Another giggle shakes my chest. “You gonna give me a safe word?”
“If you want one.”
“I do.”
“Okay.” He dangles the flogger along my back, tickling me with a dozen tapping strings. “If I go too far, say wait. If you want to stop, say stop.”
“Simple.” I chuckle. “And if I want more?”
“Say my name.”
I flinch, not expecting his mouth to be so close to my ear. He steps back and I take a sharp inhale to calm my racing pulse.
“Keep your hands up,” he says a few feet behind me. “Don’t move out of place and don’t forget to breathe.”
“People forget to—?” The flogger hits my back and I accidentally bite down. “Ouch.”
“I barely tapped you,” he says.
“I bit my tongue!”
He sighs. “Relax and stay quiet.”
I force my lips together, stifling my laugh. He hits me again, this time just a little bit harder. It really is just barely a tap. More like a tickle than a—
It hits again, this one more forceful and quick. I exhale hard, tensing up as he gives me another hit. He’s right. It doesn’t hurt but my body isn’t used to this. It keeps flinching and flexing, preparing for a pain that’s not— ouch!
Okay.
That one actually hurt.
My mouth sags and I gasp loudly as a bolt of pain fires down my left side. It fades quickly, sending heat throughout my core and I relish in the sensation.
“You felt that.” I hear Clive behind me, just mere inches from my neck. “Do you know why?”
I look back in confusion, prompting him to raise the flogger again. I spin forward in time for it to snap along my back. It hurts — but not as much as before.
“Did I say you could turn around?” he asks.
“No,” I answer.
“Then, don’t turn around.”
I fix my neck, holding still.
“Do you know why you felt that?” he asks me again.
I nod. “Because you wanted me to,” I answer, recalling his words from before.
“Good girl.” He taps me, light and fluffy, and it almost makes me smile. “Bad girl.”
He swipes me harder, making my knees lurch and I yelp in response.
“Understand?” he growls.
My voice shakes. “Yes,” I say.
“Say, I understand, Mr. Snow.”
A laugh rattles my ribs and I feel like a different person. His voice, his words. I can’t remember the last time someone else told me to do something — and I had to obey. It feels so new and unnatural, but completely free at the same time. I let go of everything — work and stress. I’ll let go of life itself if it means pleasing him.
“I understand,” I say, “Mr. Snow.”
Clive leaves several pleasant raps along my upper back. I close my eyes, lulled into a sense of security — even if it might be a false one. It’s an odd feeling. One of trust and encouragement but I still find myself bracing for anything.
He whips me harder. “Hands.”
I cringe, realizing far too late that my palms have slid down the cross. “Shit—” I murmur.
“What was that?” He leans over, his warm breath grazing my ear. “Did you just curse?”
I bite down, unsure whether or not I should speak. He hits me again and again, three times in rapid succession and my eyes sting with the threat of tears.
Dammit. What did he tell me?
Say wait if he goes too far.
Say stop to make him stop.
No, there was something else.
“Nora?”
Several bright bursts of light invade my vision and my knees give out beneath me.
Breathe.
He told me to breathe.
A strong arm wraps around my waist before I even touch the floor. Clive yanks me back up, hoisting me into the air and cradling me in both arms.
“Nora?”
His voice sounds faint and distant even though I can feel his lips moving on my cheek.
“Stop,” I murmur.
My eyes focus on his chiseled face as his smile stretches to one side.
“Way ahead of you,” he says with a laugh. “Are you okay?”
I glance around, squinting beneath the bright purple light. A larger crowd has gathered around to watch and I cringe in embarrassment. “Uh-huh…”
Clive looks up and nods at another man in a black shirt nearby. The man immediately starts waving people away, insisting that they give us our space.
“Come on,” Clive says, still carrying me. He walks us over to a bench against the nearest wall and he sits down beneath the dim, gray lights, keeping me close. “I didn’t think Ms. Nora Payne would have such a low tolerance.”
“I don’t,” I say, my cheeks burning. “I just… forgot to breathe.”
“Ah, that explains it.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “It’s all part of the learning process. I’m just happy I caught you in time.”
I look down, suddenly very aware of his hands on my body. He keeps one clenched beneath my knees with the other wrapped around my back, his fingers dangerously close to my breast.
And my hands — Oh, god. I’m touching his chest. It’s thick and flexed like some kind of… sports… person…
Athlete! That’s the word.
My mind starts to clear up and I look around the quiet corner of the room. We’re all by ourselves over here. Everyone else found something more interesting to watch, I guess. Or that’s just the kind of respect people treat you with around here. Either way, I’m happy they moved on.
I clear my throat. “Well, I can’t say I’ve been cradled like this in… twenty-five years, or so,” I joke.
“Didn’t want you to hit your head,” he says. He looks at the seat. “And I didn’t want to lay you down because I’m not sure when this bench was last cleaned, so…”
“Right. Smart.” I swallow hard, getting lost in those bright, blue eyes. How did I never notice before that they were blue? “I think I’m good now.”
“You sure?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
I slide off his lap onto the bench and he lets me go. My body instantly wants his hands back. I almost feel unhinged without them. Like a ship with no anchor.
“Bathroom?” I ask.
Clive points toward the stairs. “First floor. Left of the entrance.”
“Thank you.”
I stand up, fighting the instant dizzy rush that plagues my head. He stands up with me but he doesn’t follow. I squeeze through the lump of people standing between me and the stairs. The only eyes I feel on me are his and the feeling stays in my skin even after I reach the bottom and throw open the ladies’ room door.
I duck into the farthest stall and lock it behind me. I remain standing, planting my back against the door and staring at the walls painted to look like red bricks.
What the hell just happened to me?
I’ve never passed out before. Ever. I’ve never even had an anxiety attack or a panic attack or any other of those things you see women go through in romantic comedies. I’ve never tripped and fallen in public. Things like that just don’t happen to me.
Until now, that is.
Strangely, though, the thing I’m more upset about is how much I’m not upset by all of this.
I don’t give a shit about passing out in front of strangers. I don’t care that I got flogged in front of them either.
No, the only thing I feel is a deep throbbing between my thighs begging me for more.
“Clive,” I whisper, involuntarily.
His voice in my ear. His hands on my body. The way he forced my hands up and placed them exactly where he wanted them. He didn’t even restrain me. I didn’t need to be. I wanted to go where he told me to go. I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to do to me.
Oh, Christ.
I flick the button on my pants, loosening it enough to slide my ha
nd inside. With closed eyes, I touch myself. I rub the edge of my sensitive clit, teasing it to life and it doesn’t take long before I’m actively holding back moans.
The bathroom door opens and closes. I don’t stop. I ignore the sounds of running water and ripping paper towels. My mind replaces those with my own gasps and the flogger’s snap and Clive’s deep growl...
I come hard, harder than I have in weeks. My entire body tingles from head-to-toe. My knees nearly give out but I keep my free hand on the bar along the edge of the stall to keep myself up.
“Fuck,” I whisper, moaning through my teeth. I instantly regret saying it. I could be punished again for cursing.
I smile. “Fuck.”
I lay my head back, purposefully slamming it against the door. Something about this feels so wrong — masturbating in a public restroom aside.
I’m his boss.
He’s my employee.
This could end badly.
But only if I let it begin.
Eight
Clive
Well, that’s never happened to me before.
I’ve seen sub drop before but they’ve never literally dropped to the ground in front of me. At least I know my reflexes are still good.
My chest is still pounding. Seeing her — Nora Payne herself — facing a St. Andrew’s cross. Her hands raised above her head. They weren’t even tied. She kept them there, willingly obeying me. She wanted to submit to me.
She felt amazing in my arms. Her little body is tighter than I thought it’d be. Soft, pale skin beneath her clothes just waiting to be turned pink.
The bathroom door opens and some redhead walks out. I grit my teeth, honestly starting to get a little worried. Three other women have gone in and come back out since Nora rushed in there. Maybe I should grab Judy and ask her to go check on her.
Finally, the door swings open and I push off the wall. Nora stops the second she sees me standing by and her eyes drop to her shoes.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says. “I just needed a minute.”
Her eyes refuse to lock on mine. She’s obviously not all right. Not yet.
“Hey—” I touch her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry. Trust me, these people have seen far worse.”
Her smile presses on, feigned as it may be. “Oh, no. I’m cool. I’m fine. Really.”
I hold out her jacket. “You forgot this up there…”
“Oh!” She takes it from me. “Thank you very much.”
We take a step back to keep from blocking the bathroom door. Nora nudges against me by accident and I catch the subtle scent of her perfume. It struck me earlier by the St. Andrew’s cross and my nose has been begging for another hit of it ever since.
Nora backs off, quickly moving to a more open area to get out of the way. I follow her, still not entirely convinced that she’s okay.
“So, what’s next?” I ask. “Was there another scene you were curious about?”
“Scene?” she asks, furrowing her brow.
I grin. “You really are a beginner.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, a scene is basically a—”
“Actually, Clive,” she interrupts, “I think I’m just gonna take off.”
A protective surge stuns my gut. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Things just got a little too real on me for a Wednesday night, ya know?” She chuckles and awkwardly pushes her hair behind her ear. “I should go and try to get some sleep.”
“Right.” I check my watch. Still a bit of time left on my break. “Where are you parked?” I ask.
“In the garage down the block,” she answers, throwing up a hand. “But you don’t have to—”
“I’ll walk you to your car,” I say over her.
“Clive, I’m fine.”
“Come on.”
I’m not taking no for an answer here. Hell, part of me wants to drive her home myself. She passed out under my hand. I pushed her too hard and I don’t want her out of my sight again for the rest of the night.
I lead her to the exit, pausing to give Judy a quick heads up on my way out. She takes one look at Nora and gives me a subtle wink. No worries, it means. Thanks for looking out for the newbies.
I hold the door open and Nora follows me outside. She instantly throws her jacket back on and wraps her arms around her chest to block out the late autumn chill. The weather doesn’t hurt me much but I’ve got fifty pounds on her, at least. It’s admirable, honestly; How a woman so tiny managed to become such a big deal.
I let her point the way and we set out toward the parking garage a few blocks east.
After a minute of silence, Nora clears her throat. “So, how long have you worked there?” she asks.
I count back. “Six months. Give or take.”
“Do you like it? I mean, it’s gotta be better than plugging numbers for me all day.”
I chuckle. “Well, when you put it that way…”
She smiles. “I won’t take it personally.”
“It’s different,” I answer. “More stressful, in a way. I usually don’t have to worry about Ali in accounting passing out mid-spanking.” Nora’s face screws up and I cringe. “Too soon?”
“Little bit…” She laughs.
“Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I’m sure I’ll wake up one day and find it hilarious.” Her face relaxes. “Has anything like that ever happened before?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Are you lying to make me feel better?”
“No.”
“Pinky promise?”
I chuckle. “I swear. Things like that aren’t uncommon. It can get intense in there.”
Nora looks at me and nods, seemingly satisfied with the response.
We reach the parking garage a bit too quickly. I need more alone time with her if I’m ever going to figure out where she stashes her client list. And I honestly wouldn’t mind a few minutes alone with her in other ways as well…
My fingers tingle with the memory of her body in my lap. Her chest softly rising and falling. Blood rushing to my groin and me silently praying she can’t feel the bulge against her hip.
“Just over here,” she says, pointing across the lot.
I spot the scarlet red sedan in the corner, parked behind a giant, black truck. Once again, I’m instantly happy with my decision to walk her back to her car. It’s not the safest neighborhood and a dark corner like this is ample opportunity for someone to try and mug her. Or worse.
But also…
I glance around. There are only a few other cars parked in this area and with that truck blocking most angles…
Nora turns to face me next to the driver’s side door. “Thanks for walking me back,” she says, popping open her little purse to find her car keys.
“No problem,” I say. “I’m happy to do it.”
She pulls the handle, opening the door an inch. “I’ll see you tomorrow—”
I rest my hand on the door, blocking it. “Wait.”
She pauses, her eyes slowly rising to look at me. There’s a flush of color on her face, like a jolt of electricity she can’t deny.
I lick my lips and shift just a little closer, forcing her head to tilt up as I stand over her. “Kiss me,” I say.
She blinks. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“No.” Her head shakes back and forth. “No, I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” She scoffs. “I shouldn’t have come back here anyway. I’m your boss.”
“Only from nine-to-five,” I argue. “And it’s the 21st century. No one cares about that kind of crap anymore.”
“I care about that kind of crap anymore,” she says. “I don’t mix business and… whatever the hell that was back there.”
“Did it feel good?”
She tries to open the door but I pin it closed.
“Did it feel good?” I ask again, in
ches away from her ear.
Her breath skips. “Yes,” she says.
“Which part?” I ask, digging deeper. “The pinch of the flogger against you… or that it pleased me?”
Nora closes her eyes. “I don’t know…” she whispers.
I lay a hand under her chin and guide her up to look at me. “I can make you feel like that again, Nora. You just have to submit to me.”
She shivers.
“That’s what you came out here for, isn’t it?” I ask. “To find someone who will make you forget who you are for just a little while. Someone who can dominate you… and fuck you the way you were always meant to be fucked.” She doesn’t say a word. “Nora, I’ll back off if that’s what you really want. You can start coming to the club again and find some other guy who might know a thing or two.” I caress her cheek. “Or you can stick with me, someone familiar but not too familiar, who can give you what you need.”
“And what do I need?” she asks.
“You know what.” I take a deep breath of her scent and it fires all the way down to my knees. “Let me give it to you.”
She’s breaking. I can feel it. I just have to push her a little bit further…
“Say yes,” I urge as I glide my hand down over her breasts. “Say yes and I’ll show you what I can do right now.”
Her head rolls back, exposing her neck as she rests it against the car roof. My cock twitches in my jeans at the sight of that white handkerchief fastened to her throat.
My white handkerchief.
I reach her pants and I pop the button free as tires skid around the corner from us. Her breath catches in her throat and her hesitant eyes open wider with every inch I slide her zipper down but she doesn’t stop me. The car continues on, disappearing up the echoing tower.
I kiss her, firmly enveloping her lips. It feels like a firecracker exploding against my face. Can’t say that’s ever happened before. I want to feel it again.
I kiss her a second time and her lips move to kiss me back.
She tilts slightly away from me. “We shouldn’t…” she says, her vocal elongated by desire.
“You know what to say,” I whisper. “Wait. Stop. Or…”
I slide my finger along the tip of her clit, making her gasp as she clenches my biceps. She’s so sensitive. I can feel the wetness up to my knuckles already. I want to touch her and taste her and hear her say my name.
Pretty Dirty Trick: A Rich Bitches Novel Page 33
