by Jane Henry
He grinned. He might suck at the other dominant stuff, but this part was second nature.
He stepped forward, bracing one leg between hers, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “And when I do, I’m not going to stop. Understand?”
“Tony, please,” she said, her brown eyes wide and unfocused, her hips lifting instinctively, trying to make contact with his.
“Do you understand?” he demanded.
“Yes! Yes, sir! I do!” she cried.
Fuck yes.
Sir.
The thrill of it went through him, an electric jolt that rocketed up his spine and had him pulling her arms higher, holding her wrists even more firmly. One simple word, but it changed everything.
He wouldn’t stop until he’d made her his.
Chapter Five
This wasn’t happening. It was some sort of surreal dream, and someone would pinch her to wake her up, because good things like this did not happen for Tessa Damon. You had to claw, fight, and push your way to the top to get things to happen. It took blood, sweat, and tears.
And Tony was so good. How could someone like Tessa be what Tony wanted? The night of Heidi and Dom’s wedding, the two of them had been alone in the dark, having taken their champagne flutes out to where the small waterfall ran behind the terrace, and he’d been still reeling from his break-up with Val.
“I want a good girl, Tess,” he’d told her. “Not a prima donna. I want a girl I can raise my kids with. Someone wholesome, and pure. A good girl.”
She’d replayed his words over and over again.
She was not a good girl.
But what sort of fool would take what she wanted so badly, and hand it back? And Tony did strange things to her willpower. Her resolve would melt away and she’d be left with her burning need to be near him, to touch him, to feel his hands on her, and she’d shove down any self-doubt that threatened to ruin her euphoria.
If he ever knew who she really was, he wouldn’t be pinning her against the refrigerator right now, his hands on her waist and curves, as his huge, rough hands shoved her sweater up and his fingers grazed the edge of her naked skin above her jeans. If he knew what she’d done, where she came from, and who she was, he would not be with her right now. Not ever. He’d drop her, like every other goddamn guy she’d ever let in. And as his tongue met hers, she let out a half-moan, half-sob that she hoped he mistook for wanton need, not the tortured bundle of doubts that strangled her.
“Tony,” she whispered, pulling her head back and placing her hands on his broad shoulders, lifting up on her tiptoes to anchor herself on him while his hands spanned her waist. She squirmed. God, the feel of those hands. Nothing, nothing could prepare her for what it felt like to be held by him. The mere touch of his hands on her made her skin feel red hot and too tight. Hell, she’d barely been able to manage focusing on the movie they’d watched the night before because his massive hand had spanned her waist. It was comforting. Consoling. And so very sexy. She’d sat next to him panting, squirming, hoping there was no way he had some sort of superpower that enabled him to detect her damp panties and labored breathing that being in near proximity to him brought out in her.
She was ashamed of how easily he turned her on. Whereas other girls might welcome the arousal, she felt as if her body betrayed her, and it was a harsh reminder of how many men she’d lain on her back to please.
“You’d spread your legs for anything that walked,” her mother had growled at her one night, in a drunken rage, after catching Tessa with her boyfriend on the living room couch.
Tony was too good.
Too good.
“We can’t… I can’t… Tony,” she said, pleading, her hands on his shoulders. She stared at the way his shoulders spanned her hands, strong, and indomitable. Being overpowered by him like this made her feel small and in need of protection, and he seemed so very happy to provide that.
He leaned in and kissed her cheek, a soft, gentle touch that made tears well in her eyes and her throat catch.
“Tony…” she whispered again. How could she say it? How could she tell him what she needed to?
“What is it, Tess?” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t care that we work with each other. I wouldn’t have asked you to move in here if I didn’t want you to. And we can make this work, Tessa. If it’s too much too soon, I get it, honey.” He sighed into her ear, his hand teasing caressing her breast in a move so tender, it made her desire for him impossibly stronger. He was so good.
“I can’t, Tony,” she said. “If you only knew.” It was now or never. She would spill all, before they reached the point of no return, before it was too late. “You can’t do this with me.” She lifted her chin and inhaled. “I’m not who you think I am.”
He pulled back and frowned, and her eyes watered with unshed tears. His eyes narrowed on hers and he’d never looked so stern. She fairly quaked as he reached for her chin and tilted her eyes to his.
“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” he whispered low.
God, Tess! God! Take everything you’ve ever wanted and just throw it out, why don’t you?
But she had to. For him.
“I’ve… I’m not a good girl, Tony.” Her voice wavered and the tears finally spilled. “You said you want a good girl. I’m not a good girl. I’m not who you want or need.”
He gave her a long, piercing look, and she wanted to turn away, or run, but something in her said stay.
“What do you mean?” he whispered.
Shame heated her face as she whispered back. “I’ve been with many guys, too many. So, so many. The first time I ever had sex was in the back of my high school boyfriend’s pick-up truck. He had a dirty blanket in the back and a cheap condom in his wallet.” She closed her eyes as she continued. “I’ve been tied up and whipped in clubs. I’ve had sex in public, and with more than one person at a time. I was sex slave to a master at the club for a full year before he left me for another submissive. I wasn’t good enough. I’ve never been good enough, and I—”
She felt a finger come to her lips, and she stopped, her eyes opening.
And when he spoke, his voice wasn’t harsh, angry, or, worse, disgusted. It was so soft and gentle, the knot in her chest began to loosen.
“Tessa Damon,” he whispered, his hands reaching for her hips and drawing her close to him. “Do you want to know what I think?”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Please.
Let me go before I make things worse.
Make it better.
He pulled her head to his chest and kissed the top of her head in a move so tender, she closed her eyes against the power of it. He leaned down and whispered in her ear.
“I think you and I have two very different ideas of what good girl means.”
It was the last thing she expected him to say, and the very thing she needed to hear. She lifted her face off his chest and went up on her tiptoes to kiss him.
He kissed her in earnest now, his lips moving in time to hers, as his hands went back to her waist and he pulled her forward with him. Moving across the room, he hoisted her onto the counter with one quick move. She wrapped her legs around him as he yanked her shirt over her head, revealing full breasts in a scarlet, lace-edged bra. He moaned, dropping his gaze to her breasts, he removed her bra. Seconds later, his mouth dropped, and he was teasing her nipples with his tongue. Her head fell back and her legs clenched tighter around him. He lazily pressed a thumb between her legs, circling and teasing until she felt as if she’d climax right there on the counter of the kitchen.
“Come with me, baby,” he whispered, wrapping her legs around him and walking to the couch carrying her. He laid her down as he knelt above her, his hands going to the edge of his t-shirt and lifting. She’d only caught a glimpse of him bare-chested when he came out of the shower, but now she unabashedly stared. God, his chest. He wasn’t chiseled and buff, but naturally defined, massive across the shoulders, so strong.
> “Take off your jeans,” he said. “Jesus, babe, are those painted on?”
She giggled. She did so love these jeans. Unzipping her jeans, she shimmied them off gratefully as he unfastened his buckle.
Tessa swallowed, momentarily transfixed on his belt as he removed it, first unfastening the buckle, then pulling it through the loops of his jeans. He doubled it over in his hands and tossed it to the floor. She watched every move.
His eyes met hers and he grinned.
“You seem to be attracted to my belt, Miss Damon,” he teased. She swallowed. Aw, the hell with it.
“Yes, sir.” He chuckled, but when his eyes dipped to her barely-clothed body beneath him, he stared. Her scars.
Fuck, her scars. She closed her eyes, but his voice made her flutter them open again.
“Look at me,” he ordered. She obeyed. He dropped down, his large, warm body pressed up against her, his erection against her belly as his mouth dipped down. “Open your legs,” he ordered and she obeyed.
“Good girl,” he whispered. “Such a good girl.” He kissed her belly, then down to her thighs, and he kissed each leg in turn, first her left leg, scars and all, then her right. “You like doing what you’re told, baby?” he asked.
She nodded. “I do,” she whispered.
He nodded, one hand reaching to her satin panties and dipping a finger in between her legs, the only thing keeping him from her sensitive folds the small strip of satin between her legs.
“Let’s see,” he whispered. “What would you like to see me do to you, Tessa?”
He reached one finger below the edge of her panties and stroked a finger lazily.
“That’s nice,” she whispered. He chuckled.
“You want me to touch you?” he said, lifting his finger up and she arched her hips closer to him, groaning in protest. “That’s it? Just touch you? That’s all you want?” He reached a hand out to her elbow and touched her. “Done. I touched you.”
She groaned.
“You don’t want me to do anything else?”
Tessa nodded.
“Tell me.”
She lifted her arm up over her head, drunk on arousal and the relief he brought her, and her words came all out in a rush. “I want you to lick me, and fuck me, and tie me up, and spank me, and push me to my knees and make me suck you off,” she whispered.
He chuckled darkly. “All at once?” he said.
“Whenever, however, whatever,” she moaned. God, her need for him was mounting with every second.
“I’ve never spanked a girl,” he said, lazily stroking along the edge of her panties. Just hearing Tony say spank made her panties dampen. She shoved her legs together. He sobered. “Does it turn you on, Tessa?”
She nodded, licking her lips. “So much,” she whispered. “Oh, God, the thought of being stretched across your lap,” she said. She needed a spanking so bad, and there was no one in the world she’d rather surrender to than Tony. “The total feeling of letting go… knowing you’re strong enough to do that, it feels…” and then she remembered who she was talking to, and had all those things that were going through her brain really just come out of her mouth?
“But it’s okay,” she quickly amended. “I know it’s not your thing. We could try other things…”
Her voice trailed off, as he pulled away from her and sat on the sofa next to her feet.
“Come here,” he ordered.
Oh my God. Oh my God!
She sat up, hardly able to breathe for the pounding of her heart, her hands clammy and moist as she sat up.
“Over my lap?” he asked. Oh God, he was gonna do it. He really was. She was more nervous and more turned on than the times she’d been spanked by masters at The Club, and some of those guys knew how to spank. This was different, because… well, this was Tony.
He gave her a stern look. “I’ve never done this before, but I’m pretty sure if I tell you to come over here, you’re supposed to do what I say. Right?” She blinked.
Whoa. Yes, sir.
Licking her lips, she nodded while she scooted over to him. He smiled, holding her hand, and her belly melted. He furrowed his brow.
“Am I supposed to smack you hard enough to make you cry?”
Oh, he was adorable.
She shrugged. “Well… yes and no,” she said. “But not always. I don’t usually cry, especially for a sexy spanking. If I were in trouble…”
His jaw tightened. “I’m not punishing you, Tessa,” he said, and she nodded, but it didn’t disappoint her the way she thought it would. Though she wanted him to be stern and demanding with her, and she fantasized about naughty girl spankings, the fact that he was doing this his own way was a turn-on somehow.
“Of course not,” she said. “I get that. It’s just…”
But the words died on her lips as he sobered. He was patting his lap.
“Look, just because I’ve never done this doesn’t mean I won’t,” he said. “We’re not talking about me making you obey me. We’re talking about spanking you because it turns you on, and you want me to give it a shot. Yeah?”
She nodded, her throat dry. She tried to speak, but the words became all jumbled. “I… you… we…”
“Then stop talking and show me how this is done,” he ordered. “I know some guys use things to spank with, but I figure if these hands are big enough to pound out bread dough, they’re big enough to spank your ass.” He patted his lap again. “Now what are you waiting for?”
Her heart hammered in her chest. Now was the time. This was her chance. And she was not going to fuck this up. Tentatively, she laid herself over his lap, her belly on the warm breadth of his legs, his thighs hard beneath her bare skin. Her hands shook as she placed them on the floor, and when his large hand rested gently on her panty-clad bottom, her thighs constricted, his touch sending waves of arousal between her legs. One stroke of his finger, one lick of his tongue, was all it would take.
“Tell me what you need,” he said, his voice so gentle, it seemed almost ironic he was talking about spanking her. His gentleness made the tears threaten to fall again, her throat clogged with them. She’d been bossed around and tied up, ordered into submission and whipped, but never had any of the men she was with asked her not only what she wanted, but what she needed.
“A real spanking,” she whispered. “One that hurts. I want to feel your strength.”
One of his hands wrapped around her waist, and her hand instinctively flew back. He grasped it, holding her hand, a gesture that was at once intimate and assuring, pressing her hand, engulfed in his large one, into the small of her back as the first smack of his hand fell. Her panties were thin and his hand large; the sting from the single swat hurt more than she’d expected.
“Ow,” she said in a little voice.
“Too hard?” he asked, squeezing her hand in the small of her back.
“Noooo, no no no, please, Tony,” she said. “Not too hard. That’s perfect.”
Another sound smack jolted her, and now he was spanking her in earnest, his palm rising and descending, and the heat of each spank warmed her skin, beginning with a jolt of pain that quickly spread to warmth, and her clit zinged with each stroke. To her immense pleasure, she felt his erection, hard as a rock beneath her belly.
He paused, and she almost cried. She wanted more, needed more, but it was okay if he was done now because moving onto other things would be—
But no.
He’d only paused to lower her panties.
“Bare skin,” he said. “I want to feel your bare skin.”
She squeezed his hand, as he continued to speak, his voice low and soothing. “You tell me if this is too much, honey.”
Too much? Oh, God, she could stay here forever.
“Not too much,” she whispered. “I’ll take what you give me.”
Another squeeze of his hand in hers, and his right hand rose, descending with a sharp crack that echoed through the apartment. She moaned out loud, squirming agai
nst his lap. He spanked her again, and she involuntarily jolted, but he did not stop. He gave her another sound swat, and another. Her skin was aflame. She was so turned on she could do nothing but squirm and moan, which only encouraged him further.
After several rounds of good, hard swats, he spoke. “That’s enough for now,” he said low, one hand resting on her fiery hot bottom, the other still holding her hand against the small of her back as he gently caressed her. She stood, pulling her panties up, and crawled into his lap as she’d longed to do. She sat on his thighs as his arms encircled her. She leaned in and kissed him, one hand trailing along the rough edge of his stubbled chin, the other placed on his bare chest. He returned the kiss, and when he pulled back, his voice was rough and husky.
“Get to my bed. Now.”
She stood and trotted to his room, feeling him in hot pursuit behind her, and another stinging swat landed on her bottom which had her squealing.
“Get those off,” he growled, one large finger pointing accusingly at the panties that shielded her otherwise naked body from his gaze. She obeyed as quickly as her fingers would allow, nimbly stripping and looking to him for guidance. Did he want her on her back? Knees? But her questions evaporated as he reached the bed, guiding her gently but firmly against the pillows, nestling her head back and kissing her as he lowered himself between her legs. He paused for one quick moment to remove his boxers and then he was back, holding her wrists firmly in one hand while the other reached into his nightstand drawer and removed a condom.
"Hurry!" she begged.
His answer was a growl. He tore the foil open with his teeth, then leaned back and covered himself.
A moment later he was sliding between her legs.
He felt so right. She’d been with so many men she’d lost count, men who knew how to fuck and those who didn’t, men who played her body like an instrument and those who hadn’t, but never had she been with a man who was strong yet gentle, and the experience of making love to Tony made her feel different. He wasn’t just in it for the sex. He didn’t just want her ample breasts and pussy. He cared about her, Tessa, had seen her scars and kissed them, spanked her because she wanted him to, and even now, as he laid her down, he made sure her head was atop a pillow and the weight of him over her was tempered.