by Marie Force
I hear the sound of a cap opening, like one that might be found on a bottle, and then I feel the cold smear of lubricant being applied to my bottom. Oh my God. Am I really going to allow him to do this to me again? My safe word is on the very tip of my tongue, ready to burst free if or when this gets to be too much for me. And as two of his fingers breach my most private place, it’s all I can do to refrain from saying it. I shouldn’t like this as much as I do. I should stop him. I should—
His fingers are removed and immediately replaced with something much bigger, which forces its way past the tight ring of muscle, stretching me to the point of pain before the pain morphs into unlikely pleasure as the plug moves into place. “I wish you could see how sexy you look with your sweet arse plugged for me.” He runs his hands over my bottom, fanning the wildfire.
That’s when I become aware of the fact that my inner thighs are wet from the power of my arousal. That has certainly never happened before.
We’re interrupted, jarringly, by an announcement from the pilot warning of some turbulent air ahead. Normally, the turbulence warning would frighten me, but I have much greater things to be afraid of at the moment. Such as the hand that Jasper brings down on my ass. It echoes through the room in a loud, resounding crack that hurts more than I expect it to.
Then he soothes the ache by rubbing the spot until pain turns to pleasure.
I’m aware of the plane bouncing somewhat violently as Jasper’s hand continues to rain down on my ass, moving from side to side, from the place where my cheek meets my leg to the fleshier middle. By the time he finishes, I’m a drooling, sobbing mess of need and want and excruciating desire that is stoked to nearly unbearable levels when he shoves his hard cock into me without warning. Thanks to the plug, the fit is so incredibly tight that his first deep thrust triggers a second epic orgasm.
I’ve probably earned another punishment, but I can’t find the wherewithal to care as he pounds into me, harder and deeper than he ever has before. With each hard thrust, his body strokes against my ass, which is still hot and sensitive from the spanking. The combination is overwhelming.
“Don’t come until I say you can,” he says, going deep again. “Don’t you dare come.”
Holding back is going to kill me. I have no doubt about that as I clench my teeth so hard, I worry my jaw will break under the pressure of trying to hold off the inevitable. He reaches under me to fill his hands with my breasts as he pushes my legs farther apart. The move sends him even deeper into me and triggers the orgasm that can’t be stopped no matter how hard I try.
I come harder the third time than the other two combined, and he’s right there with me, surging into me again and again until we collapse into a heaving pile of flesh on the bed. Though I’m still floating, I have the presence of mind to hope once again that we’ve made a baby.
“Such a naughty, disobedient sub,” he whispers after long minutes of silence, other than the heavy breathing that follows exertion.
“It’s not my fault.”
He runs his fingers through my hair, providing soft, easy comfort in the wake of tumultuous emotion. “Whose fault is it?”
“Yours! You knew exactly what would happen when you did all that.”
The low rumble of his laughter makes me smile. I love to hear him laugh.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t. You’ve turned me into a brazen hussy sex fiend.”
“And this is a bad thing, darling?”
He sounds so very British and so very, very sexy. “Well, I’m still not sure how I feel about being plugged, but the rest wasn’t so bad.”
“By the rest you mean the three screaming orgasms?”
I elbow him and receive a grunt of laughter in response.
“Speaking of your third screaming orgasm, that happened without permission, so that has earned you another punishment.”
I groan dramatically. “My poor tortured bum can’t take anymore.”
Rubbing his hand over my ass, he chuckles. “No more spanking, but I do think we’ll keep the plug in place until we get to the hotel.”
“How long will that be?” My voice rises in protest.
“Only a few more hours.”
“Hours? I’ll never survive that.”
“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
He withdraws from me slowly, which is far more arousing than you might think, given that he’s still half-hard and I’m compressed by the plug. Next he removes the cuffs and rubs my wrists until the tingling stops. The removal of the blindfold has me blinking furiously to bring him into focus in the soft glow of the bedside light.
“There you are,” he says, cupping my cheek and leaning in to kiss me. He has a bottle of water ready, and I take greedy sips of the cold liquid.
“Why do I get so thirsty?”
“Probably because you’re breathing differently and exerting yourself the way you would during a workout.”
“Sex with you is definitely a workout.”
He studies me with those golden-brown eyes that see me in a way no other man ever has. “Do you like it, darling?”
“You couldn’t tell?”
“I could tell you had good orgasms, but did you like being blindfolded, cuffed, plugged, spanked, dominated?”
“I liked it,” I confess, feeling my face heat with embarrassment and arousal.
He caresses my face. “What did you like best?”
“I have to pick one thing?”
“You can pick more than one.”
“The blindfold made me more aware of everything else that was happening.”
“Losing the use of one sense heightens the others.”
“I lost two senses because I couldn’t touch you either.”
“True. What did you think of the punishment?” As he speaks, his finger makes circles on my breast, round and round without quite touching my nipple. That’s all it takes to start the low hum of desire all over again.
“I won’t say that I liked it, but it wasn’t awful.”
“Not awful. I suppose it could be worse. And the plug?”
“Uncomfortable at first, but not so bad once it was in place—until you took up the rest of the room inside me.” I flatten my hand on his chest and drag it down to encircle his reawakened erection.
His sharp gasp of surprise pleases me inordinately.
“Was it good for you, too?”
His eyes, which had closed while I stroked him, pop open, his gaze locking on mine. “Do you honestly have to ask?”
“I guess I do.”
“Darling… My sweet, sexy Ellie… Nothing has ever been better for me than being completely myself with you.”
“I always want you to be yourself with me.”
“You have no idea what an amazing, incredible gift that is to me. Not every woman would be strong enough to give herself over to me the way you just did.”
“I liked giving myself over to you. I was a little scared at the beginning, but I kept reminding myself that I was with you and that you’d keep me safe.”
“I’ll always keep you safe, my love. You can count on that.”
“I’m starting to believe I can.”
“Believe it. Now that I have you in my arms and in my bed, I’m not going anywhere.”
“I still can’t believe you wanted me and never said so.”
“And how would I have gone about saying so? At work? In the midst of our group of friends?”
“You could’ve called me.”
“Like on the phone? Do people still do that?”
I laugh at his scandalized expression. “I think some people do.”
“You want to know the truth, darling?”
“Always.”
“I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure you’d want me the way I wanted you, and because of who you are to me, who your brother is to me and who your family is to me, I didn’t want to risk making things awkward between us if you d
idn’t feel the same way I do. We spend too much time together to take that risk.”
I drag a finger through his chest hair, loving the soft texture and the moan that escapes from him when I touch his nipple. “I’m sorry you never said anything.”
He draws me in closer, kissing the top of my head. “Trust me, so am I.”
“I’d listen to you in meetings at work or when you tell a funny story when we’re all together somewhere. Afterward, I wouldn’t be able to tell you what you said. I was so dazzled by how you said it. I’d fantasize about being in bed with you while you said filthy things to me in that beautiful voice.”
He slides his leg between mine, the friction of his hairy leg against my skin electrifying. “I wish I’d known you had those thoughts. I could’ve been saying filthy things to you for years now.”
“We might not have been ready before now.”
“Probably not.”
“Are you nervous about seeing your father?”
“I’m more resigned than nervous. It’s way past time that I dealt with this situation once and for all.”
“What do you think he’ll say?”
“He’ll be bloody furious. He’ll rant about me shirking my obligations. The usual tirade. But I’m not backing down.” He tightens his arms around me. “This is what I want. My life in LA is what I want. I’m never going back to London, and it’s time he knew that.”
“I’m so proud of you for standing up for what you want, Jasper.”
“That means so much to me, love. I should’ve done it years ago, but you’ve given me the best reason I’ve ever had, not to mention the courage I’ve lacked.”
“How can you say you’ve lacked courage? You stood up to him at eighteen and fought to attend the school of your choice, to pursue the career of your choice. That took incredible courage—and balls.”
“I guess, but what does it say about me that I’ve let him cast a shadow over my entire life by making it clear that I’m expected to step up when the time comes? I swear his latest daredevil stage is all about making me sweat. Every time he climbs a mountain or goes off on some quest for a record in an experimental aircraft, he knows I’m holding my breath the whole time. I bet he fucking loves that, the sadistic bastard.”
“After this, you never have to see him again if you don’t want to.”
“I definitely don’t want to, and he’s not going to want to see me either.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had such a difficult relationship with your father. It makes me feel extra lucky to have had Max Godfrey as my dad.”
“You’re so lucky. He’s the best dad I know.”
“You’re going to be a wonderful father, too.”
“I hope so. I have no earthly idea how to do it.”
“You know how not to do it. That’s a good place to start.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“Try not to worry too much,” I whisper when I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. “No matter what happens, I’ll be right here to help you through it.”
“That means everything to me, darling.”
We arrive at Heathrow late in the morning local time. A car service whisks us into town, where I’ve booked a room at Claridge’s, located in the exclusive Mayfair neighborhood and a short walk to my father’s office. We worked extra hard on the baby-making project on the flight, and other than a few catnaps, we haven’t slept.
I can tell that Ellie is stimulated by the ride into town as the plug is still in place and every bump on the road draws a gasp of shock from her. I love watching her reactions, and judging from the glow of her cheeks, she’s living in a perpetual state of arousal. I can’t wait to get my business done so I can get back to her and pick up where we left off on the plane. She’s yawning continuously by the time we reach our room. I help her out of her clothes, tuck her into bed and sit next to her, gazing down at her lovely face and drawing energy from the adoring way in which she looks at me.
“Shall we remove the plug now that you’ve taken your punishment like a champ?”
“After you get back.”
“Ahhh, something to look forward to.”
“For you, maybe,” she retorts.
Laughing, I say, “Get some rest, darling. I’ll take you to afternoon tea when I return. You’ll love it.”
She takes hold of my hand. “I love you, and I’m so proud of you for fighting for your freedom. I’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back.”
“I have no words to tell you what that means to me. And PS, I love you, too. I can’t wait to have everything with you.”
She reaches for me, drawing me into a sensual kiss that immediately fires me up. I’m amazed that J.T. has any gas left in his tank after the fuck-fest on the plane, but he is a resilient bugger. I reluctantly withdraw from the kiss. There’s nothing I’d rather do than dive into bed with her and pick up where we left off. But I can’t procrastinate on this errand from hell. My appointment is at noon, and Nathan has given me exactly fifteen minutes with His Grace. I hope it takes less than five minutes to conduct our business.
“I’ll be back soon.” I kiss Ellie one more time and pull the covers over her shoulders. I have to force myself to leave her, to take the lift to the lobby, to walk out of the hotel when everything in me wants to go running back to her and avoid this confrontation nearly twenty years in the making. The thought of seeing my father makes me feel sick in the gut and the heart that he has broken too many times to count. I swear to God that no child of mine will ever feel that way about me. I wouldn’t be able to bear it.
My father’s London office hasn’t changed much in the nearly two decades since I was last here. It’s a huge blue glass spire that juts into the sky like a rocket ship, which was his intent when he designed the monstrosity that was completed the year I was born. He wanted the world to know that Kingsley Enterprises was heading in one direction and one direction only. My father sits atop his kingdom in the building’s penthouse suite that includes a luxury apartment where he spends most of his time these days.
My parents have never had what I would call a traditional marriage. How could they when his primary goal in life is adding to the family fortune and keeping up the family traditions? Where is there room amidst all that ambition for a wife or family? My mum spends most of her time in Cornwall, far from the hustle and bustle of my father’s life in London. She says she’s happy there, but I have my doubts.
My father waxes poetic in the media about his love for her, but I’d be surprised if he spends even two months a year with her. I suspect she’d love to be free to pursue the kind of relationship she reads about in her romance novels, but he’d never let her go. Divorce smacks of failure, a word that isn’t in Henry Kingsley’s vocabulary. Despite the fact that he leaves her alone for long periods of time, if he has a weak spot, it’s her. My sisters and I agree that he has an odd way of showing his love for her.
Their kind of marriage would never work for me. After I take care of things with my father, I’ll ask Ellie to marry me. We’re going to do this the right way, with a big white wedding followed by as many babies as she wants to have, none of them burdened by an inheritance they never signed on for. I’m counting the seconds until I can get back to her and start our life together, free from the encumbrances that have weighted me down from the day I was born.
Nathan, my father’s longtime assistant and majordomo, meets me as I step off the elevator on the thirtieth floor of the Kingsley building. I contacted the man I’ve known all my life to arrange the meeting. If he was surprised to hear from me, he never said so. Nathan is everything to my father that I am not—faithful, devoted, available. I have often joked to my sisters that Nathan is the son my father never had.
With his perfectly groomed dark hair and intense eyes, Nathan is the picture of British elegance in a gray bespoke suit that fits his trim frame like a glove. He shakes my hand. “It’s nice to see you, Jasper. You’re looking well.”
“L
ikewise.” Beyond a starched dress shirt and perfectly pressed pants, I haven’t dressed for this meeting, which I know will irritate my father. However, in light of what I’ve come to say, I expect that my lack of a jacket and tie will be the least of his concerns.
“Things seem to be going well for you in Hollywood,” Nathan says with typical understatement.
“You could say that.” Most people would agree that winning the Oscar, the Golden Globe and the BAFTA in the same year counts for much more than doing “well” in my career. However, the people in my father’s world don’t think like “most people.” I’m at the top of my game, and Nathan knows it. So does my father. I’m as good at my chosen career as he is at his, and that must chap his arse more than any of the many other things I’ve done to enrage him, such as live my own life. “Does he know I’m coming?”
“I told him ten minutes ago.”
I hold back a smile and refrain from acknowledging that Nathan has played this as well as I could’ve hoped by not giving my father enough time to work up a head of steam ahead of my arrival. “I appreciate your assistance.”
“I serve at the pleasure of the Kingsley family, which includes you, my lord.”
Not for much longer. I don’t share that thought with the man who is only trying to do his job—a job I’ve made more difficult than it already is with my presence here today.
As much as I’d like to think I’m as courageous as Ellie believes me to be, my stomach is tight with anxiety and my hands are unusually moist. Because he’s too well-bred not to, my father will shake my hand, and he will view my sweaty palms as a sign of weakness. I rub them on my pants, wishing I were anywhere but standing at the door to Henry Kingsley’s domain.
Nathan gives me a look to ask if I’m ready.
As ready as I’ll ever be, I nod.
He knocks once, and when he opens the door, a thousand memories assail me all at once as I follow him. Years of Saturdays spent imprisoned in this room being force-fed the Kingsley family credo, though it was obvious to anyone who knew me that I couldn’t have possibly cared less about credos or finance or legacies. My father was the only one who couldn’t seem to see that, and he kept up my “lessons” even when it meant schlepping into the city from Berkshire while I boarded at Eton. Recalling those years of pure torture does nothing to elevate my mood.