared’s face froze.
“Yeah.” The girl shrugged. “She came in a couple of days ago and bought the shoes.”
Jared’s temperature soared into the red zone. He managed to thank the clerk before striding out, a ball of fury bunching his shoulder blades. He covered the distance to his car in half the time, jerked open the door, and lowered himself inside. He fastened his hands on the steering wheel. Melania had deliberately disobeyed him and sneaked behind his back to buy the shoes.
His nostrils flared with anger as hurt clenched his chest in a tight-fisted grip.
He shook his head in dismay. He couldn’t say he hadn’t been warned. Melania’s father had told him his daughter had been a little overindulged. When Jared had asked his future father-in-law for his daughter’s hand in marriage, Conner Jackson had granted it readily but cautioned Jared that Melania needed a firm hand to control her willfulness.
“I have to accept some responsibility,” Conner had admitted. “While I didn’t hesitate to deliver the discipline Melania’s mother needed, I’m afraid I was too lenient on my daughter. She was such a sweet little girl, it was hard to say no to her, and sometimes she didn’t get the spankings she deserved.”
“I’ll do right by her, sir,” Jared had assured the older man.
“I know you will, son. My wife and I are pleased Melania has met someone older and wiser who loves her and will provide her with what she needs rather than with what she wants.”
As he recalled the conversation with Conner, Jared’s hurt and anger ebbed. He didn’t doubt Melania’s love or her inherent goodness. She had a heart as big as the ocean, and she would mature into a fine wife and mother. But she needed discipline.
It was time to provide some. Jared started the engine and headed home to Melania.
* * *
Melania hobbled into the house and slipped off her new red shoes, sighing in relief as the marble tiles of the massive foyer cooled her blistered feet. It had been a stupid idea to wear the shoes to the hairdresser’s. But she couldn’t resist. They were so pretty, and it would be awhile before Jared would forg
et and she could wear them in his presence. The way the girls in the salon had oohed and aahed made her feel special. Unfortunately she’d been unable to find a parking space near the hairdresser and had to hoof it. The hike to and from the salon had caused the shoes to rub her feet raw in places.
Clutching the pumps in her hands, she ascended the stairs to dress for dinner.
Everything was ready for the evening’s party. The house was clean and sparkling. The wine-braised beef was roasting. She’d stuffed baked potatoes and would put them into the oven for a second baking just before the guests arrived. A tray of canapés awaited their guests in the fridge. Melania was almost ready herself. She’d showered before she left for her hair and nail appointments. A new dress hung in her closet. All she needed to do was put on her face and slip into the dress—a tight, black, slinky, one-shouldered number.
Melania stowed the shoes in an old shoebox at the back of her closet, stripped off her street clothes, and donned a silk robe over her red thong and lacy, strapless push-up bra. She sat at the vanity to do her makeup.
She’d pretty much completed the job and was smoothing gloss over her lips when she became aware of Jared leaning against the doorjamb.
“You’re home early.” She curved her lips in welcome. She turned to look at him, silently congratulating herself on her foresight to hide the contraband.
He approached her, but he didn’t return her smile, and she realized this was the first time Jared had arrived home and didn’t greet her with a kiss. She rose to her feet and arched her eyebrows with concern. “Is something wrong? Did something happen at work?”
His eyes zeroed in on her blistered heels. “What happened to your feet?”
Her stomach took a guilty dive. “I got a little blister,” she said casually, flattening her hand against her fluttering stomach. “I couldn’t find a parking space and had to walk.”
