She focused on the way he was working her, and after a few moments, she found the pattern. “Nine shallow strokes, one deep, Sir.”
“Correct.”
He leaned down to nip at her nipple, and she tightened around him as he licked over the bite. Jack grunted, nearly overcome with the violent need to thrust and take and come. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up forgetting what he wanted to do and fuck her hard enough to make both their legs give out.
Jack drew himself up to his knees.
“I want you to count every thrust. If you don’t miss any, I’ll give you eight shallow ones, two deep.” He drove himself inside and held still. “The next time, you’ll get seven shallow and three deep, and so on. You will not stop counting and you won’t come. If you get to ten, I’ll let you beg for your release. If not—”
He pulled out of her completely and stroked himself.
“Need I say more?”
She shook her head quickly between her locked arms. “No, Sir.”
“Good.” Jack eased the tip of his cock into her and commanded, “Count.”
“One, two, three, four…”
Lilly managed to keep her voice steady at each staccato pulse but struggled through every long slide. Jack didn’t give her a break to compose herself before the next round—six teasing ones before four deep plunges.
“…seven, eight, niiiine, ten! Oh, fuck!”
The look of pleasured anguish on her face was exactly what he wanted to see. He pushed her a little further on the next round, reaching down to rub a fingertip along her clit. Her body bucked, head shaking in protest.
“Please don’t,” she gasped. “I’ll never last if you do that!”
“Did you think I was going to make this easy for you?”
Her eyes slammed shut when he started the pattern again. Three shallow strokes, seven deep, and sweat was pooling behind his knees. Two shallow, eight deep, and her legs started trembling. She was a fucking mess underneath him, moaning in agony as he paused before the final round. He rubbed her clit hard and fast, and she cried out in desperation.
“Fuck, please, please, don’t! God, one, t-two…”
Each number was a test of his control over her, of her obedience to him. Jack gritted his teeth to strengthen his own resolve, his labored breathing belying the shaky tether he held on his own restraint.
“Ten!” she finally shouted.
“Good girl.” He picked up his pace, slamming into her. “Now, beg me.”
“Please, let me come, Sir.”
“Louder.”
“Please, let me come, Sir!”
Jack’s orgasm began to crest. “Come for me now. Come all over my cock.”
His thumb swirled and pressed, faster and slicker and right there, and then Lilly shattered beneath him, thrashing wildly as she screamed, “Yes! God, Jack! Oh, G—”
They both froze at the sound of his name.
Lilly pinched her eyes closed in fear as she rode out the last remaining pulses of her release. Jack’s own need to orgasm dissipated, and there was a sick taste in his mouth when he withdrew, knowing what came next.
Punishment.
Chapter Thirty
Lilly turned her face into her arm and pinched her eyes shut. Jack heaved a heavy sigh. It was an accident, a slip said in passion, but he couldn’t let it slide. Not after what they’d discussed.
He released her from her bindings and climbed off the bed.
“Get dressed.”
He didn’t wait to see if she’d obeyed as he went to retrieve his clothes. The sheets rustled with her movements, so he dressed in silence, robotically fastening each button and zipper. When he was finished, he flipped the light on and turned around. Lilly’s T-shirt and jeans were all askew—one pant leg caught by a sock, shirt hem riding up her waistline, the result of hasty dressing with shaking hands. She stood by the bed with her fingers woven together in front of her, careful glances darted his way from beneath the tangled waves of her hair.
“Do you need the bathroom?”
She blinked several times, clearly disoriented by the question. “I guess.”
“Use it.”
Once she’d padded quietly out of the room and closed the bathroom door behind her, Jack concentrated on his breathing, willing his anger to dissipate. He had no business trying to control her if he couldn’t control himself.
She returned a few moments later without speaking, her head bowed.
“Look at me.”
Lilly obeyed, then flinched when their eyes met. Jack had an inkling of what she saw; the withering look he was giving her was the same one he’d given to a few of his students. The ones who’d proved to be massive disappointments.
“Do you understand why you need to be punished?”
She swallowed. Shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Yes, Sir.”
“Tell me why.”
“Because I said your name in the playroom, Sir.”
“And didn’t I just tell you not to do that?”
Her gaze dropped to the carpet again. “You did, Sir.”
“I didn’t tell you to look away,” he barked. The startled, sharp lift of her shoulders as her eyes snapped back to his was like an execution. An entire firing squad of Lilly’s embarrassment and shame aimed directly at him.
Fuck, he hated having to do this.
“You remember your safewords?”
“I do, Sir.”
“Good. Go stand in the corner.”
Jack watched as she retreated to the far end of the room and faced the wall.
“You will stand here and think about what you’ve done, focusing on the importance of following my directions. You may safeword if you’re feeling ill or having some kind of emergency.” He retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge and placed it within her reach. “Do you have any questions?”
There was a pause before she asked, “For how long, Sir?”
“For as long as I deem necessary,” he replied harshly.
He could only see the back of her head, but he caught a faint tremble—the tiniest hitch in her breathing.
The urge to hold her and comfort her was a bug he needed to squash.
“Anything else?”
“No, Sir.”
Jack walked out of the room.
Once he was out of her earshot, he scrubbed his palms over his face, then dropped his hands to his sides. What the hell was he supposed to do while she was standing there? Balance his checkbook?
He went upstairs to the kitchen, making sure to listen for any signs of stress coming from the basement as he collected his cell phone and briefcase. Two hours seemed like a sufficient amount of time to keep her like that—with the shape she was in from running, her body could certainly handle it—and that made working in the playroom his only option. He sure as hell wouldn’t be leaving her alone down there, but she didn’t need to know that.
It wasn’t like he was supposed to make this easy for her.
Back downstairs, he stepped quietly through the playroom entrance. Lilly was in the same position she’d been in when he left, her nose to the wall, arms wrapped around her middle. The water didn’t seem to have been touched.
God, did she have any idea how much this sucked for him too?
Settling down into the armchair, Jack set a timer on his phone and spent the next forty-five minutes attempting to catch up on case law. He wasn’t absorbing a thing. Looking at Lilly in the corner, part of him grew suddenly furious. He couldn’t believe this was how they were spending a weekend already cut short by last night’s party.
The rest of him just wanted to be near her.
His aggravated exhale must’ve caught her attention. She tilted her head slightly, an ear turned in his direction. Hoping he’d come to her, he guessed.
Not happening. She still had more time to go.
He left the room again and busied himself with scrolling through work emails as he paced in the hallway, staying within earshot. A hollow space inside him yearned to free her from her sentence, but it needed to be silenced. He was her Dom. Correcting her behavior was part of the deal, and it wasn’t as if he was doing her any serious harm. There’d be no broken skin, no bleeding that would lead to scarring. Her punishment was simply a tedious exercise, no worse than an incredibly boring homework assignment.
Which was why he couldn’t understand the shift in her behavior when he came into the room. Her shoulders were slumped, her forehead pressed against the wall, her whole body leaning against it for support. Jittery breaths were audible from across the room. It killed him to hear, but it was only natural for her to be upset, and submissives sometimes needed to cry out their pain.
At least the water bottle seemed to have been opened. The last thing he needed was for her to get dehydrated and pass out on him.
One more hour. She could handle one more hour.
Back in the chair less than two yards away from her, Jack watched her the entire time, listening as her tense breathing turned into short, sputtering cries. He ground his fist into his palm, counting down the seconds. His arms ached with the need to hold her. She was crying and she needed him, and he couldn’t fix that until her time was up.
What if she hated him when this was over?
The thought had him staring at the timer until the final hour mark was up. When his phone finally buzzed, Jack shut it off and threw it on the bed, crossing to where she was standing in three quick strides.
“It’s over now,” he whispered. “I’m here.”
Her forehead pressed to the wall, Lilly rolled her face to the side. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face streaked with tears. Jack tentatively stroked the backs of his fingers along her cheek.
“You were very brave.”
Instead of being comforted, however, Lilly completely fell apart.
Her face crumpled, and she let out a heaving sob. Jack pulled her close, trying to soothe her, but when a minute passed without her arms leaving her middle to encircle his waist, he knew something was wrong. She was like a dead weight, crying and unresponsive.
“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing her back. “You’re okay.”
She jolted away from him. With her brows pressed down tight over her eyes in a look that said I’m far from okay, she spat out one single word.
“Red.”
She was safing out now? When it was all over?
“Lilly,” he started, moving toward her. She took another step away from him.
“I did as I was told, and I’d like to go to my room now, please,” she said, then quickly added, “Sir.”
Her voice was rigid, her face blank. He didn’t like this, didn’t want to let her out of her sight. He wanted her with him, to be sure she felt better, but he wouldn’t force it. Alone time when they needed it was part of their agreement, and he needed to honor her safeword.
“Of course. Go ahead.”
Feeling like he’d been blindsided by a Mack truck, Jack followed her as she walked silently out of the playroom and up the stairs. Remaining a few feet behind her, he stopped when she gathered Rumbles from where he’d parked himself at the first floor landing and made her way to the third floor.
He listened to her footfalls until the door to her room clicked shut.
Hours later, she still hadn’t come downstairs. Jack went up several times to check on her, tried to gently insist that she eat something, but she declared that she’d brought a protein bar, and wanted to be left alone. Now it was past nightfall and he had no idea what to do. Retreating to his bedroom, Jack yanked off his shirt and drew on flannel bottoms, pausing when he heard her crying.
Why was she this upset? It was all over. He was no longer angry. She should’ve been fine by now.
Jack stared up at the ceiling, searching for clarity. Eve had navigated nights like Patrick’s party so easily, never struggled in public or in the playroom. Sure she’d misbehaved sometimes, but the consequences for her actions had all been part of the fun, and she’d dutifully seen out her sentences, giving him a sly smile afterward, asking if she’d done her penance.
The smile caught Jack’s memory.
Had there ever been a power exchange between them at all?
He looked at her empty nightstand, the truth suddenly so clear: Eve might have worn his collar, but she was always the one holding the reins. The knowing smile she so often wore proved she knew what the game was, even if Jack thought he was the one running it. She’d indulged his fantasies, allowing him to dominate her, but for her it was nothing more than a game.
She’d never been a true submissive.
This wasn’t a game to Lilly though, and she wasn’t his wife. Nothing bound them together except a short-term contract. How could he have expected her to act the way Eve did, to endure the kind of punishment he’d never given his wife?
Lilly wasn’t Eve. Why was he treating her like she was?
He took the stairs two at a time and opened the door to her room without knocking. Lilly was curled up on the bed. Moonlight washed her skin in a blue-white glow, and her eyes were puffy from crying. The pain in her expression cut straight through him. She’d barricaded herself in here all evening when she should’ve been comforted. Didn’t she realize he would’ve kept holding her in the playroom for hours?
Hell, he’d have held her for a month if he could.
Jack went to her side and brushed the now-damp hair off her forehead. “Why are you crying, sweet girl?”
A sniffle. “What you did…it reminded me of Damien.”
“What?” His hand stilled in her hair. “How did I remind you of him?”
She sniffed again, unable to answer. Jack cupped her face, one thumb skimming over wet, clammy skin.
“Tell me.”
She let out a rushed breath.
“By ignoring me last night. Treating me like I was just another guest, if that. Sending me home and not checking on me all night. And then…downstairs…” Her voice broke. A fresh coat of tears spilled down her cheek. “That’s what he used to do to me. Act like I didn’t exist.”
Jack’s stomach roiled. “You never told me that.”
She gave him a half shrug, a sad, slow move that hurt to watch.
“It was part of the deal—not letting anyone in on what we were doing. He told me that good submissives always followed orders, and this was how he needed me to be. He never held my hand in public. We never had an actual date. And if I displeased him, he’d stop speaking to me entirely. The one time I said no in a scene, he didn’t talk to me for a week.”
The realization hit him like he’d run into a concrete wall. She’d had the wool pulled over her eyes. No wonder she hated blindfolds.
He stroked her hair, finally understanding why she’d never taken the bar. It wasn’t simply because she was heartbroken. It was because Damien’s deception had destroyed her confidence, getting tangled up with her hopes of becoming a lawyer. She’d been driven by a need she couldn’t ignore, and that bastard had taken advantage of her innocence, her trust, withdrawing attention just when she needed it most.
And now he’d just gone and done the same thing.
Lilly looked up at him pleadingly, hands coming up to grasp his arm. Her thumb pressed at his scar.
“Please don’t do that to me again. I’d rather be whipped than have you ignore me.”
Jack shook his head, feeling his own eyes get wet. He’d have preferred the bite of the whip against his own skin than see her hurting any longer.
Without another word, he scooped her into his arms. She clung to him, her face pressed into his bare shoulder.
Then he carried her downstairs and into his bed.
Lilly wasn’t sure how long they lay together in Jack’s bed. She drifted in and out of consciousness, exhausted after hours of standing, crying and replaying the past. She felt better now with her head on Jack’s chest, her arms around him and his fingers combing through her hair, but she was almost too tired to sleep, her eyes swollen and lower back aching. She curled closer to him, wanting to drown out everything except the sound of their breathing and the gentle thump of his heartbeat.
“Are you awake?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah. Can’t sleep.”
A deep breath was followed by a sigh.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lilly opened her eyes. A sliver of moonlight stole in from the window, ghosting over the firm lines of his chest.
“About Damien ignoring me?” At his nod, she replied, “I guess I didn’t see it as a BDSM thing. I saw it as a relationship thing. A him thing.”
She should’ve told him about it sooner, but she had seen it as separate, even if the last twenty-four hours had twisted everything together. As the minutes of her punishment ticked by, she’d been flooded with memories of Damien, knowing Jack was purposely ignoring her and having no idea when it was going to end. She needed to prove she could get through it, but by the time it was over, she was so lost in her own head, all she wanted was to get away from him.
Funny, how nothing more than standing and thinking had been what finally made her say “red”.
“It wasn’t a relationship thing, Lilly. It was a power play. Some Dominants do that, shitty ones like Damien. It was another one of his attempts to manipulate you.”
Part of her had known that, but having Jack confirm it made her cringe all the same. It was as if she’d been under some kind of spell, lost and drifting as she waited for Damien to dote on her again. And when he did, it was like sunlight shining on her face after years of solitary confinement.
Mind games. That had been his kink. And she’d played along, hooked on sex so good she would’ve withstood anything to keep getting it.
“There was never any aftercare,” Lilly admitted. “And he hated to cuddle. Most nights after a scene he’d leave me alone in his bed. I was supposed to be gone by the time he was done in the bathroom.” Her mouth went dry at the memory. “I have nightmares about it. Even now.”
His Contract: Legally Bound, Book 1 Page 24