The Bossman

by Renee Rose

She hadn’t exactly threatened Pauly, but she wasn’t going to argue. She understood what he meant.

  He continued paddling and lecturing. “And Never. Ever. Make choices that endanger both of our lives.”

  That gave her a sharp pang of guilt. She hadn’t thought about how she’d endangered his life as well.

  “Capisce?”

  “Capito!” she gasped.

  She heard the rustle of his movements behind her, but didn’t dare move from her prostrated position to see what he was doing. When she heard the squirt of a bottle and felt a cold moisture trickle down her crack, it became clear. The cold metal of the stainless steel butt plug she’d purchased pressed against her back hole.

  Oh God.

  She’d bought it for spanking play--not for a serious punishment. She squeezed her cheeks closed.

  “Open your ass to me,” he growled.

  His dominance made her pussy clench and her anus flare open. He took advantage of the reaction and pressed the plug forward, causing her to squeal as her opening stretched wide to accept it. Once it was seated, the sensation was a heady mixture of arousal, fullness and desire, which, combined with the throbbing of her well-paddled cheeks, turned her limbs to rubber. She moaned, wantonly.

  A whistle through the air sounded a split second before a line of fire scorched her bare cheeks. His belt. She balled her hands into fists around the bedspread, unable to follow all the sensations. He continued to whip her, the soft leather belt catching the base of the plug, causing it to jostle and move within her, amping her need even as he smarted her already sore bottom. She moaned and cried out as he brought her to the simultaneous brink of orgasm and breaking point with the pain. In a delirium, she blurted, “Please, I’ll be a good girl, I promise. I’ll be your good girl. Please!”

  The spanking stopped and she heard the belt drop to the floor. Large hands wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her up to stand, where she was enveloped in a full body embrace. She trembled in his arms, her mind void of thought, her ass on fire, her hole still filled with the thick plug.

  “You are my good girl,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head and swaying with her as if she were a child soothed by rocking. “You took that so well, little girl.”

  “Please,” she whimpered, “I need you.”He stopped swaying. “How do you need me?”“I want you. Now. Please, Joey?”He released her, stripping his clothes. She drank in the sight of him--his pure masculine virility. She wanted him to possess her. She hadn’t been able to make herself move to undress, still standing with her pants and panties around her thighs, her legs barely holding her. He grabbed her hips and pushed her back over the bed, his hands rough the way she craved. His fingers found her clit and she moaned as he made tight circles over it. She moaned louder when he began to push the butt plug deeper. Thrusting it in and out, he wound her need up into a tight coil of passion. Just when she hit the edge of orgasm again, he pulled it out.

  “Please,” she begged.

  A fresh dollop of lube landed on her now smarting hole and she realized his intention. A shudder of excitement and fear went through her at the thought of losing her anal virginity. She reached back, tentatively gripping her swollen cheeks and pulling them apart to welcome him, her heart thumping in a wild rhythm.

  “Oh God, Sophie,” he groaned. It was going to be impossible not to pound her into oblivion. She was so hot, spreading her blistered cheeks wide for him, offering herself with such humility.

  Think of Father Michael’s hairy ass. That had been his brother’s first sex advice to him to avoid ejaculating too soon. But it was impossible. He could only think of Sophie--the woman he wanted to make his in every possible way. But focusing on her did slow him down, because he wanted her pleasure more than he wanted his own. He returned two fingers to her clit, working the stiffened bud as he pressed the head of his cock at her back entrance and eased his way in.

  He made slow, direct strokes in and out, keeping his fingers busy exploring her wet, swollen pussy. She clutched at his hand, shoving his fingers into her sex. Two fingers, then three penetrated her hungry channel as her tight anus hugged his shaft. He listened as her mewling turned to pleading and then he couldn’t hold back anymore. Gripping her hips, he brought himself to climax.

  “Come, Sophie!” he commanded, slapping her pussy and she jerked, plunging over the edge with him.

  The release was more satisfying than he’d ever experienced, as all the pent up anxiety of the past week washed out of him under cascades of pleasure. He remained inside her for a long time, listening to the sound of their slowing breaths, the feel of his heart pumping in his chest. At last, he reluctantly withdrew and helped her climb up onto the bed.

  “Are you hungry, baby?”

  “Hmm mmm,” she mumbled, shaking her head. He went to the kitchen, anyway, preparing a plate of food and putting away the rest of her dinner preparations. When he returned, she was sound asleep on her belly, her face as relaxed and blissful as a child’s. “Soph?”

  She didn’t stir.

  “Baby, I’ve got some food.”

  She was sound asleep. He leaned over and kissed her temple, returning to the kitchen to eat, then brought his laptop into her bedroom and settled beside her to work.

  When he woke in the morning, the bed was empty, the sound of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen. He padded out say good morning and stopped in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. Sophie stood stark naked, flipping pancakes at the stove with her back to him, humming to herself. His cock saluted her efforts and he moved silently forward, wanting to watch her unobserved. She still wore his marks on her ass and he was surprised to find it turned him on. Perhaps it was her take on discipline, the way she got off on being punished, the way she’d offered herself to him so fully, made him feel like she belonged to him. The welts he’d left were his signature and considering the ending to her punishment, he had no regrets.

  He lifted himself to sit on the counter and enjoy the view.

  She turned and caught sight of him. “Good morning,” she said with an uncharacteristic shyness.“You can make me breakfast looking like that any time.”“Does that mean you’ll actually stay and eat the morning meal?”He gave a flick of one brow. “Oh yeah.”She slid a pancake off the spatula onto the heaping stack and turned off the stove. Walking to where he sat on the counter, she leaned close to him. “Are you still mad at me?”He stroked a finger along her jaw. “No. You know I stopped being mad long before I punished you, don’t you?”“I feel...” she pressed herself even closer. “I feel like I can’t get close enough to you,” her voice broke a little. “Like I want to crawl inside your skin.”He slid from the counter and wrapped his arms around her. “That’s funny, I was just thinking how I wanted to be inside you again, but it wasn’t exactly your skin I was thinking of...”

  She made a soft purring noise, which he took as encouragement. He maneuvered her to face the center island, lifting one thigh in the air to part her perfect cheeks. More flexible than he imagined, she lifted her leg further and rested the knee up on the counter.

  “Don’t move,” he said. Cock straining for its target, he fumbled for a condom, tearing it open with his teeth before freeing his length to roll it on.

  Her breasts fell down toward the counter as she rested on her elbows. He reached around and cupped one, rolling her nipple between his fingers as he slid easily into her honeyed slit. She pushed back at him, seeming eager for his invasion and he gripped her lifted thigh in one hand and her breast in the other, stabilizing her for his onslaught. He pushed in and out, losing himself in seeking his own pleasure, savoring the sensation of her tight channel, the impact of his balls against her ass, the sound of her little groans and sighs. With effort, he remembered his mantra and held himself back enough to think about pleasing his woman. Pulling out, he turned her around and lifted her up on the counter, parting her thighs and bending his head to her sweet pussy.

  “Ohhhh,” Sophie moaned, leaning on her
elbows, her head falling back. His tongue and his thumb worked in tandem on her clit, teasing and coaxing her to louder and louder moans. He knew when her thighs began to grip his head, she drew close.

  “Not yet, baby. Almost,” he murmured. Erecting himself, he stretched his legs to their full height and entered her, using his hands behind her ass to hold her in place as he pounded into her. He lost himself again in her damp heat, the feel of her trimmed pubic hair providing the additional sensation that would be missing with a girl who goes bare. “You are unbelievably hot,” he panted, watching the way her breasts fell to the outside, her hair spilled onto the counter. She gripped his forearms, fingers digging into his skin, her mouth open in ecstasy.

  “Now, Sophie. Come for me,” he commanded and she instantly bucked, as if waiting for his permission. He climaxed too, burying himself to the hilt inside her as he spent. When her spasms quieted, she sat up and threw her arms around his neck, sliding off the counter and straddling him like a koala.

  “Are you giving me another chance, Soph?” he asked hoarsely.

  Chapter Ten

  She rested her cheek on the side of his head. “Nothing’s changed, Joey.”

  “It will. I will change.” He tossed her in the air to readjust his hold under her butt. “I promised I would figure something out, and I will. Can’t you believe in me? You trust me enough to take a paddle to your ass, you can trust me to make you happy.”

  He must have sensed her disagreement because he lowered her to her feet and stared at her with a betrayed look on his face. “This is more than great sex to me. And I think it’s more than hot spanking to you.” He searched her face. “Or is it?”

  The vulnerability she saw in his eyes rocked her. Her nose burned and she bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. “I don’t know. Yeah, maybe,” she admitted. “But, Joey, I just can’t...I can’t do this. I believe you want to find a compromise, but I don’t think there is one. I mean, look at the situation--you’re acting as boss right now and you’re in the middle of a war. You almost got blown up last week! Joey, I do care about you--but I want no part of it.”

  “I want no part of it, either!” he yelled, picking up the empty coffee mug she’d set out for him and hurling it across the room where it smashed against the wall. She stared in shock, her own emotion somehow checked by witnessing his.

  “I’m sorry,” he said heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll clean it up.”

  “I’ll get it,” she said, moving to retrieve a broom and interrupted when he caught her around the waist and lifted her back. “Don’t. You’ll cut your feet. Stay right here.”

  She grabbed his arm as he turned away. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re in a bad position and I know you’re doing the best you can. I shouldn’t make you the bad guy.”He cradled her head in his hands, one thumb stroking the line of her cheekbone. “Thanks,” he whispered, lowering his head and pressing his lips over hers in a sensual, exploratory kiss. When he pulled away, he tucked the hair falling in her face behind her ear and peered into her eyes. “Give me a chance?”She let her forehead fall against his sternum, conceding defeat. “Do you ever take no for an answer?” she asked against his shirt. He kissed the top of her head. “Not when I really want something. Are you going to call my ma again?” She chuckled and lifted her head, allowing him to move away and clean up the broken glass. “That was a low blow, Sophie,” he said over his shoulder as he retrieved the broom from her pantry. How he’d even known where to look was a mystery. “Yeah, well I figured if there’s one person who has influence on a Sicilian man, it’s his mother.”

  Joey snorted, sweeping the broken ceramic into a neat pile. “If I were you, I’d be very careful how I wield that power.”

  Her nipples hardened at the threat and she suddenly wished she had at least worn a robe.

  “Do I still get pancakes?” he asked, dumping the broken shards into the garbage and conducting a second sweep.

  “Yeah. I’ll just get dressed.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” he said with authority.

  She giggled and ran for the bedroom, hearing the clatter of the broom hitting the linoleum floor and then the pounding of footsteps. He caught up to her just as she tried to shut the bedroom door and he picked her up and tossed her on the bed, falling on top of her and pinioning her wrists over her head.

  “That was very naughty, little girl,” he purred. “And you know what happens to naughty girls, don’t you?”

  She writhed under his grip, giggling. In one motion, he flipped her to her belly, still grasping her wrists with one hand as his other cracked down on her sore bottom. She howled in protest, the pain of her paddling the night before putting a damper on the eroticism of the present spanking. “Ow, ow, ow… please!” she begged.

  He rubbed her bottom. “That didn’t take long. Somebody’s sore, isn’t she?”

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  “Who wields the paddle around here?” he asked, giving her bottom another slap.

  “You do!”

  “So, if I say you’re eating breakfast in your birthday suit, what should you do?”

  “Tell you to go to hell?” she giggled, unable to stop herself.

  He started spanking her fast and hard and she twisted and bucked to get away from his hand. “No, no, no! I’m just kidding! Ouch! Please. I’ll be good, I’ll be good.”

  He rolled her to her back and pinched one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, tugging until she gasped. “You’d better be. My word is law around here and you’d better follow or there will be consequences. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now go get my breakfast, just the way you are.”

  “How about a T-shirt?”

  He snarled and slapped her breast, surprising more than hurting her.

  “All right, all right,” she pouted, so turned on she was ready for round two. He let her up and she trotted back to the kitchen and re-warmed the pancakes, slathering them with butter and heated maple syrup. “Chocolate chip pancakes,” she said, sliding them in front of where he sat at the table.

  “Mmm. Wait--” he said, reaching out and grabbing one of her butt cheeks as she turned away. “Did I say you could walk away? What if I need something?”

  A trickle of moisture dribbled down her leg. “I was going to make you coffee,” she said in a shaky voice.

  He slapped her breast again and her pussy clenched. “Did I ask for coffee?”

  “No, sir,” she said, feeling light-headed with arousal.

  “You may get me coffee,” he announced loftily. “And bring a wooden spoon, while you’re at it.”

  Her belly tightened with anxiety, even as her heart raced with excitement. She brewed him a latte and served it along with the wooden spoon, this time standing beside him, waiting to be dismissed. He ignored her for a few moments, eating his pancakes, then scooted his chair back. “I’d like that bare ass over my lap now. “

  She sucked in her breath and obeyed, grasping the rungs of his chair, her hair falling down around her head like a curtain. Nothing happened for a long time and she realized he was sipping his coffee, making her wait in the humbling position. She imagined his view as he sat at the table, her bare bottom presented to him, still marked from the spanking he’d given her the night before. Oh Jesus. The heat between her legs made her squeeze her thighs together to alleviate it.

  The spoon popped down on one buttock and she jumped, pinching her cheeks together, as if that might somehow protect them.

  “Owwww, Joey!” She protested more loudly than the spank had warranted, but she wanted to be sure he didn’t go too far on her already tender flesh. The other side received the same treatment.

  “Let’s talk about my mother for a minute.”

  Oh boy.

  His arm came around her waist and she tightened her grip on the rungs, realizing his bracing her could only be for one reason. The spoon rained down on her poor, exposed bottom, smarting the
entire surface with quick smacks.

  She howled.

  “You do not ever take relationship advice from my mother. Capisce?”

  “Capito, capito!”

  “And do not enlist her in any battle against me.”

  She squirmed and wriggled, still trying in vain to dodge his implement. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!”

  The spanks stopped and his hand trailed slow circles around her bottom. “I could definitely get used to this,” he said softly.

  “What?”

  “Spanking you.”

  He lifted her to stand and pulled her on his lap. Her nipples jutted out in sharp points, her cheeks flushed with color and her body trembling. He leaned forward and took a bite of pancake, as if he always ate breakfast with a naked, turned-on woman sitting in his lap, dampening his pants with her desire. He chewed slowly, then reached for another bite. Only then did he acknowledge Sophie, offering her the forkful of fluffy goodness. She ate hungrily, rocking her pelvis on his thigh as if being fed wound her up even further.

  He only had to think of Father Michael’s hairy ass five times to make it through feeding her without breaking his bossman character and going to town on the breast that was dangerously close to his mouth. It was all over, however, when a drip of syrup landed on her sternum. He spun her to face him and licked a line from one nipple to the other, nipping at the end point with his teeth.

  She gasped and arched into him. He pulled out his wallet to search for another condom, groaning when he came up blank. “Do you have any condoms, Soph?” he murmured against the smooth skin of her neck.

  She sagged. “No, I’m sorry.”

  One part of him was glad she didn’t keep condoms, as if it were proof he was the only guy she did this sort of thing with, the other part cursed silently.

  She backed off his legs and lowered to her knees, holding his eyes with a seductive gaze that imparted her intent. Oh God. Hell, yeah. She gave the best blowjobs in the entire state of Illinois; no, make that the entire Midwest.