“Joseph... Sir,” she groaned, jerking at her wrists that he had bound together with the conveniently provided cuffs at the center of the headboard. Her fingers itched to touch him, to sink her fingers into his hair and at last feel its texture. But he was in charge and she wanted that too, to be under his command, obeying his dictates and pleasing him in whatever explicitly naughty and decadent manner he demanded.
“You taste every bit as sweet as I imagined you would,” he murmured roughly against her skin.
Then his lips were gone and he rose to his knees above her. He jerked off his tie and practically tore off his shirt. Standing beside the bed briefly, he stripped off the rest of his clothes. He was long and lean, and though he didn’t scream it with bulging thick muscles, he was strong, deceptively so and handled her with ease. Before she got a good look at what she had fantasized about for three long years, he flipped her onto her belly. His confident fingers found the zipper in the back of her dress and tugged it down. When the material parted, her skin was treated to the long lick of his searing hot tongue as it slid down her spine.
She expected him to peel the silk from her hips and down her legs, but he raised the hem until it rested high on her waist. The next moment her panties were peeled down her bottom until they came to rest at the top of her thighs. Pulling her up on her knees, he palmed her full cheeks, separating them. “Exquisite,” he groaned, the single word a rush of hot breath on her damp flesh. It was nothing compared to the sear of his tongue when he parted the halves and buried his face between them.
Olivia’s cries rent the air as he found her clit, circling it at length before licking higher and plunging into her dripping channel. Continuing to move inexorably upward, taking his time until he reached her small rear opening and gave it a wet glide with his talented tongue.
“You have an ass made for spanking, with your satiny smooth skin and creamy complexion. I bet it looks lovely with a blush of pink. Have you ever been spanked, Olivia?”
She answered between panted breaths. “Yes, Sir.”
“With more than a hand?” he asked as he began kneading her flesh slowly.
She moaned, her head bobbing up and down in answer.
“What about a paddle, a flogger, or a cane?”
“Yes to all except the cane, Sir.”
“Mm,” he hummed, as he gave her another long lick, the vibration making her back arch as she canted her hips and parted her thighs seeking more. “An underutilized and unappreciated implement to be sure. I’d like to see this ass colored with a few stripes.”
The thought of the cane snapping sharply against her bottom, leaving marks placed there by Joseph’s will and design, a tangible sign of his possession sent a rush of liquid heat between her thighs. Near mad with desire, she rocked back against his wickedly arousing mouth.
He chuckled softly, the sensation sending a shiver up her spine.
“Please, Sir.”
“That is my aim.”
His words coincided with the swat of his hand against the swell of her right cheek. It had been an eternity since she’d been spanked, for it to be happening again, at last, and made so by Joseph’s firm hand caused the muscles low in her belly to clench and her clit to pulse with need. A few more and she’d lose control.
A smack fell on her left cheek. She tossed her head back, flipping her hair out of her face, gasping for air as she tried not to come.
Three more, slightly harder, struck in quick succession on one side, followed by a trio of identical swats on the other.
“Joseph, Sir, I can’t wait.”
“You’re ready to come already, pet?”
Two upward strokes landed full on the bottommost curve of her cheek, the heel of his hand falling dangerously near her pussy lips. The rippling energy shot straight through to her clit.
“Yes, I can’t—” she gasped and swallowed as another upward stroke fell, “hold it back.”
A duo of identical upstrokes fell on the other side as he urged, “Don’t. I want to see you come apart as I spank your exquisite ass.” He laid into her then, not overly hard, but fast and low enough to catch her sit spots and upper thighs allowing the repeated blows to reverberate through her pussy and the inflamed, hair-trigger nerves inside. He followed that with one smack dead center on her wet lips.
She shuddered violently as her orgasm ripped through her. It went on and on as waves of bliss radiated outward, coursing up her belly to her painfully taut nipples and down her thighs to her toes, all of it emanating from the hand now focusing directly over her clit as he repeatedly smacked her wet, swollen and highly sensitized skin. Eventually, it was too much and she twisted, trying to get away, but his arm snaked around her waist holding her still. The relentless hand stopped though, replaced by gentle fingers gliding over and through her lips.
It wasn’t long until her need started to build again.
“Perfect,” he murmured as he moved into place behind her. She heard a wrapper crinkle an instant before he was driving into her deep, igniting her passion to a fever pitch once again. His fingers curved around her hips as he held her still for his possession. Pumping furiously, the sound of their skin smacking together echoed loudly throughout the bedroom. It was glorious.
Her second climax was followed quickly by the harsh cries of his first. The masculine sound of satisfaction washed over her, filling her with warmth that she could bring him such pleasure. His cock held its place for several bliss-filled seconds, sliding out a fraction only to return, gliding back up to the hilt, filling her once more. Damp with sweat, her hair clinging to her face, she listened to his rapid breathing behind her. Smiling in contentment, she reveled in the feel of him, still rigid inside her. Never had she come so hard or felt so utterly dominated before. At that moment, her infatuation and unrequited longing morphed into love. Heck, who was she kidding? It had been love for a very long time.
A nagging thought crept into her consciousness, what if he didn’t feel the same?
He pulled out and left the bed briefly. When he returned, Joseph climbed over her, rolling her limp form until she was spooned against him, her back to his chest. Her wrists pulled against her restraints slightly. As his hand rose and checked the tightness, her head tilted to watch.
“Too tight?”
“No, Sir, the slack is gone though. We must have slid down.”
Easily, he scooted her up with one arm, until her elbows bent and her arms rested comfortably on the pillow in front of her.
“Better?”
“Much. Thank you, Sir.”
“Good, because the night is young and I’m not nearly done with you yet.” To prove his point, he lifted her top leg, pulling her knee into her chest. With her splayed wide open, he entered her in one powerful thrust from behind.
*****
A car engine revving outside woke her. She frowned at the gray light coming through the unfamiliar curtains. Either the sun hadn’t risen yet, or the storm hadn’t abated. The man at her back stirred, his arm tightening reflexively around her as the warm hand holding her bare breast did the same. He was a snuggler—never would she have guessed. Replaying the glorious night with Joseph in her mind, she was pleased to have proven her hypothesis right that behind the staid business suit, conservative haircut and round rimmed Harry Potter glasses there was a voracious, passionate lover. That he also had boundless energy and stamina was an unexpected and very pleasant bonus.
She settled against him, shifting slightly beneath the covers. Muscles that hadn’t been used in a very long time, protested their soreness as she did so. Not her bottom, sadly, any residual heat from the spanking last night was already gone. The ache was deeper having settled in her thigh muscles and the ones in her groin, as well as the intimate tissues, which all tingled and ached in reminder of Joseph’s thorough and repeated possession.
She turned her head. He still slept. Without his glasses and with his dark hair tousled from sleep, he looked a decade younger, no more than thirty-fi
ve. At last, during the final time he’d taken her, she’d been free to run her fingers through its thickness, clinging to him as her fingers entwined in the hair at his nape while he’d brought her to climax yet again. After releasing her restraints, Joseph had rolled her to her back and with their limbs entwined had taken her in a very vanilla fashion—missionary; a time honored and always appreciated position—with long, measured strokes while he licked, kissed and suckled her breasts.
As she watched his handsome face in repose, he shifted and a thick swath of hair fell across his forehead. She was tempted to brush it back, but refrained not ready to face him yet.
Morning-after doubts crept in like the approaching dawn. What happened now? He hadn’t mentioned anything beyond last night. In fact, some of his statements seemed time limited. Say yes… and we have a verbal contract for the night. She had accepted in less defined terms, but what if one night was all he ever intended?
She had invaded his territory after all, arriving unexpectedly and shocking him down to his structured and very organized toes. In the entire time she’d worked for him, she’d never seen him with the same woman twice. Granted, this was usually at business functions, not purely social events. Maybe, her wildly whirling mind proposed, that was his style here at Club Decadence as well, taking a different sub every night. He was there on open sub night, maybe he liked new conquests.
The notion that he would suddenly want her as she wanted him—a committed relationship, marriage, babies, the whole nine yards—after all this time, was as fleeting and elusive as a dream.
As she lay there, feeling the weight of what they had done, the impact on her future, her career, her livelihood, pressed heavy like an anvil on her chest. The urge to escape became overwhelming. She eased away, inching her legs toward the side of the bed as she slowly slid out from under his arm. He stirred. Livvy held her breath as she watched anxiously, waiting for those long lashes to part and surprise her with the ever changing color behind them as he awakened, but he rolled to his side, his back to her.
A mixture of disappointment and relief rushed through her. She hesitated only a moment before going into action, easing off the bed in a blink and gathering her clothes. With shoes in hand and still awkwardly zipping her dress up the back, she was out the door, easing it quietly closed behind her. Finding herself in a long, thankfully empty, corridor, she looked frantically around trying to get her bearings. Since Joseph had brought her there while unconscious, she had no idea where she was. With a fifty-fifty shot, she turned left, praying she wouldn’t run into someone. At the same time, she desired nothing more than for Joseph to appear at her side, uttering words of love and commitment as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to their room.
Neither happened as she made it to the stairwell at the end of the hall and quickly descended on soundless bare feet. Two flights down, she pushed open a metal door and stepped out into the nearly abandoned parking lot. When she did, a lone ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, falling upon her like an accusing finger. Two steps into her walk of shame—something she hadn’t done since her reckless early twenties—the door clanged shut with finality behind her.
Chapter Five
Her laptop screen blinked back at her blankly, the stark white document she had pulled up providing the only light in the gray room. Traveling east to Austin at daybreak, she’d driven into more storms, the torrential rains and the gloominess of the day suiting her tears and mood perfectly. It was approaching 8:30 when she called the office, leaving Joseph a voice mail—her second cowardly act of the day—that she wasn’t feeling well and would be taking a personal day. Her agenda, coming up with a resume that covered more than one page when she’d worked at the same place for a decade.
She couldn’t concentrate, however, imagining his reaction when he woke and found her gone. Maybe he’d been relieved that the stilted morning-after dialogue wouldn’t be necessary, or concerned that she’d simply disappeared—they weren’t strangers after all—or possibly angry that she’d robbed him of the opportunity for a morning quickie before giving her the old heave ho?
With a long drawn out groan, she laid her head on the table. How had she messed up her life in one night?
A loud knock—actually, it was three in quick succession—sounded at the door.
Jerking upright, her eyes bored into the wood as though if she tried hard enough she could see who stood on the other side. Even if it were possible, x-ray vision was unnecessary when she knew without a doubt who it was. The raps were repeated, louder.
“Olivia,” Joseph’s stern tone cut through the solid wood door. “Open up.”
She didn’t dare move, or breathe.
“I know you’re home. Your car is in its space.”
On shaky legs, she stood, compelled to do as both her ex-Dom and soon to be ex-boss said.
“Now, Olivia.”
Her stocking feet padded quietly to the door. As she reached for the deadbolt her hand trembled. She fisted it to quell its shaking. Staring at the brass lock, she continued to hesitate.
“Joseph—” she began softly, but his unyielding command interrupted.
“I won’t have a discussion through a door. I also won’t tell you again. Open the door, right now.”
The deadbolt, chain and door lock turned in sequence. As she pulled it open, she looked up at him and her jaw dropped. Never had she seen him in this condition. His hair was mussed as if he’d run his fingers through it, a day’s growth of beard shadowed his chin. He was disheveled, in wrinkled shirtsleeves and no tie, he wore the same clothes he’d worn the day before. It occurred to her that he’d come directly to her from San Antonio.
Like an enraged tiger and she his prey, he stalked her. Livvy backed up a step, as Joseph prowled forward. She kept pace, matching him step-by-step in retreat. His eyes, an angry forest green, blazed down at her, unwavering, even when he shut the door behind him with a decisive slam.
“I have never been callously abandoned in the middle of the night. Not only does it wound my pride, Olivia, it stings. What did you think that was, a one-night stand?”
She had the good grace to flush, heat suffusing her face clear to her ears.
“You did,” he accused, his jaw clenched in outrage. “What’s going on in that head of yours? You know me. Do you really believe I’d treat you in such a manner?”
Still backing up, she came to a sudden halt, unable to go further when the back of her legs bumped up against the arm of her couch.
“Joseph, I—”
“No,” he bit out. “I don’t want to hear your excuses right now. I’m here to finish what we started last night. Do you know why?”
She shook her head, afraid to say a word.
“Because a session with me does not end until I say it does.” He pulled her up by the arms, his long fingers encircling her firmly, but not hurtfully. “Did you say your safeword, Olivia?”
“No, Sir,” she breathed out, barely above a whisper.
His hands went to the belt in her jeans, unbuckled it and in one long pull, zipped it from the loops.
“Do you have a different safeword you failed to disclose?” As he spoke, he spun her to face the couch. Gathering her wrists in one hand, he bound them behind her back, using her own belt as a restraint.
“Orchid, Sir.”
“Your favorite flower, perhaps?”
His long body leaned into hers, his thighs pressing against the back of her own. His hips pinned her in place, holding her still, and the hard length of him pressed against her bound hands.
“It is,” she gasped, “but—”
“I would have remembered hearing that had you said it, but you didn’t, did you?” He pulled up her t-shirt, his hands cupping her breasts from behind, lifting and massaging them slowly.
“No, Sir. I’m—”
“Silence.”
The single word, said in an even but steely tone, sent a sharp jolt of fire, like a streak of lightening straigh
t through to her clit. When his fingers curled into the cups of her bra and pulled them down, she could barely think. And, when his thumbs and index fingers found the taut peaks and rolled them, pinching them deliciously, she could barely breathe.
“You do not have permission to speak, Olivia, except to say one word, your safeword—red or orchid—whichever you choose. I will honor both without fail.”
He paused, clearly giving her time to say one of them now. Left breathless by his forcefulness, her body too aroused by his dominance, Livvy let the seconds tick by without a response. She knew her time was over when his fingers found the button on her jeans. With the zipper undone, he yanked down her pants, panties and all, then he bent her over the high, overstuffed arm of her couch.
Two fingers dipped into her slit from behind, easily locating her sopping wet channel and plunging inside. The only acknowledgment he gave of her blatant arousal was a grunt of satisfaction before his other hand came down on her upraised bottom—hard. This was not the spanking of only a few hours earlier when he’d been pleased with her. No, this was without a doubt punishment. Her head reared back and she sucked in a gulp of air as another blast of fire rained down on her ass. That’s when she saw herself: hair wild about her head, lips parted as she panted fast, shirt shoved up to her shoulders, breasts bare and pushed up wantonly by her lowered bra, her jeans and panties in a twist around her knees. The image reflected back at her in the sliding glass door was the embodiment of a conquered and dominated woman.
Mesmerized, she watched as his hand rose and fell repeatedly, keeping up a steady pace, building an intense burn with each stroke of his broad palm, not only on her skin, but low in her belly and within the achy place between her thighs.
Hooked (Decadence Nights Book 1) Page 4