by Qwillia Rain
“Not enough?” he asked.
Ariel didn't bother to reply; she glared past him as if he weren't there.
“Discipline is required to reinforce the rules when a sub disobeys,” Dane explained.
“I'm not your damned sub,” Ariel snarled.
“When you enter the office, you are. Whether I'm there or not, you agreed I am master there.”
“It was only a couple of muffin pans.”
His fingers gripped her chin and held her face close to his as he pushed into her space.
“Which I ordered a week ago when you first mentioned it. They haven't arrived because they're on back order.”
Ariel's ire deflated. “Oh.”
“Exactly.”
“If you had told me all this—”
“Why should I? It isn't required for me to explain the whys. You're the one who has to remember to follow the rules, Tink.”
“Okay, fine. Point taken. Are we done?”
Dane sighed and shook his head. “Huff and puff, pixie, but the lesson isn't over until you've learned it.”
“What do you mean?” She turned her head to watch him walk away from the table and head down the hall toward the office.
“Dane? Dane!” When he didn't respond, she returned her gaze to the empty dining area in front of her. Ariel waited and fumed, but she didn't try to work her way off the table. Let him have his little lesson. It was no skin off her nose.
The sound of footsteps had her twisting her head to peer toward the hall and see him amble toward her, a worn leather bag the size of a weekender suitcase gripped in his left hand. There was no way in hell, no matter what he did, that Ariel intended to admit Dane was right. Even if he was.
And she'd be ice-skating with the devil before she'd acknowledge Dane's ability to master her desires. So what if he turns me on and is the only lover who's been able to give me multiple orgasms. No reason to make his ego any bigger than it already is.
The leather case was set on the table beside her ribs. Her cheek rested on her upper arm as she watched him unzip it and reach inside. A bottle of lube as well as the vibrant blue butt plug he'd used on her yesterday was placed on the table near her elbow. The thumping of her heart increased, and her bottom twitched at the remembered sting of the device.
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A silent curse whispered in her mind as she felt the response of her body dribble along the insides of her thighs. Sharp blue eyes detected the flex and squeeze of her legs as she pressed them together.
“Have you ever played with pain, Tink?” he asked. His hands rested on the open lip of the bag.
“Played with pain?” she croaked. Her mind conjured visions of iron maidens, stretching racks, and other implements of torture from the Middle Ages. “Do I look crazy? Who the fuck would enjoy pain?” She tried to inject a note of heavy disdain in her voice, but judging by the way one side of his mouth kicked up in a grin, Ariel was sure he saw her protests for the empty complaints they were.
“Are you telling me none of your boyfriends tried to talk you into other toys besides a butt plug?” He reached into the bag and pulled out a length of silver chain with clamps at each end.
Ariel recognized the nipple chain from her trip through the adult store. A zing of sensation tingled through her breasts. Her nipples grew rigid and ready as they pressed against the table.
Her mouth was unable to form the words to respond. Instead she shook her head.
Holding her gaze, Dane placed the chain on the table between her bound arms. “What about paddles, floggers, maybe a whip?” he asked. From the bag he pulled out a brown leather paddle and a small flogger with flat red leather thongs and a braided handle of red and black leather.
Ariel knew her eyes grew wide with each item he set on the table. Her pussy ached, desperate to be filled. Stretched across the table, she squirmed, pressing her thighs together to dull the urges building inside her.
A small coiled whip was the last item removed, but Dane didn't set it down. He watched her face, summed up something in his head before he spoke again. “Hmm, I don't think you're quite to this level yet.” Dane returned it to the bag and dropped the leather carryall off the table.
Ariel felt her bottom flex, stimulated muscles still sore from the last time she'd taken the plug up her ass. In her mind, based on the fire blazing over her skin at the thoughts, she could almost feel the sting from the strap of leather as it connected with her posterior. Anticipation spiked through her, twisting her core into knots. Her fingers gripped the silk tie binding her wrists. I will not give in. I will not give in. The words became her mantra as she watched Dane tuck the flogger into the back of his slacks.
“Is spanking the only form of punishment for a submissive?” She croaked out her question, her voice thick with arousal and curiosity.
He nodded. “It varies from person to person.” He returned to the front of the table and crouched down to stay face-to-face with her.
“And you think getting my ass tanned will keep me from breaking your rules?” The excitement built inside. She was on the brink of climax at the thought of his applying the flogger or the paddle to her backside. She hoped her expression didn't betray her excitement. When she glimpsed the flicker of amusement in his blue eyes, Ariel began mentally reviewing the litany of curses she knew.
“You like it, don't you, Tink?” He tugged the flogger from his waistband and dangled it over her hands; the knotted ends barely brushed the backs of her fingers. “When I took you over my knee on the third day, I could see it.”
“See what?”
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“How it turned you on. How the slap of my hand against your bottom made you wet.”
Ariel spluttered and stammered. “I did not! That's a damned lie.”
“No, sprite, your act of outraged denial is a lie.” He stood up and caressed first her left arm, then her right with the leather thongs of the flogger. “I can smell how hot you are. I'll bet your pussy would soak my hand if I put it between your legs right now.”
Ariel stayed mute, determined not to admit how right he was.
He didn't balk at her tight-lipped silence. The leather smoothed over her shoulder and along her back; it raised chill bumps wherever it touched. Every muscle in her body tensed to keep from arching into each stroke as he worked the strands down her back and over her bottom.
“You want this, don't you?” Dane taunted. He flicked the handle, snapping the thongs over her ass.
She bowed upward; a moan slipped free.
“So responsive.” His breath warmed her cheek and stirred the soft tendrils of her hair beside her ear. “And such a shame.”
“Wh-what?”
He gathered the paddle from the table and knelt to return it and the flogger to the bag.
“You're not—Are you finished?” Ariel stammered out her question. Desire twisted tight inside her belly. Disappointment arrowed through her when she considered the possibility that Dane might not use the paddle or flogger on her.
“Oh not yet.” Dane rose and picked up the nipple clamps.
Ariel propped herself on her elbows. Her gaze followed him as he dangled the chain from his fingertips.
“But you must remember, punishment is not about giving you pleasure, Tink. And you would enjoy a sound flogging or a good paddling far too much.” He gathered the clamps into his palm and tucked them into his pocket before stepping away.
“So what, then? If it's not going to be a spanking?” She watched him cross the café to the front windows, his every step measured with a deep breath as she tried to calm her hammering pulse. The want stayed stubborn, refusing to subside. “What are you doing?” Unease rose to fight for supremacy within her chest.
“Setting the stage.” He wandered from one window to the next, twisting the rods and adjusting the closed shades to allow a bit more light into the café.
From her position draped over the tab
le, Ariel trembled at the thought of someone looking through the windows to see her. “Stop, Dane.”
He ignored her and went to the last set of blinds.
“You can't seriously expect me to allow you—”
Dane walked from the front of the café to the hallway. Lights were extinguished, leaving the dining area lit only by the emergency lights from the kitchen and the late-afternoon sunshine filtering through the windows. “You seem to dislike public displays of affection, Ariel.”
He returned to the table and stood in front of her; his gaze held hers as she shifted on the table in an attempt to get free. She glared up at him. “They're not bad. As long as I keep my clothes on.”
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“Or when it's not you you're bringing attention to, but someone else.” Dane's hands slid the buttons on his shirt free, and then he shrugged out of it. He draped it over the legs of an overturned chair close by. He took his time as he stripped out of his shoes, socks, trousers, and underwear. The tip of his aroused cock glistened with moisture.
A tiny voice in her mind cheered at the evidence of his interest. But her mouth went dry at the concept of a stranger peeking through the blinds to see them.
“How can you think embarrassing me like this can be beneficial? It's humiliating. Not to mention dangerous. If anyone passed by and decided to look through the shades, there could be problems for the café,” Ariel argued. She watched him pass her. Twisting her head, she lost sight of him as he repositioned himself behind her. The feel of coarse hair on the insides of her legs sent a warm tickle of sensation through her lower body.
“Punishment is finding a consequence that acts as a deterrent to a sub's behavior.” The rip of cellophane was followed by the distinct sound of a condom being rolled over flesh. Soon after, his hands smoothed over her back, caressed her hips, lifted her as his cockhead rubbed between the plump, wet lips of her pussy.
Ariel was torn. Her body screamed for satisfaction, but her mind was focused on the shadowy figures passing on the sidewalk on the other side of the glass and fabric barrier. “Dane, please. Close the shades.”
The first inch pressed forward, nudged past the entrance of her body. “No.”
“Please,” she begged, even as her body rocked backward, deepening his penetration.
The heat of his chest covered her back, the warm, muscled contours of his arms bracketed her, his hands cupped hers. “Watch the windows, Tink.” He pushed harder, completing his possession and absorbing the shudder of acceptance pulsing through her body.
“I can't. Not with the shades open.” She gasped, and she rocked back into his rhythm, matched each thrust with her own, absorbing the shock of advance and withdrawal. Hoped he'd increase the tempo.
“You will, or I'll open them more.” Dane's threat wasn't empty. She could hear the determination in his voice through the sensations that swamped her common sense.
Ariel moaned. Her body spiraled closer to climax as he altered his pace. “Couldn't you have done something else?” The protest was instinctive. Her mind was separate from the warmth and heat engulfing her body.
“Only other option would have been more satisfying to you than a true sub,” he responded reasonably.
Ariel was baffled at how he could sound so rational and calm while his hips increased their tempo and began pounding into her. The wood of the table beneath her grew slick with the perspiration peppering her skin. Near her hips, the fluid of her arousal dampened the surface and smeared her body from pussy to belly button.
“What option— oh God, don't stop—what option was that?” Ariel gasped and moaned, her mind caught between giving in to the flood of sexual need inflaming her and understanding Dane's reasoning. She choked off a cry when she saw a shadow hesitate near the front door.
If he looked in, he would see her. Her cheeks were on fire; her breasts were sharp-tipped mounds stroking the polished wood. What exactly would he see if he did manage to look past the shades to the inside? After a long pause, the figure walked on, and Ariel breathed again.
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“Keeping me from you.”
Dane's matter-of-fact tone froze the breath in her lungs. Had she really come this close to meeting a man who knew how to stand up to her? Or is this another instance of his teasing me until I change my mind about him?
A firm thrust from behind sent Ariel's thoughts scattering to the winds. The underlying comment from his words echoed in her mind. When he mentioned separation from her, at the same time her climax broke loose, radiating from her core to her extremities, she couldn't smother the cold dread that struck her. The thought, the first inkling of such an offense, sent her heart slamming against her ribs in an attempt to escape. The idea of not being around Dane—of not having him to harass and torment—left her with a hollow sensation. But isn't that what I've worked toward? It's a contest to him. Keep it that way. Let him think it's just sex. I'll be safer that way.
His lips nipped her left earlobe as eddies of satisfaction washed through her in the aftermath of her orgasm. “Hopefully you'll remember this situation before you decide to forget who's the boss here again.”
She schooled her tone to stay calm. The words slipped free. “Only in the office,” she reminded him.
“For the time being.” Dane chuckled as he resumed his pace. He ignored her protests of being incapable of another fiery climax.
Passion spiraled upward, swept Ariel into the vortex, a cry on her lips, and another figure paused near the doorway. She held her breath and waited, gnawing her bottom lip raw in an attempt to subdue her vocalizations of pleasure.
Another laugh rumbled in Dane's chest and vibrated against her cheek. He never broke stride.
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Chapter Twelve
Day 25
Over a week later Ariel winced and shifted her stance at the twinge between her legs.
Leaning over the marble-topped counter, she smoothed the melted couverture into a thin layer, then scraped it back into a lump in the center of the stone. Each action was routine and familiar, unlike the thoughts zipping through her mind.
What the fuck had she been thinking ten days ago when she'd answered the door, knowing it was Dane on the other side? She shook her head, spread the chocolate out thin again, before repeating the process of corralling it into a pile in the middle of the stone. “I wasn't thinking,”
she replied softly. And were you thinking when he came home with you the next night? And the next? And the next? And what about when he tied you to the table? Or when he used a magic wand in your ass?
The muscles in her backside, hips, and legs trembled at the memory of the previous night's play and the activities Dane had subjected her to over the last week. “Enough already,” she snapped. The silicone paddle skittered across the marble, leaving uneven lumps of chocolate on the surface. Ariel tried to concentrate on gathering the mass into a pile again, even as she continued to argue with herself. “It's only sex. It's not like I'm hooked on the guy.”
So why were you biting off DeeDee's and Sadie's heads when they asked where Dane was?
And if he was coming back?
“I was not biting off their heads—”
“If you're talking about little chocolate bunnies, I might not be too concerned, especially if the poor buggers are part of that goo you're playing in.” Ariel turned from the counter at Dane's teasing comment.
Damn, he looked yummy in his faded jeans and navy blue T-shirt. So tempting, in fact, that to keep from jumping on him, Ariel gripped the paddle in her hand hard enough her knuckles turned white. In an effort to deny her interest in him, she turned back to the chocolate and scooped it into the bowl with the rest of the melted couverture. “Where've you been? I thought you had some billing to double-check?”
His warm hands coasted over her shoulders, tugging the collar of her shirt down to expose the base of her throat.
The soft stroke of his lips preceded the nip of his teeth and the rub of his tongue over the offended spot. “Miss me?”
Ariel fought the urge to relax back into his chest. Lifting one shoulder in an attempt to look unconcerned, she sniffed. “Not hardly.” She turned away, carried the stainless steel bowl to the other side of the counter, and stirred the contents, carefully blending the chocolate together.
“So what were you doing with that?” Dane nodded to the bowl.
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“Tempering the couverture.”
“Tempering?”
Ariel nodded. “It's a process that better incorporates the oils and cocoa so it keeps longer when I have to store it.”
Dane picked up the red silicone paddle and rubbed his finger along the edge. A wicked gleam lit his baby blue eyes as he leaned forward and smiled. “Hmm, I have to say, the thought of using this”—he held up the five-inch-wide utensil—“to spread some of that chocolate over your body certainly would have me wanting to keep something longer. Not to mention harder.”
Ariel rolled her eyes at the lame joke, but her body reacted. First her nipples went hard.
Then her pussy heated and grew moist, reaffirming her attraction to the dratted man. “Down, boy.” She kept her tone stern. “Remember where you are and who's in charge here.”
He set the tool down and crossed his arms over his chest. “Bad day?”
The bowl was left on the counter. Ariel forced herself not to shuffle when she crossed to one of the racks that held the various pots, pans, baking sheets, and tins. Twinges and protesting muscles made themselves known, but she worked to hide the evidence from Dane's keen gaze.
“It might have gone easier if I could have gotten some of my work done instead of answering the phone to find purchase orders.” She prepared the pan and poured the chocolate into it. “I had that damned cordless phone attached to my ear for so long today, it's a miracle I don't look like some hunchback.”
The scrape of the spatula against the bowl filled the silence as Ariel scooped the last of the chocolate into the pan to form. She carried the bowl to the sink and dropped it and the spatula into the hot, soapy water. “I mean, hell, you're the one who's supposed to be handling the office while my sister's away. I have enough to manage without your job on top of mine.”
