by Vivian Gray
He didn’t say anything. I figured corner time meant quiet time as well and decided to just keep quiet. It occurred to me that I could just get out of the corner and leave. I could walk out the front door. He wouldn’t hurt me, not really, I knew that deep down. But I also knew if I stalked out of the house, he would be pissed. He may let me go, but he’d make me regret it later.
And I would let him.
I sighed. He had me all twisted up in knots. Even when he was clearly the one in the wrong, I submitted to being sent to the corner like some naughty girl.
“I was deployed twice, each time for eighteen months,” he murmured. “I’m not going to tell you what happened over there. I did those things, lived those moments, not you. I don’t want you to even have the slightest image in your head of what it looked like. So I won’t tell you.”
The graveness of his tone told me more than his words could. Whatever experiences he had, they were things nightmares were made of.
“Sometimes I have nightmares, flashbacks – whatever you want to call them. It’s pretty rare these days, but sometimes it happens.”
I kept still and silent in the corner, letting him have the space he needed to get the words out.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I turned around. “I was more afraid for you. You were so angry, so unsure. I wanted to help, but you just pushed me away.”
He used his finger to make a twirling motion. I sighed and rolled my eyes but turned back around.
“I wasn’t pushing you away. It’s not something I like talking about, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore tonight.”
I pressed my forehead into the corner. He’d given me something. He’d opened up, maybe just a fraction, but it was more than he’d been willing to do half an hour ago. I wouldn’t push, not now.
“But I do want to talk about you disobeying me and throwing a tantrum.”
“I did not,” I said but didn’t turn around to defend myself. That voice he was using had gotten my insides working again. My nerve endings came alive.
“I told you to go to bed. You didn’t. I told you to go back to bed. You didn’t. I told you I didn’t want to talk about it yet, and you kept pushing. Stomping your foot, slapping my counter, raising your voice to me.”
“It was an argument, Noah,” I said in a hard tone. “Couples argue.” I wished I’d had the nerve to face him.
“Are we a couple?”
“I… don’t know what the hell we are, but people argue.”
“Yeah, people argue.” I heard the bed creak and knew he’d gotten up. I could feel him getting closer to me, and I imagined the hard lines of his muscles moving with each step. Fuck he was hot even in my imagination.
“But my girls don’t behave like that.”
“Your girls? There are more, besides me?”
His hands rested on my shoulders. “No. There’s just you. Now tell me, you did some reading about dominants?”
Of course he would want to go back to that topic. Why not gnaw on my embarrassment for a little while longer.
“Yes.” I wasn’t giving him more than that, no matter what.
“Like what you read?”
At first, I said nothing, but his fingers dug into my shoulders, his body pressed against my back. He’d taken away all of my personal space, invaded me on every end.
“Yes.” Again, it was enough; I wouldn’t allow more than that.
“Then you understand sometimes the rules aren’t fair. Sometimes you take a punishment because I want you to, not because it’s fair or because you want it.” His voice wrapped around me like silk.
“That’s not really beneficial to me, is it?” I asked, hoping to sound coy. Although it was a fair question, I had learned a lot in my reading. And fair didn’t really work in a BDSM relationship. And that’s what this was. He was my dominant; he owned me.
“Oh, I think it is, but I think you’re still fighting it a little. That’s okay, you’ll learn. Just like after I take you over my knee in a minute, you’ll learn not to raise your voice to me and to always be my good girl. Even when you’re mad.”
His breath hit my ear as he came closer to me. My pussy was already becoming wet from his tone of voice, but the image of being thrown over his knee like a bad girl really had me going.
“I don’t want to be punished,” I said honestly. The last time he’d punished me it hurt for days afterward.
“Too bad.” He gripped my arm and pulled me around, towards the bed. In one swift move, he sat down and pulled me over his lap. I fumbled to get my balance, but he shifted me, so my torso laid over the bed.
Opening his legs, he draped one over my thighs. I was completely trapped. He pulled up my shirt and rested his hand on my ass.
“Just because you’re angry doesn’t give you the right to misbehave. And you don’t get to disobey me when I tell you something. You should have waited until I was ready to talk. You should have listened, and you shouldn’t have yelled at me.”
Okay, I could understand all of that, but it wasn’t fair I was about to be spanked when he started the whole thing.
“I’m not accountable to you. I’m accountable to me, and when I act like an asshole, I’m aware of it. I feel it. I know if I hurt you and I do feel it, but you don’t get to punish me for it. That’s not how this works. It’s not how I work.”
I put my hand back and spread my fingers over my ass. “I don’t want a spanking, Noah,” I said, half lying to him.
“You may not want one, but you’re getting one. And what you really don’t want is for me to back down. If I did, you’d be going to bed frustrated and mad.”
He pushed my hand away. And I knew he was right. I’d sensed it. If he gave in and let me up, I would have a sense of longing.
In such a short time, I’ve become accustomed to his dominance. If he gave in now, and let me walk away, I would miss it. He had done wrong too, but it was my reaction that I had to pay for – the consequences of what I’d done.
“Do you get that, sweetheart? Do you understand that your behavior is what we’re addressing right now, not mine?” He ran the tips of his fingers over my bottom, caressing me in a soft, sensual way that hadn’t suggested he was about to spank me for being a naughty girl.
“Yes, sir. I do.” And I did. I was accountable to him. And the idea turned me on and made me feel safe.
In the arms of this outlaw, this man I barely knew, I felt safer than I ever had in my life. Because I knew he wasn’t just taking care of me because I’d been bad. He was taking care of me because everything about me now fell under his authority. If something bad happened to me, he would be there to help. He would be there to protect and to stop anything coming at me that I couldn’t handle on my own. Because now that I had him I didn’t need to handle things on my own.
He didn’t say anything else, just begin spanking. The slaps were soft at first, going all over my ass, then a little harder. He was careful, meticulous, purposeful in the spanking. I started to think he was going to go easy on me, that he understood I wasn’t totally at fault, and he was going to go.
“There, that should be a pretty good warm-up.” He patted my bottom.
I swallowed hard but didn’t look back at him. I knew what I would see. Determination.
The next SWAT came hard, right on the upcurve of my ass. Then he moved down to my thighs, peppering smacks up and down both thighs and all around my ass, leaving not a single square inch of my flesh without a burning fire sensation. I began to wiggle because, well, it hurt. It didn’t stop him though, and he had my legs trapped beneath his. I had nowhere to go.
I tried to scramble off his lap, pulling at the bed for some leverage, but it didn’t matter. He was too strong. He held me too tightly. I flung my hand back, trying to protect some portion of my bottom.
“Move your hand, or I’ll hold on to it. If I have to hold on to it, I’m going to get my paddle.”
I groaned. The paddle didn’t sound bette
r; it sounded way worse. Slowly, I retracted my hand and reached forward to grab one of the pillows, stuffing my face into it.
“When you’re being punished, you take your spanking without fighting me. You can wiggle because I know it hurts, but you don’t try to get in my way. Understood?” He dragged his nails across my tender flesh, and I whimpered.
“Yes, sir,” I said when he hadn’t seemed to be willing to continue until he got a response.
And, as I suspected, as soon as I finished speaking, the spanking began again. Tears burned my eyes, and I renewed my vigorous wiggling. He had said I could wiggle, after all, so I took that and ran with it.
“Please. I’m so sorry. I won’t yell at you again. Please. I’m sorry.”
I had no shame in begging for him to stop. My ass was on fire, and I wanted him to stop. Needed him to stop. Because the inside of me was just as hot. There was something else I needed him to do. There was another fire I needed him to put out.
He kept going for a dozen more swats and then stopped. Rubbing my sore and tender flesh with his warm hand, he remained silent. Maybe he was giving me time to calm down. I hadn’t started blubbering like the last time he’d punished me, but I was taking long, drawn-out breaths.
“Spread your legs for me,” He moved the leg trapping me and pushed my right leg out until I was in a position he wanted. Lifting his left leg up, he pushed my ass higher in the air. “So wet.” He dipped his finger into my pussy. Slowly, he slid two fingers into my passage, and I groaned with the delicious sensation his fingers caused.
“Oh, Noah.” I moaned as he purposefully fucked me with his fingers. I arched my back, giving into him, taking everything he was willing to give me.
He pulled his fingers out, and moved from beneath me, keeping me bent over the bed. Before I had even registered that he’d moved, I felt the head of his cock at my entrance. I shot him a grin over my shoulder and planted my feet on the ground, propping my ass higher for him.
His hands gripped my ass cheeks, sending a new burn through me as he pulled them apart wide. I looked down at my puckered asshole. “One day I’ll fuck you there, too.” It was a promise. A dark, dirty promise that sent a shiver through me. “But for today, I’m taking this pussy. My pussy.” He thrust inside, letting go of my ass and leaning over the bed, pinning me to the mattress.
“Yes… Yours… Your pussy…” I said, gripping the sheets hard and focusing on the electric current his cock sent through me.
“Your ass is hot against me.” He kissed the tender spot behind my ear. “Why is it hot?”
“Because you spanked me,” I murmured, proud that I could even form words while his cock continued to plow into me.
“Why?”
“I was a bad girl,” I whispered, then moaned. His hand snaked beneath me, his fingers finding my clit.
“And bad girls get spankings. But what do good girls get?” He rubbed my clit harder, circling and teasing it.
“Fucked. Good girls get fucked. I was a good girl!”
“Oh yeah? How?”
What I wanted to know was how could he think so clearly.
“I took my spanking. I didn’t fight you,” I answered, thrusting my hips back, wanting more of him.
“Yeah, you did.” He sounded awfully pleased.
“Oh, fuck. Noah!” I barreled closer to the edge. “I have to come. Please. Please let me come.” The man had me begging for everything tonight.
“You can come after you count to ten. Count loud and then you can.”
Was he trying to kill me? Did women die from orgasm delay? Because I was pretty damn close.
“One,” I called out, taking a moment to feel him. No matter how close to the edge I was, every fucking thrust of his dick made me lose my breath, my train of thought. Hell, my heart would stop if he made it feel any better.
“Keep going, sweetheart,” he said, his smile coming through his tone.
“Two… Three… Four…” I rattled off numbers, not sure if they were even in the right order until I got to ten. As soon as I’d called the last number, he pushed his fingers roughly against my clit and thrust hard into me.
I unraveled beneath him, clawing at the bed, screaming his name. The floodgates had been opened, and the waves overtook me. I’d never come so hard in my life. It left me shaken and spent. I heard him grunt, and felt his cock stiffen and pulsate in my passage, but I was lost. Too lost in my orgasmic haze to register it all.
I felt his kisses trail down my back. He’d slipped out of me, but I hadn’t moved. I heard him chuckle.
“Spankings make fucking better,” he said when he pressed a warm, wet washcloth to my sex, cleaning me up.
“Everything with you is better,” I mumbled.
“Good.” The washcloth went away, and he helped me back into bed. “Now, you stay here and sleep. Got me? No more disobeying.”
I nodded. Right. I’d been naughty.
So why did I feel so damn good?
Chapter Ten
Noah
My girl snored. Not loud and obnoxious, just a little cute snort here and there while she slept. After I put her back to bed, I slept on the couch. I hadn’t wanted to chance having another nightmare. I could have hurt her. And I did not want to do that.
But then I got up early, made some coffee, went to go check on her, and that was when I heard the little snorts. She was sprawled out on my bed – one arm flung over her head and her legs spread, one cream thigh on display. So, so easy to slip into bed and take her again. God knows I wanted to. The T-shirt she wore, my shirt, had ridden up while she slept, exposing her sex. But she would be tender.
I hadn’t taken it easier on her either time we’d had sex the night before.
Other girls, I wouldn’t have cared. I would have just dived into bed and took what was mine. Being sore would’ve been their problem. Being sore would’ve been a gift I gave them. But Shannon was different. I wanted her to rest. I wanted her to be safe, warm, and comfortable.
Maybe it was because she had my baby nestling in her womb. Or it could be because she had warmed her way into my life. What started out as a one-time thing, a taste of forbidden fruit, had quickly turned into something so much more. Something I couldn’t wrap my head around. Something I wasn’t sure I’d be able to let go of.
She had called us a couple last night. Said couples argued. She was right; couples did. But we weren’t like other couples. We had a connection that I’d never had with another woman. I couldn’t explain it, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to bother to try.
I let her sleep a little while longer and then gently nudged her awake. I knew she had a late shift again today, and I hadn’t wanted her to be late for work. She groaned but dragged herself out of bed.
While she took a shower, I made breakfast. I needed to get in touch with Jude – stop by the clubhouse to see if we had a run today. The idea of getting on my bike usually excited me – the adventure and thrill of whatever job Joker handed out – but it wasn’t so thrilling today.
I wanted to stay with Shannon. I wanted to swing by her house and make sure she had everything she needed and check out her prenatal vitamins to make sure she was taking them. And she still hadn’t told me when the next doctor’s appointment was.
It made my head rush – her saying we were a couple – but I wouldn’t backpedal out of it. I was still a little annoyed that she hadn’t said she was willing to tell anybody that I was the father of the baby. Small steps, I guessed. She just needed some time to get used to the idea.
Shannon stepped into the kitchen, her short hair still wet from the shower and her glasses perched on her nose.
“I didn’t bring my contact stuff with me,” she said when she caught me staring.
I smiled. She had no fucking idea how amazing she looked, glasses or not.
“You don’t have to wear them,” I said, pouring a cup of coffee and walking over to her. She reached for the cup, but I pulled it away. “You’re not supposed to have coff
ee.”
“I can have some coffee.” With a wry smile, she reached for my cup again.
“I don’t want you having any coffee.”
While she had been reading up on ‘dominance and submission’, I’d had my nose in a few books myself. When Sally, my younger sister, had gotten pregnant, I’d ordered ‘what to expect’ books for her. They hadn’t made it to her in time, but I’d kept them. Finally, they were coming in handy.
And one thing that all the books said: Too much caffeine during pregnancy is bad.
“You’re a nurse; you should know that.”
