The Dom with the Dragon Tattoo [Masters of Submission 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

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The Dom with the Dragon Tattoo [Masters of Submission 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Page 11

by Jan Bowles


  Tyler slid the letter back in its envelope then put it in his flight bag and zipped it up. Typical fucking woman. Didn’t she realize that his happiness was linked to her? He still loved her. That was why he’d proposed to her at the lake. Why the fuck hadn’t she confided in him? Was he that much of an ogre? But sneaking away without a word, after they’d made love three times that night, was unacceptable behavior, and when he finally caught up with her, she would be severely disciplined.

  As if reliving the whole sorry episode again, Tyler clenched his fists into hardened balls of steel. How dare she disrespect her Master by leaving like that?

  It had taken a private detective nineteen days to find her. Nineteen fucking days of wondering if she were dead or alive. Rebecca was an intelligent woman and had made herself hard to find. Mark Johnson, the PI he’d hired to track her down, had eventually traced her to this very address, in Ponta Negra, Maricá, a largely unnoticed municipality north of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

  Completely shattered and in need of sleep after the eleven-hour flight from Houston Intercontinental Airport, Tyler decided to get some rest and a shower at a local hotel before returning. He needed to be more in control of his emotions than he was at present. If only this godforsaken country wasn’t so fucking hot.

  He tapped the cab driver on his shoulder. “Take me to the best hotel in Rio.”

  “Sim, senhor.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rebecca strolled aimlessly along the beautiful sandy beach, her thoughts with Tyler as always. The cooler evening wind whipped the hair against her face, stinging her cheeks.

  Melancholia was her constant companion now, and she breathed in the salty sea air as she took in the golden sands stretching out to infinity. At least down here in Ponta Negra, she felt more in tune with herself. During her course of chemotherapy, which started when she was ten years old, she’d often visit this very beach with her nurse as part of her treatment. She’d longed for her mother to take her, but Sophia Miles always seemed to have far more pressing engagements to attend. As a child, it had raised her spirits when she’d seen the Atlantic Ocean in all its glory. The intense chemotherapy would have been extremely debilitating for an adult woman, let alone a young girl, and she’d often become depressed, wondering if it were all worth it. The regular bouts of nausea and vomiting were particularly unpleasant. At times she hadn’t wanted to continue with the chemo, but just witnessing nature at its most powerful, had given her the will to fight on.

  Now she wasn’t so sure. That was why she’d retreated to the friendly refuge from her childhood. Without Tyler, she wasn’t sure she wanted to carry on. What would be the point? No other man could ever take his place in her affections, because she would love him, and only him, until the day she died.

  Damn it to hell. She wiped away a teardrop before sidestepping a huge breaker that came crashing in. The day she’d left Tyler had been the worst day of her life. It had almost destroyed her to leave him sleeping peacefully, especially after he’d repeatedly told her how much he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

  Her hand had trembled with emotion, and tears had streamed down her cheeks as she had written her farewell letter. Rebecca calmed herself with the knowledge that eventually he would find a woman who could give him what he needed and deserved—unconditional love and children. She just wished it could have been her.

  The fine sand felt warm beneath her bare feet, and it scrunched agreeably between her toes as she made her way up the beach toward her villa. Thanks to her privileged upbringing and education, she spoke fluent Portuguese, and therefore had no difficulty renting the modest, yet comfortable beach house for the next three months. God alone knew what she would do after that, because she didn’t have a clue. Without Tyler to guide her, an unhappy rudderless existence lay ahead. She was angry with herself for being so goddamned unprofessional. She’d left Cerberus Technology without even completing the project she’d been hired to do. That was unforgivable of her. She’d let herself and her team down, and she had no illusions that Tyler wouldn’t be angry with her. Leaving an important project unfinished would only have pissed him off more.

  The sun set quickly in this part of the world, and by the time she reached her house, the other coastal properties were lighting up, sparkling into life like Chinese lanterns floating in the night sky.

  A set of stone steps rose from the sand and led to a low-walled sun-trap. It was a relaxing place to spend the early morning, when the first golden rays broke on the horizon. She’d often sit out here with a cup of strong black coffee, watching Mother Nature at her most magnificent. It saddened her to realize that such beauty meant nothing without Tyler beside her. After climbing the steps, she walked past the solitary sun lounger then headed toward the glass patio door.

  Rebecca suddenly froze as her fingers curled around the handle. That was odd. The sliding partition lay open an inch or two, yet she felt certain she’d secured it properly when she’d left the house for her evening stroll less than an hour ago. She shook her head. In her current state of mind, she barely remembered to eat, and when she did, it was almost nothing. So maybe she shouldn’t be surprised that she’d left the door unlocked on the way out.

  Still, purely as a precaution, she would check the place out, just to make sure no one had broken in. Despite its vitality and cosmopolitan nature, the area around Rio was rife with crime, so she needed to keep her wits about her. Carefully, and very quietly, she slid open the glass door and stepped inside. The interior appeared quite dark now, and mysterious shadows seemed to be everywhere, so she flicked on the lights. She put her hand to her chest in relief when the living area instantly flooded with a reassuring warm glow. It was just as she remembered, all perfectly kept, with its white-washed interior walls and golden terrazzo floor tiles. Her latest read, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, still lay open on the coffee table, at the exact page she’d left it. Everything was fine. It was just her imagination playing tricks on her. However, the rented beach house had two bedrooms and a bathroom, so just to be on the safe side, she’d check those out, too. Knowing full well that it would make a useless weapon, she grabbed the table umbrella from the stand by the door and held it out in front of her like a charging knight on horseback. How sad was that?

  When she heard a door creak, she shouted out, “Quem está aí? Who’s there?” Her voice was shaky, and she didn’t think her tone would frighten anyone away.

  Using the parasol as a tool, Rebecca tentatively prodded the door to the first bedroom. It swung wide open, revealing the simple rustic furniture inside. Nothing seemed amiss here, and she allowed a relieved outward breath to flow freely from her lips.

  “Stupid woman.” She really was worrying far too much. It was obvious no one was here, but just to put her mind completely at ease, she would check the second bedroom overlooking the private pool.

  Further down the hallway, and still holding the parasol out in front of her like a medieval lance, Rebecca used it to push open the door. This was her bedroom. She found it relaxing, especially when the pool lights automatically came on as darkness fell. They illuminated her sanctuary with a soft undulating blue glow that flickered a myriad of different patterns across the walls and ceiling as the water shimmered in the pool.

  Before she could switch on the light, a large hand suddenly covered her mouth, and she was roughly pulled backward against a wall of unyielding muscle.

  Panic in the form of bile began to rise in her throat. The guy behind her was so strong, she realized she had no chance of defending herself.

  “You’ve been a very selfish, stupid, and naughty girl, Becca.”

  In sheer surprise, her body froze and the parasol she was carrying clattered noisily to the floor. It was Tyler. She had never expected to hear his wonderful, deep voice again, and even though he was angry, it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.

  “That’s right, my little wayward sub. You have every reason to fear me now.�
�� His warm breath feathered across her cheek as he leaned in and whispered ominously against her ear, “I’m going to teach you a lesson you will never forget.”

  Firm pressure to the small of her back showed Rebecca that he meant business, and he manhandled her over to the bed. Tyler let loose a satisfied grunt as he forced her onto the mattress, where she lay sprawled facedown. “Oh, lady, you have no idea how I’ve longed to get my hands on you.” As she lay helpless on her stomach, he brutally yanked at her white linen slacks, tearing them from her. He used such force, her body lifted from the mattress as he ripped them away. “You deserve everything you get.” Tyler was incredibly angry, but however frightened she was, he still turned her on, and she was enormously pleased to see, hear, and feel him again. She loved him. She’d always love him.

  As a mark of his power over her, he thrust the ruined trousers into her face before tossing them dismissively away. Christ, she’d never seen him so angry, and although he’d disciplined her many times before, it had always been part of their sexual role-play. This was entirely different. Tyler Stone was not playing. He was a man on a mission, and he forcefully tore her panties from her now-trembling body, too. It actually hurt as they snapped from between her legs. Although he was a natural dominant, the tone of his voice chilled the blood in her veins like never before. “Three weeks. It’s taken me three fucking weeks to track you down, so believe me when I say retribution feels very sweet, lady.”

  Even if he were the angriest man in the world, Tyler was here with her again, and she took comfort from that. He’d flown all the way from Houston to Rio de Janeiro to discipline her, and that surely had to mean something, right? He could have just forgotten her and moved on with his life, but he hadn’t. Her heart swelled with the realization that despite his anger, he might just want her back.

  “Tyler, Tyler, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” Her voice shook with emotion. “Can we discuss this?” She tried to appeal to the compassionate part of his personality, but right at this moment he didn’t have one.

  His uncompromising answer echoed off the walls of the bedroom. “Discuss? Fucking discuss? You didn’t think we needed a discussion when you fucked off in the middle of the night without a word, did you?”

  She twisted her head as best she could to look at him, but her vision was blurred because tears filled her eyes. “No, I didn’t, and I’m so, so sorry, Tyler, but I thought it was for the best.”

  “For the best?” he cruelly mimicked her words, mocking her, incredulity masking his beautiful face. “Best for me, or best for you?”

  “I left because I wanted what was best for you. I left because I can’t give you what you need—children.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, unable to bear the pain etched on his face.

  “I’ll decide what’s best for me, not you. Don’t dare presume you know your Master’s mind.” Still clearly pissed at her, he leaned over and grabbed at the neckline of her blouse, dragging it over her shoulders and down her back until her arms lay trapped behind her, the tightness of the material prohibiting any movement. She squirmed helplessly on her stomach, petrified of what he might to do to her but more petrified that he would leave and never return.

  “I’ll make myself clear. I am not in any way, shape, or form like your previous boyfriend Mitch. How dare you disrespect your Master by comparing me to some selfish prick who wouldn’t step up to the plate when the going got tough?” He spat the words out, sending a chill running through her. Why hadn’t she confided in him? Why hadn’t she trusted him? She’d acted like an idiot, and fully deserved his wrath.

  He tossed a table tennis paddle onto the mattress beside her. “Hotel gaming rooms have their uses. I have a shitload of correctional toys back home in Houston, but Brazilian customs officials, being what they are, may have become curious as to why I’m traveling with handcuffs and a selection of canes.

  “So, sub, let the punishment fit the crime.” He took the paddle from the bed and whacked it ominously and rhythmically against the palm of his other hand, several times.

  Thud. Thud. Thud. The scary noise left her in doubt as to what would happen next.

  “Now let me see, how many times would be appropriate? Five? Ten? Fifteen?”

  “Sir, I’m sorry. I should have told you everything. I’ve fucked up big-time, and it’s all my fault, but if you’ve read my letter—”

  “Enough, of course I’ve read your letter, but you still deserve to be punished. It’s too late for sorry. Sorry just doesn’t cut it anymore. You’ve been gone exactly twenty-one days. I therefore think that twenty-one strokes of the paddle against your peachy butt are in order.”

  When the pimply rubber surface first contacted her bare ass, she felt the stinging pain a millisecond or two before hearing the sickening noise. Fuck, it hurt, but she deserved it, and then some. It hit dead center, and with such power it forced her body deep into the mattress. “Do you have any idea what it’s like”—another stinging smack connected with her ass, making her bite her bottom lip—“having to constantly lie for you?”

  “I’m so sorry, sir.”

  “My employees at Cerberus think you’ve gone to Washington to look after your sick mother. That’s what I told them.” Another searing strike connected with her backside, each one hurting twice as much as the last. Every time he spoke, he disciplined her further. It was strange, but the almost unbearable pain only served to calm her emotions. Tyler now knew everything. She wasn’t hiding anything from him now, and that empowered her with a wonderful sense of relief.

  “Please, Master, I know I deserve it, but it hurts so much.” She buried her face deep in the duvet, taking a mouthful of bedding in order to stop herself from crying out.

  “Oh,” he mocked. “They were all so impressed with your compassionate attitude, especially your colleagues Rob and Claire. Rebecca’s such a caring woman, traveling all that way to look after her ailing momma.” His voice dripped concentrated sarcasm. “Of course, you and I know differently, don’t we? Believe me when I say you will never disrespect your Master in such a way again.”

  Again? Does that mean he wants me back? Does that mean he still wants to marry me?

  She dared not think too deeply, for fear of being disappointed. Tyler wasn’t finished with her yet. Harder and harder blows continued to assault her naked butt cheeks, making her eyes water from the pain. She wouldn’t be able to sit down for a month after this, but it would all be worth it if Tyler wanted her back.

  “Master.”

  “Silence. Use only your safe word, otherwise shut up and take your punishment like a good girl.” He paused briefly then bitterly announced, “One more, this one will hurt the most.” It did. It hurt as much as all the others added together. “Twenty-one. Let that be a lesson to you. You are never out of my reach.”

  Rebecca buried her head in the duvet, trying yet failing to stifle her sobs. She heard Tyler breathing heavily from his exertion, and when he angrily hurled the paddle away, it clattered noisily to the floor. It all felt so surreal, like she was dreaming. The pool cast its eerie blue flickering light around the room, making shadows on the walls and ceiling, and a deafening silence hung in the air as they struggled to catch their breath.

  Her butt burned and throbbed, and she knew it was colored a bright red, which would undoubtedly change to a pulsing deep purple after a few hours.

  Still breathing heavily, Tyler finally broke the silence. “Don’t move.” A powerful, controlling hand pressed firmly between her shoulder blades, stilling any potential movement.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As her Master, Tyler had no regrets about punishing her. Rebecca had caused a lot of problems by disappearing from his life without a word. However, after reading her emotional letter, he also felt a genuine compassion and a newfound respect for the beautiful woman before him. She’d faced down and triumphed over so much adversity in her thirty-three years, and he knew he had only a limited understanding of how traumatic life must have been for a t
en-year-old little girl diagnosed with leukemia. From what she’d told him, her parents had looked after her well as a child. Monetarily at least, she had lacked for nothing, but both her parents were so wrapped up with their own high-flying lives that they seemed incapable of giving Rebecca the one thing she craved most of all—love. Perhaps Rebecca’s grandparents had been emotionally cold, too. This was sometimes the case, and it often followed that this loveless attitude could be handed down from generation to generation with negative consequences. So perhaps he shouldn’t judge Rebecca’s parents too harshly.

  After administering twenty-one strokes of the paddle as punishment, Tyler still felt a little wound up, but the initial fury had now dissipated sufficiently for him to take pity on Rebecca. The soft light coming from the pool outside drifted across her half-naked body, leaving intriguing shadows on her bare, reddened ass. She lay there statue still and incredibly beautiful. He’d ordered her not to move and she seemed to be complying. No movement showed, save for her almost silent breathing, gently lifting and lowering her exquisite rib cage from the mattress. Tyler adored the way her presently glowing butt was slowly changing from a vibrant red to a deep, lustrous purple. He hadn’t held back with his discipline, but then she hadn’t used her safe word, either. He knew it had been a therapeutic and sexually arousing experience for them both.

  Rebecca still lay on her stomach, her hands secured behind her back by her blouse. Tyler had been so angry when he’d first seen her after twenty-one days apart he’d ripped the flimsy garment down her arms hard, perhaps too hard. Her eyes were still tightly closed as he leaned over her, and when he saw a million tiny, crystalline teardrops clinging to her lashes, his heart melted a little. He had the best of both worlds with Rebecca. On the one hand she was a strong, powerful, independent woman, yet on the other hand she was still the vulnerable girl who needed the guidance of her Master.

 

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