Under Contract

by Jeffe Kennedy

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought you were worried about being sweaty and wanted to take a shower?”

  Oh. Oddly disappointed—see? crazy—she turned to the shower. Ryan caught her by the arm, searching her expression. “Want company?”

  She did, but...

  “Talk to me, Celestina.” He got that stern look that made her insides go more liquid. “I can’t read your mind.”

  Though he sure seemed like he did at times. She sighed and sat on the fainting couch. “I’m not sure of the rules anymore.”

  He sat beside her, then bent down to unlace his black leather shoes. “What do you want them to be?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Do you keep paying me for sex? If you show up spontaneously like this, will you decide on the price later and transfer it?”

  “I didn’t for Sunday morning or last night,” he said quietly. “I abided by your wishes.”

  “I know. I appreciated it.”

  “But you haven’t explained them to me yet.”

  She made herself look him in the eye. “Because those moments were...special to me.”

  “They were special to me, too.” He stroked her cheek. “And?”

  Taking a steadying breath. “Remember when we met for lunch? And we kissed in the car on the way back to your office.”

  “How could I forget? It’s seared in my memory.”

  “Yeah. It was intense for me, too. And afterwards you paid me.”

  He regarded her soberly. “Yes.”

  Nothing more than that. Applying his negotiation skills, neatly putting the conversation back in her lap. “I was really angry at you about that.”

  Turning slightly on the couch, he faced her. “You never said so.”

  “I’m saying so now.”

  “Okay. Care to explain why it made you angry?”

  She rubbed her temples, then buried her face in her palms, leaning her elbows on her knees, sorry she’d said anything, feeling ridiculous in her jogging shorts and bra. “I’m not making any sense.”

  “Then let’s keep working at it.” His hand soothed down her back. “Let me hazard a guess. Because you felt like what happened in the car was outside the arrangement, that it was about emotion and spontaneity whereas the rest of what we’re doing sexually is business. That’s why you didn’t want me to give you money when we had vanilla sex in the kitchen or for the birthday party.”

  Sighing into her hands, she nodded. She was an idiot.

  “Celestina.” He stroked the back of her neck. “You’re laboring under a false assumption. I’ve never paid you for sex. Not once.”

  She straightened at that, dropping her hands and facing him. “Yes you have—I have the bank account to prove it.”

  “No.” He shook his head slowly. “I gave you money as a gift. Money I wanted to give you anyway. The rest was all a game. A kind of role-playing.” I’m finding that I greatly enjoy the idea that I own you, if only for the few hours you put yourself in my power.

  “But you like it. You said so—that you like the idea of feeling like you own me.”

  He smiled, feral and sharp, making her heart thud at the sensual promise. “Oh yes. Yes, I do. The money, however, means nothing to me, other than a means to an end. I’d give whatever you wanted to let me possess you. You fill a hole in me. I’d like to own you and never let you go. And, my precious Celestina, that is entirely emotional and nothing to do with business.”

  As they always seemed to, his words rocked her, touching her primal self, arousing her basest emotions.

  “I thought that you were getting a kick out of it, too. But if you aren’t, we need to talk about it. This is why you have a safeword.”

  “I do like it. When I’m in it, but...maybe I overthink things.”

  “Once it stops being emotional and goes back into the world of the intellect.”

  “Yeah.” She blew out a breath. “How I feel with you doesn’t always make rational sense. I’m trying to get better about making responsible decisions, and this aspect of things doesn’t fit neatly into any kind of logic.”

  “Forget logic for the moment,” he said softly, pulling her close to brush a kiss to her temple. “Not every part of the human animal fits into a rational model. Maybe it’s enough sometimes just to feel.”

  As always, it felt good to be lulled by his words, seduced into giving herself over to him.

  “I think you like being mine,” he whispered in her ear, that dark rasp that gutted her. “You love it when I take you over.”

  Her worries faded like so much mist—just as, a quiet part of her mind pointed out, he’d promised to do for her. Observing her reaction, he took her wrists in each hand, bracketing them. The gesture melted her further.

  God help her, she did. And he knew it.

  “Stand and strip for me, Celestina.”

  Chapter Thirty

  The erotic haze pulling a shroud around her mind, she obeyed, stripping out of her running clothes and standing naked before his glittering gaze, remembering to take the pose he’d taught her. Though he was barefoot, he still wore his business suit. In the edges of her vision, he was unknotting his tie, and her breathing accelerated in anticipation.

  “Turn around, wrists crossed behind your back.”

  Going gloriously wet, she obeyed, shuddering as he slid the diamond bracelet out of the way and the silk tie cinched her wrists tightly in place.

  “Lay yourself over my lap.”

  Uncertain, she caught his eye as she turned and he stared her down, the message implicit. She could safeword or she could obey. Restful to obey, to trust that whatever he had in mind to do to her would pleasure them both. Would stop the endless circle of her thoughts.

  He helped her into position, so she lay facedown on the fainting couch, the silk cool under her cheek, her bottom high, raised by his muscular thigh at the crease of her hips. Running a hand over her cheeks, much as he had as they walked out of the gym, he made a sound of appreciation. “You have a gorgeous ass, Celestina. Round and firm. It tempts me to all sorts of wicked ideas. I suspect a bit of a spanking will help you let go of your overthinking. Fortunately, I happen to be very interested in applying one.”

  She moaned and he traced his fingers down her cleft and into her folds. “So very wet. See? No thinking here, just responding.” He stroked a finger into her and she wriggled. His other hand clamped on her bound wrists, holding her firmly. “Just so you know, you will not be allowed to orgasm today. I have a plan. A little demonstration. By the way, I assume you’re amenable to whatever I decide—within the limits of what you’ve allowed so far—unless I hear one little word.”

  He withdrew his fingers and caressed her bottom again, stroking the moisture over her. Then his palm cracked against her skin and she gasped. Another followed, the sting sharper. She flinched, anticipating the next, but he held her in an unbreakable grip, raining a series of smacks that seemed to accelerate and build the pain. Her sharp cries morphed into a series of moans as her skin heated under his hand and the pain inexplicably turned into molten pleasure. Each slap of his hand felt like a stroke on her clit and she found herself grinding her mound against his thigh.

  “No, you don’t.” The stern warning struck her heart and she wanted to plead with him, for something. For mercy. For more. He adjusted the drape of her hips so she couldn’t rub against him and she pressed her face against the silk in utter frustration. Humiliating to be spanked like a little girl and yet mind-blowing.

  He continued to spank her, lightly for a while, then a series of smacks that broke through the sensual delirium. Her nose and throat clogged with tears and she started sobbing. This time, however, the emotion felt unconnected to anything or anyone. She simply wept. A hapless slave spanked on her master’s lap, because he wanted to.


  “Better.” Ryan’s voice came from a distance and he smoothed a hand over her fiery skin. “Your ass is a gorgeous shade, sort of deep rose. You’re supple and relaxed, as a good sex slave should be—don’t you agree?”

  “Yes, Master,” she breathed, feeling it in her bones.

  “Good. Stand.”

  He helped her to her feet and led her to a full-length mirror, letting her look at her backside with a hand mirror to see the reflection. Uncertain how to process that vision of herself, the knotted tie around her wrists and her bottom deeply red, she looked away and searched Ryan’s face. He ran a hand down her waist and over her hip. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “Mine.”

  Setting the hand mirror aside, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her in his leisurely and thorough way. She gave herself over to it, letting him hold her up and thankfully thinking of nothing at all.

  “Time for your shower,” he said and spun her around to remove the tie. “Go start it and get in. I’ll be right behind you.” He smacked her bottom to send her on her way and she yelped at the surprising sting on her sensitized skin.

  It felt odd to continue to obey him, even after he’d left the room. To be unfettered and still do what he’d told her to. It was what she would have done anyway, but doing it at his command only deepened the sexual haze. The water hit her skin with a million minute caresses. Almost painful on her swollen breasts and taut nipples. Definitely so on her bottom, as if on a sunburn. Her pussy throbbed with need and she ran her hands over her body, fingers drifting in that direction.

  Ryan stepped into the shower, naked and startlingly large in the confined space. He slapped her hands aside. “No.”

  He fastened a pair of cuffs around her wrists, then looped the chain connecting them above her head to a hook she hadn’t noticed before. Dangling there helplessly, she could do nothing but squirm and mewl as he set to vigorously washing her. He used a loofah with rose-scented body wash, scrubbing every inch of her thoroughly, taking the opportunity to tease and torment her at every turn.

  Grasping her ankle, he lifted her leg to prop her foot on a ledge inset in the wall, opening her folds to his gaze as he knelt at her feet and washed his way up her thighs. Enough sense parted the haze for her to say “Angel” for the first time. Another test.

  Looking up in polite inquiry, he raised his eyebrows. “We need to stop?”

  “No...just—no body wash in there, please. I’m sensitive to it. Or on my face.”

  He looked amused but set down the loofah and rinsed his hands. “All right. Is that all?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, where don’t you want me to put the body wash?”

  “Down there.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean. Give it a name.”

  She tugged on the restraints enough that he put a hand on her ankle to hold her in place. His other hand parted her slippery folds, fingers stroking. “Here?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s it called?”

  Her face burned with embarrassment, absurdly given her current position and what had transpired thus far. “My...vagina.”

  “Nice, but a little clinical.”

  “My pussy.” She felt naughty saying it and Ryan knew it, smile going wicked.

  “Ask me to lick your pussy.”

  “Oh, Ryan...”

  He slapped the side of her thigh. “Who am I?”

  “Master!”

  “Exactly. Do as I told you.”

  “Please lick my...pussy. Master.”

  Leaning closer, he opened her folds and breathed on her clit. The warm water from the several shower heads ran over the sensitized skin. “Ask me again. Politely.”

  She groaned, unable to tear her gaze away. “Would you please lick my pussy, Master?”

  He smiled at her, cat in cream. “No.” Taking up the loofah, he set her foot down, and turned her, so he could scrub her back. She fumed, feeling the ache of denial and his teasing games. He shampooed her hair, actually quite good at it, doing it twice and rinsing between.

  “Foot back on the ledge as before,” he instructed, then thoroughly soaped her bottom, scrubbing harder than he needed to over her tender flesh, holding her tight so she couldn’t pull away. As he washed her, he explored her, fingers drifting over her anus. “You keep bypassing options for this. Have you ever?”

  Moaning, she shook her head and pushed against his hand, tempted to tell him to do it now, if he’d let her come. He laughed and took his fingers away.

  “Not until you opt in, but I suspect I’m wearing you down. Soon enough.”

  The crinkle of a condom wrapper warned her, then the broad head of his cock nudged her slick channel. “Instead I’ll take my pleasure here.” He used his polite and charming voice—the cultured tones taught by a tutor—pressing into her easily with her so open to him. Holding her hips, he pumped lazily in and out of her. It hit her that, in this position, she wouldn’t be able to come. She growled in frustration, sounding totally unlike herself.

  He laughed and slapped the side of her hip, fucking her leisurely. “Ah, my little slave figures it out. Perhaps if you’re good, maybe one day I’ll let you come.”

  * * *

  She looked so sexual, so mind-blowingly gorgeous strung up in his shower, her ass reddened by his hand and thrashing against him, increasingly desperate for the orgasm she’d disdained in the past. He wanted to make the moment last forever, the exquisite clasp of her hot, aroused body. It got to her as he’d hoped, to be fucked without the rise to climax.

  Gripping her hips hard, he sought his own, thrusting into her and grunting louder than he might have, to tease her that much more. He finished on a shout that made her groan in despair, then pulled out, ditching the condom and soaping himself off while she hung in the restraints, panting with frustration.

  “Put your foot down.”

  She obeyed and he turned her, meeting her edgy glare. Not at all submissive but absolutely delightful. He kissed her on the forehead and turned off the water. “That was very nice. Wait here.”

  Pressing her lips together—no doubt containing a smart remark—she stared at him accusingly. He took his time gathering what he needed, letting her stew in her own juices, then returned to towel her off. Nice and slowly, letting her feel every inch of her skin. She wasn’t thinking about anything but her need now. That would be the key to getting her to agree to living with him, having her want what he could offer so badly that she couldn’t resist. Showing her that they could play these games in the privacy of a shower if need be, and discreetly in other locations, as he planned to demonstrate next.

  Once she was dry, he held up what he’d brought in for her, and her eyes widened.

  “This was on the list for that first night,” he told her conversationally, “but I decided against it then, for various reasons. That said, you never unchecked it, so I consider it fair game.” He caught and held her gaze. “After all, I already paid for it.”

  Her lips parted and she flushed. Yes, she still had an emotional charge about the money. They’d just keep working it until she got it out of her system. He fastened the chastity belt around her waist, adjusting it to fit snugly against the flare of her voluptuous hips, then drew the rigid mesh between her legs and up to lock at the back.

  “You’ll still be able to use the bathroom, in case you’re worried, but nothing will touch this hungry pussy of yours. Not until I decide it’s time. Not if you beg me. It won’t have anything to do with how good you are or how pitiful. I’ll take it off when I feel like it. Understand?”

  “Yes, Master.” She sounded miserable. And rebellious. Very nice.

  He unhooked her and unlocked the cuffs. “I’ll get your bag and bring your other clothes—give you some time to explore your new best friend.”

  Her
glare practically lasered the back of his skull, making him more cheerful than ever. An excellent morning’s work, all told. She wouldn’t be fretting about responsible decisions for the rest of the day. When he returned, wearing a fresh suit, with the bag and clothes she’d left upstairs, she was rubbing lotion into her skin with furious sweeps of her hands. Snatching her clothes from him, she snapped, “You can’t be serious about me wearing this thing.”

  “Dead serious. How does it fit?”

  “Perfectly, of course.” She fumed at his pleased smile. “What’s the point of this?”

  He sat on the couch and watched her dress, enjoying particularly when she figured out she wouldn’t be able to wear her panties over the device. “The point is always the same, Celestina—pleasure and release.”

  “Easy for you to say when you got yours.”

  “True.” Well worth juggling his schedule, too. “And you’ll get yours. Eventually.”

  She made a growling sound and finished putting on her clothes, checking in the mirror that the chastity belt didn’t make lines under her cotton shorts, then started in on her makeup.

  “Why did you use the room upstairs?” he asked. Might as well annoy her thoroughly, since she was already pissed.

  Eyeing him in the mirror, she brushed on eye shadow. “That’s the room Mrs. Matthews told me I should, that first night.”

  “Yes, but things have changed since then. You’ll share the master suite with me. Leave whatever things you like here.”

  “All by way of easing me into living with you.”

  “Whatever works. I like to get my way.”

  “Pushy as hell,” she muttered. But they’d come a long way since her agonized doubts earlier.

  “So this is how we’d play it,” he told her.

  She smoothed on red lipstick and he hardened again already, tempted to order her to her knees to suck him off, just to see it smeared on his shaft. But he needed to get back to the office and he’d given her plenty to stew about for one day.