by Piper Stone
After darting a glance at the upper floor, her breathing ragged, she nodded. “Will you spank me?”
There’d been many women he’d spanked over the years, some fighting him every step of the way. This was entirely different, the rosebud finally opening. “Come with me.”
Every part of his being was on fire, the embers remaining ignited from the night before, but this was a new level.
The room was exactly what he’d requested, the simple ‘X’ cross and spanking bench a mere taste of what could occur in the future. He caught himself with the thought, realizing that there wasn’t going to be a next time. This was merely a glorious end to a very satisfying moment in time. What impressed him the most was the wooden chair, the hole in the middle of the seat a perfect fit for the Hitachi vibrator.
“What do you see?” he asked as he watched her move from one apparatus to the other, brushing the tips of her fingers across the smooth wood on the cross and bench.
“Pain.”
“As I mentioned, with pain there is pleasure, at least for the majority.”
She held her breath as she stood in front of the cross. “And again, I’m not the majority.”
“You are right. You are extraordinary.”
Her attention was drawn to the other corner of the room. She stopped short in front of the chair, dragging her tongue across her lips.
“Only if you’re a good girl. Undress,” Wrath commanded as he walked toward the ornate cabinet, anticipating an array of implements to choose from. Hearing nothing, he snapped his head in her direction. “What did I tell you before? Any hesitation will mean your discipline is much more severe. Is that what you want, to push me, challenge me in every manner?”
“No, sir.” Her entire face was shimmering in the dim lighting, excitement building.
Wrath nearly lost his concentration, his hunger off the charts, but this was about so much more than just simple fucking.
“Then undress. I will not ask you again.” He heard the noise as she dropped her shoes on the floor, knew that she was sliding out of her dress. His choice was a leather tawse and a birch cane, two of his favorites. They would not only provide a solid punishment but provide a moment of ecstasy as well. His balls tightened at the thought. He would give her the ultimate kind of pleasure, her entire being craving what only he could provide.
When he finally turned around, she’d obeyed, her face more serene than he would have imagined. She was stunning. “Then we begin.” He guided her toward the cross, easing her quivering body against the thick wood. She positioned her body without being told, raising her hands over her head. After securing her wrists, he rubbed his fingers down each arm, reveling in the goosebumps popping along her naked skin. “Too tight?”
“No.” She shuddered, her mouth pursing as she clenched her fists.
He slid the tip of his index finger down her spine to the cleft in her ass, moving ever so slowly down her right leg. Surprised he was so electrified, he took several deep breaths before fastening the thick leather bands around her ankles. He stood back, admiring his prize before moving to the side, allowing her to see him. “This is going to hurt.”
“I know,” she half whispered. While there was nothing frail about this woman, she seemed even more vulnerable, trusting him implicitly. He would not betray her trust.
The tawse felt light in his hands and he rubbed the thin leather ends, marveling in the sensations rocketing through him. There was always a calm that occurred when he held an implement in his hand, as if he’d been born into the concept of control. A woman submitting to him was special indeed, no matter the consequences.
Taking a step back, he swung the tawse in the air, allowing his wrist to crack. He adored the sound and the feel in his hand.
She gave a strangled moan, the sound clipped but full of apprehension.
“Twenty,” he said with no reservation, issuing the first strike.
“Fuck!” Her entire body tensed, the exclamation filtering into the dense air.
He snapped his wrist again, making certain the strike was in the exact position he desired. The instant warm blush on her bottom nearly drove him to rip her away from the cross, fucking her like a wild beast. He took another deep breath before continuing, striking her bottom several times.
Her entire body seemed to be on fire, jerking every time the tawse was slapped against her skin. Moans turned into whimpers, laced with the most sublime guttural purrs.
Wrath closed the distance, rubbing his fingers across both ass cheeks. “I love the marks. My marks.”
Ashley shifted, struggling to see him. While she said nothing, her eyes spoke volumes. She was excited, invigorated in a way she wasn’t accustomed to.
“Twelve more,” he managed.
“Yes. Sir.”
He realized his hand was actually shaking, something that had never occurred before. He stared at it, as if everything about this moment was foreign. He’d always been controlling, in life, business and in dominating a woman. Why and how had she managed to get under his skin? Snarling, he pushed the odd sensations aside and peppered her ass with hard spanks, cracking the strap one after the other. He wanted her to remember this for a long time.
Maybe forever.
Although in his world, there was no such thing as forever, unless you considered death anything more than the ugliness it was.
And he wasn’t a religious man, his Catholic upbringing limited to holidays and funerals.
There certainly wasn’t any room for love or kindness, not where he’d come from, the upbringing he’d been born into.
There were some who said he and his brothers were dark princes, being groomed to take over the world, but he knew their brutal life was a dress rehearsal for spending eternity in hell.
“Oh. Oh...” Her bedraggled whimpers drew him back into cold reality. He had a woman strapped to a cross, punishing her in a manner that suggested this was the first of many.
If only he could take the chance.
When he was finished, he concentrated on her ragged breathing as he controlled his own. Nothing seemed crystal clear any longer, especially his future. He was unable to resist her, walking closer and inhaling her sweet scent. He could become drunk off the fragrance of her nectar. “You did very well.”
She strained against her bindings, her fists clenching then opening several times. Her eyes followed him as he eased strands of damp hair from her face. “Thank you, sir.”
He chuckled darkly and slid the tawse straps down her back, tapping ever so lightly. “You look beautiful shackled.”
“More beautiful than your other women?”
“I already told you that I don’t bring women here.”
“And I don’t believe you. Sir.”
Exhaling, he wiggled the leather between her legs, slapping her pussy lightly. “Should I take that as continued defiance?”
“Perhaps, sir.”
He did love her spitfire personality, another attribute that kept him rock hard. His need to dominate her was nothing less than primal, an urge that would not be denied for much longer. He replaced the strap with the cane, flicking the slender piece of wood in the air and her eyes never left his actions.
“Is your mouth watering, sweet Ashley?”
“Perhaps.”
He didn’t waste any additional time, snapping the cane across her reddened bottom. The stripe was light, no doubt fading by the end of the night, but right now the symbol only fueled his hunger. “Fourteen more.”
She bit back several cries as he caned her, moving from side to side before cracking the cane. He adored the whooshing sound, subtle yet powerful. The way her body reacted, tensing then relaxing every time he issued a harsh strike left him breathless. Why this particular round of discipline left him in awe was something he would question more than once.
When he was finished, every part of his body was on fire, jazzed to the point he’d never felt so invigorated. And dear God, he wanted her more than ever.
“Alive. So damn alive.”
He left her bound, enjoying the lovely view, taking several steps backward. Her clothes came into view, including the clutch that she’d been keeping protected all night long.
Wrath might care for the woman more than he should, but he was no fool. She was hiding more than stories from her past. The bag was heavy, far too much so to simply be holding a lipstick and perhaps a compact. A snarl formed on his lips as he unzipped and peered inside.
Well, well, it seemed the Americans had already gotten a jump on attempting to protect the influential businessman. How clever of them to send a beautiful woman and one who not only could handle herself at a Blackjack table but win with little effort. The setup had been almost perfect.
Almost.
They were mortal enemies. This was both delicious and gut-wrenching. There was after all, a half million dollars on the line.
Now...
What in the hell was he going to do with her?
Chapter Five
She felt his tension. Something had changed. They’d grown close enough she could almost smell the hint of anger erupting from every pore in his body even though she couldn’t hear anything. The only sounds were the hard thumping of the disco music vibrating on the floor and walls. A sudden rush of terror flowed into every cell, as well as her mind. She could be left here in this condition for hours.
Then again, he could do much worse.
Not only had she allowed her guard to fall, but she’d left her service weapon unattended. This was Federal Agent 101 shit and she’d failed miserably. Why? Because she’d fallen for some French-speaking Italian dude who happened to look fabulous in a suit and could wield a leather strap like nobody else?
“Pierre? Please tell me you didn’t leave.” Sophia wiggled. The clanking sounds of the metal portion of her binding made her cringe all over again. There was no possible chance she was getting out of this by herself.
The sound of silence created a moment of near hyperventilation. Straining, she couldn’t see anything but the blessed cabinet housing methods of raw and ugly discipline. She bit back a cry, the odd dichotomy of the enjoyment she’d just experienced, along with the anguish of riveting fear was almost too much for her system.
“I’m here, love. I would never leave you unattended.” His velveteen voice seemed more seductive than before, the slight baritone chuckle sending a river of desire into every muscle.
Maybe she was overreacting.
“Was I a good enough girl?” She had to keep the conversation going. She also needed to look him directly in the eyes. If he was lying about everything, which her mind was shifting further in that direction, she could tell in his eyes.
“For?”
She felt his presence behind her, his hot breath skipping down the length of her spine.
“The chair.” Sophia twisted her head, peering at the odd-looking contraption. None of her vibrators looks like the bulbous crescent sitting a solid two inches about the hole in the chair.
“Let me think.” Pierre laughed, the tone lighthearted as he walked closer, fiddling with the straps on her ankles.
She could see no sign that he’d tampered with her clothes or purse, but a consummate professional would make certain no one could ever tell.
He almost ripped at her bindings, moving quickly to release her. When she was freed, he eased her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling into her neck. His whispered words sent a chill throughout her body. “The art of being good means many things, my lovely Ashley. I have the distinct feeling you were born to be bad.”
Before she had the opportunity to ask what he meant, he’d swept her into the chair, positioning the thick vibrator in the middle of her pussy. The thick plastic was uncomfortable as hell at first and she sat up straight, trying her best not to rest on the device. Her legs remained tense and she strained as he crouched on the floor. The tawse was very close, within reach. The man was going to drive her insane with agony then ecstasy.
He hummed as he yanked the leather straps around first one wrist then the other, his eyes twinkling. “What are you thinking?”
“That you have full control.” The pain in her backside was biting, the spanking much harsher than she would have imagined. The damn vinyl in the seat was biting into her skin, a direct reminder that she’d been punished like a very bad little girl.
Hell, yeah, she’d take that badge, almost like a dunce’s hat. When she got out of this predicament—no, if she did—there would never be a single person on a case that she’d trust again for any reason.
Not for sex.
Not for punishment.
Not for...
Sighing, the electrifying touch from his fingers was almost too much, sending shockwaves into her tense muscles.
Pierre slid his hand down her calf, wrapping his fingers around her ankle. “You struggle with the woman inside, the one you’d prefer to be. All your training keeps you from letting go. What a shame we won’t have enough time to satisfy all your needs.”
“And why is that?”
Smiling, he tightened one strap then the other before reaching for the set of controls and moving to a standing position. “This should be very worthwhile.”
“I’m not certain that I...” Her words trailed off the second he switched on the apparatus, the gleam in his eyes something she’d never forget. He was enjoying the hell out of himself.
He also wasn’t going to answer her questions. Damn him. Damn the position she’d placed herself in. She could end up at the bottom of the ocean, feasted on by sharks and not a single person would notice for a solid two days. By then, it would be too late.
“Is something wrong, Ashley? You look flushed.” He moved the knob, studying her intently.
The flash of pleasure was enigmatic, forcing her toes to curl. There wasn’t a portion of her body that wasn’t quivering from the intense vibrations, her breath ripped away. She gasped, dropping her head as the vibrations rushed into her pussy. There was no way she could stop her muscles from clenching, clamping down on a nonexistent cock.
“Oh. Fuck. Fuck!”
Growling, he inched closer. “You’re beautiful when you’re hungry to come but only do so when I allow you to. If you disobey me, you’ll be punished all over again.”
“You’re... terrible,” she managed through clenched teeth.
His response was flicking the knob further, his grin becoming evil, highlighting the sexy as fuck dimple in the middle of his chin. Right now, she wanted to wipe it off his face.
Moaning, she closed her eyes in an effort to try to stop an orgasm that was right around the bend. The sensations were strong enough to bring tears to her eyes. She’d never experienced such extreme pleasure, the kind that bordered the most heinous pain, near agony.
“Fuck. Fuck!” Every part of her was wet.
Her pussy.
Her neck.
Her breasts.
She was unable to think clearly as he stood in front of her, shaking his head.
“What I would give to have weeks with you, locking you away to do exactly what I commanded you to do. Imagine the rounds of pleasure, the turmoil of pain you’d experience. The weeks could change your life.” Pierre allowed her to see the control mechanism. “I only have this on medium. Imagine what high will do.”
“I... And what would...” She couldn’t put a single coherent sentence together no matter how hard she tried.
“Yes, I would keep you shackled, even caged while I was away, only to be set free by my command. How would you handle that, sweet Ashley? Would you thrive or go mad?”
“Pierre, I...” She licked her dry lips, watching with fascination as he twisted the knob again. The instant jolt of electricity was brutal yet beautiful, creating the kind of dazzling sensations that she’d never be able to describe.
He knelt down in front of her, dragg
ing the tawse across her breasts. “Imagine the types of punishment I would inflict, the rush of ecstasy allowed. But only when you were a good girl. I’m no longer certain that you know what that means.”
She took several deep breaths before biting down on her bottom lip to keep from crying. There was no way she could hold back much longer. She could tell he was toying with her, teasing her on several levels but there was an absolute darkness swimming in his eyes. Even with his banter, he was grilling her. “Pierre!”
“Is there something you need to confess? Do you need to tell me truly naughty things you’ve done in your life?” Leaning over, he kissed her on the cheek then slid his open mouth to hers, darting his tongue around her lips. “Confession is good for the soul. You don’t even have to be Catholic.”
When he turned the intensity all the way up, she lost it, her body shaking violently as the climax came in wave after wave. “Oh, God! Yes. Yes!” Her scream was high pitched, floating in the room.
Pierre hovered in front of her, lifting her chin with two fingers. “As I said, you’re a very bad girl. The kind of training you’d need would be all encompassing, taking hours of my time. I’m not even certain you could handle that.”
“Fuck... You...” Sophia was unable to stop the harsh words from escaping as the orgasm ripped away at her sanity, the vibrations never stopping. They drilled into her very core, yanking her into darkness.
“I think you have that wrong, sweetheart. It’s the other way around.” He crushed his mouth over hers, thrusting his tongue inside.
She tasted remnants of wine and bourbon, the intensity filling her mouth. Everything was more extreme, heightened in a way that left her exhausted and weak. Their tongues swirled together in a forceful manner, both vying to take the lead.
When he broke the kiss, he smacked the strap against her breasts, hard enough she yelped. “Hours and hours I’d take until I broke you, molded you. Then you’d truly belong to me.”
“I could... never belong to you.”
“We shall see about that.”
Why did she have the feeling that he was telling the truth?
