“After three years, spending forty plus hours per week working alongside one another, attending countless business and social functions together, I thought that we had deeper feelings—respect, trust, esteem, at the very least.” He didn’t allow her time to answer, moving to the tops of her thighs to apply swat after scorching swat. “Since you obviously missed it, let me make it clear. Last night was beyond boss and employee, much more than friends and a damn sight more than a casual fling. Last night took us to an entirely different level. I claimed you, Olivia. Therefore, your response this morning, running from me, was altogether objectionable.”
He grunted again, still whaling away, peppering her ass and thighs with fiery heat. “For leaving without a word, sneaking off like a college co-ed after a drunken mistake, for that bit of rudeness alone, you deserve more than my hand, I think.” He stopped and pressed his lips to her ear. “Don’t you dare move.”
He followed it up with a lick along the delicately curved shell and a quick nip on the lobe. Then he strode away. She heard him rummaging around in the kitchen. Her mind did a hasty inventory of what he might find as a punishment tool—wooden spoons, spatulas in all sizes, a plastic cutting board with a handle—any of them would drive his point home.
She shouldn’t have left without speaking to him. A shiver coursed through her body as she remembered his words. “I claimed you.” How was she supposed to know that? He hadn’t said a word, had he? She was replaying every moment in her brain, when the creak of the floorboards announced his return.
At that moment, it clicked. “I am that Dom, Olivia. No other.” She cringed, calling herself an oblivious fool and worse. “Joseph, please, may I speak?”
“No,” he barked.
She bit her lip. He had never been this stern or angry with her—ever. Of course, she’d never left him naked in bed after a night of unbelievable sex either.
A swishing sound behind her was followed by a line of scorching heat, blazing a trail across her ass from cheek to cheek. She cried out, teetering forward on her precarious perch as much from surprise as from the blistering switch, cane, or whatever the heck it was he’d found in her kitchen to punish her with.
His hand on her lower back steadied her. “You will receive five more strokes. At that point, if my anger is appeased enough to discuss this, we will. If not, you’ll get a half dozen more.”
Another swish preceded a thwap. “Ow, ow, ow!”
“Four more.”
The next came with a hiss as she sucked in helplessly.
“Three.”
Spaced evenly apart, he allowed each blow to flare to a fiery burn, linger for a moment, somehow knowing when the sting had eased a bit, only then did the next one land. He worked with precision, moving from the top down covering her entire ass, no strokes forging the same path. When the count was at two, the next stroke fell across the crease between her cheek and thigh. The sixth and final stroke followed shortly and was applied an inch or so below the last, landing on the fleshy part of her thighs. Those last two hurt worst of all.
“Please, Joseph,” she cried out, tears flowing more so from shame than the burn gracing her ass and thighs. “Forgive me. I acted rashly, inexcusably and you’re right, out of esteem and respect for you, I owed you so much more.”
The implement fell on the cushion in front of her. She recognized it as the plastic wand from her mini-blinds in the kitchen. As she pictured her bottom marked with his stripes, a fire rivaling the one on her ass stirred to life within her core.
He moved behind her, no longer towering over her prostrate form, but crouching, his face level with her well-chastised bottom. Joseph’s hands brushed softly over her inflamed cheeks, his mouth spreading gentle kisses in their wake. When his fingers found her drenched with arousal, his lips grazed her heated skin with a moan. “You’re soaking wet, Olivia. I’ve got to have you, now.”
“Have me, Master, please.” Belatedly, she realized her error. He hadn’t approved her use of Master yet. That was special, usually reserved for a committed couple, but in this instance it seemed so right, coming freely from her lips.
He tilted her backwards until her feet touched the floor. Hurriedly, he stripped her pants and panties down and off. Pushing to his feet, he curled his hand under her knee and cocked it up until it rested high along the back of the couch, spreading her unbelievably wide. Not a second passed before his cock thrust upward, bottoming out with the first penetration. With an arm around her waist, the other slid around her chest grasping the opposite shoulder as he began to pump inside—long, hard, deep—each thrust of his hips slapping her tenderized bottom.
This was possession, pure and simple. Bound, helpless, spread open for the taking, she had no control and she didn’t want any. She wanted Joseph to have total control of her body. Never had she experienced anything like it. Not in years with Vaughn, or with the two Doms she’d been with before him. Only in her fantasies had she been dominated so completely, those dreams starring only one man.
His hands swept over her belly and breasts. One lingered to roll and tug on a nipple, while the other slid up her chest to her throat. When his hand cupped her jaw, angling her face up and back, he demanded more. “Give me your mouth, pet.”
With his tongue thoroughly ensconced above and his cock firmly embedded below, he pumped into her relentlessly, pushing her toward a looming peak. She was about to soar over the summit when he withdrew. Her orgasm seemingly so close became like an elusive mirage just out of reach. Her cries of frustration filled the room.
His next order sounded in a gruff, but determined voice. “Kneel, Olivia.”
On rubbery legs, she turned and with less than her usual grace, knelt before him. Guiding her head back with a hand in her hair, he brought his cock to her lips. Without being told to, she opened her mouth, greedily accepting him as he slid into her, once, twice, and a final time when he came with a growl over her tongue and down her throat. With both hands in her hair, he held her head gently while Livvy lapped and licked him, his body trembling as he came down from his climax. After a few long intimate moments, he pulled away.
“I’m due in Ft. Worth this afternoon, as you know. I’ll be back on Friday at three o’clock. You have until then to think about what you want and make a decision.” He paused to zip his trousers and buckle his belt. The finality of his action gave her a very bad feeling. She suppressed a groan. He was demonstrating his control, both of her and her pleasure. Her body still hummed with arousal, yearning for him.
He squatted in front of her, his big hands sliding up to her cheeks, lifting her face so close to his she could feel his breath. Wanting him so badly her teeth ached, she leaned into his touch.
“You have two choices, Olivia. Forget about last night and go back to the way we were. Working together on friendly terms, but tamping down your desires, living in self-denial because you’re afraid to go for what you want.” Gently stroking a finger down her cheek, he met her shimmering blue eyes. “Or, you can come to me at three o’clock and surrender, to both the pleasure of last night and when needed, the discipline of this morning, fulfilling your long suppressed desires and living your life as you’re meant to, not merely going through the motions, but experiencing it at its fullest, with me. If you choose surrender, you will do so on your knees.” He moved closer, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. “One more thing, no touching. When you come to me, I want you as you are now: cunt bare, gloriously wet and hungry for me.”
He took her lips, his tongue plunging inside and claiming her. After a moment of the most heated kiss of her life, he stood. His hand under her jaw tilted her face up to his.
“Now, little one, on my terms, this session is at an end.”
With his decree given, he left her. It wasn’t until the door thumped shut in his wake that she realized he had released her bound wrists. That’s when she wilted, sagging limply against the side of the couch. Her body still humming from his touch and aching with need. Livvy wished for
the power to call him back and tell him she didn’t need more time. She already knew what she would be doing at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon.
Chapter Six
“Spill.”
“I’m fine. Why thank you, Emma. I appreciate your concern. Yes, I’d like to come in and take off my jacket. A glass of wine would be wonderful, too.”
Color flooded Emma’s cheeks as she glanced at David, who simply grinned while shaking his head. “Sorry,” she uttered softly.
“C’mon in, Liv,” David offered where his overeager wife had not. Moving forward, he helped as she pulled the lightweight jacket from her shoulders.
“It’s wet,” she warned. The rain had continued all day, perpetuating her gloomy mood.
“How about that glass of wine you mentioned? You might need it since Em’s intent on raking you over the coals.”
With a tilt of her head, Livvy eyed her friend who appeared ready to burst at the seams with curiosity. She couldn’t resist teasing. “If I knew I was coming to an interrogation, I’d have brought a rubber hose.”
“All right, you two, I apologized. I can’t help that I’ve been dying to hear about Club Decadence.” Emma grabbed her hand and dragged her over to the couch. “Tell me everything. Don’t leave out the smallest detail. Did they really have gold plated fixtures and marble floors? Were the Decadence Masters as smoking hot as everyone claims? And the dungeon, tell me about that. Did they fuck openly in the dungeon in a free for all BDSM orgy?”
“Emma!” Her husband chastised sharply with a grimace. A Dom himself, he didn’t tolerate crude language from his submissive wife, unless they were playing, when, according to Emma, both of them could get pretty salty.
“Sorry, babe.” She flashed him her dimples, which earned her a warning look.
“Can you behave while I get Livvy a glass of wine?” he asked.
“I’ll try really hard, Sir.”
He grunted. “It will take a miracle, I’m afraid.” To ease the sting of his words, he kissed the top of her head before disappearing into the kitchen.
“Okay,” she immediately whispered. “Now that the big bad Dom is gone, give me the dirt.”
Livvy tried to answer her questions in order. “Let’s see. First, I honestly didn’t notice the fixtures or the floors. Second, yes, every one of the Masters was to-die-for hot, and third, again, I don’t know because I never made it past the bar to the dungeon, but the third floor apartments are very nice.”
Emma’s jaw dropped and she blinked. “What? Wait! Apartments? I never heard anything about apartments.” She paused a moment, her brain clearly struggling to process the information as she added, “And back up a minute. How could you go and not see the dungeon? Did you chicken out?”
“No. I met someone.”
Emma’s shock and bewilderment were instantly swept aside and replaced with a wide grin. “Awesome! Did you finally get laid?”
“Emma Jean, that is enough!” David barked on his way back with three glasses of wine held easily in his big hands.
After murmuring another apology for being crude, she turned wide eyes on Livvy. “Let me rephrase. Did you sleep with him?”
Her already warm face flushed with a near blistering heat, which was an answer in itself.
“Hot damn, you did!” Emma turned to David, ignoring his heavy sigh, and repeated, “She met someone.” Back to Livvy, she demanded, “Tell me all about this someone, Liv. Is he a hunky Green Beret, too?”
“Not quite. I think he’s hunky, but not in a huge, mountainous Green Beret kind of way. He’s built more like Michael Phelps the Olympic swimmer than John Rambo, very smart, and—”
“—good in bed? Did the room even have a bed? Or did you do it on some fancy piece of bondage equipment?”
Livvy opened her mouth to reply, but her eyes shifted to David and she stopped.
“Don’t mind me,” he said, unfazed. “People tell me about their sex lives all the time during therapy.”
As a clinical psychologist, David no doubt heard all manner of outrageous things, sex included. She turned back to Emma and admitted, “Yes, there was a very nice comfortable bed and good doesn’t begin to do it justice.”
Her friend practically vibrated with excitement. “What does do it justice? Great?” Emma held her hands up about eight inches apart. “Fantastic? Magnificent? Humongous?” With each word she moved them farther apart, until she had her hands a ridiculous—and humanly impossible—distance apart.
Both Emma and Livvy burst into laughter as David, playing the put upon husband, grabbed his wife’s hands and pulled them down. “You are both incorrigible.”
“Seriously, Liv, give me the deets.”
“I won’t go into size specifications—”
“Bless you,” David interjected.
“But,” Livvy went on as though he hadn’t interrupted, “the experience was great, magnificent and fantastic, all of that and more. It was also potentially life-altering because there’s a problem. I’ve known him for years.”
Emma gasped. “You’re kidding. Who is it?”
“Joseph Hooks.”
This time Emma’s jaw practically dropped to the floor, and her eyes got as big as moons. For once, Emma was speechless. David, who had taken a seat beside her, reached over and with a finger beneath her chin, closed her mouth for her. That seemed to snap her out of it.
“Joseph is a Dom?”
“Very much so,” Olivia replied. “Who knew?”
Emma shook her head in denial, but David promptly raised his hand. She turned to her husband. “How would you know? You’ve never met him.”
“Darlin’, I’ve listened to Livvy go on about the man for three years. He’s intelligent, self-disciplined, a natural leader, emerging at the top of his field in a very short time. Where so many attorneys turn smug and egocentric, he has clearly risen above that and maintained his self-respect and his regard for others.”
“You got all that from what I’ve said?” Livvy asked in amazement. “Are you a psychologist or an FBI profiler?”
He chuckled. “Often that’s one and the same. Although, it doesn’t take a PhD to know he’s a dominant when I know you are submissive. You wouldn’t be attracted to him otherwise.”
“Why didn’t you ever say something?” Emma demanded. “If she knew her boss was a Dom, it would have saved her a lot of lost time and frustration.”
“I believe love must find its own way, as you know.”
“That means he’s anti-matchmaking, Liv. So even if he’d told me his impression about Joseph, I would have been forbidden to say a word.”
David smiled at his wife’s astute summation, then turned quizzical eyes on Livvy. “So what is the problem you mentioned?”
“Other than going to a BDSM club, outing myself to my boss, and then having sex with him?” Livvy asked as if his IQ had dropped forty points, although in David’s case that would have left it still well above normal.
“Yeah, honey,” he answered, “other than the fact you went to a fetish club specifically to meet someone and when you did that someone happened to be the man you’ve been mooning over for years. On the surface, it sounds like a win-win. So aside from all that, what seems to be the problem?” He said this with an all too recognizable glint in his eye. She knew that look and it usually preceded the offering of a few pearls of wisdom from his unique insight into the human mind.
“This morning,” she began, without much arm twisting, knowing that one or the other of them would wheedle it out of her anyway, “when the heat of the moment had passed, I panicked.”
“And you ran,” David surmised.
She nodded.
“But why?” Emma asked.
“I was riddled with doubts. In three years, he never made a move. He could have any woman he wants with his wealth, power and good looks. I convinced myself I was nothing but a piece of ass, an insignificant legal secretary, and that he was only interested in one night.”
“
Oh, Livvy!” Em’s cry was heartfelt as she reached over and gripped her hand.
“I know; it was stupid. Believe me, he wasn’t happy when he arrived at my door this morning.”
“I imagine not,” David said with a frown. “Did he bust your butt? I would have.”
Livvy shifted in her seat giving herself away.
David chuckled. “Sounds like me and Joseph would get along quite well.”
“Why do I do this to myself?” she asked under her breath as she tossed back the rest of her wine.
“Allow me to take a crack at that.”
“I can’t wait to hear this,” Emma whispered, which earned her another warning glare from her husband.
“I’m keeping a mental count, Emma Jean.”
She promptly wrinkled her nose, but said nothing more. Livvy, despite the murkiness of her situation, was amused and worked hard to suppress a giggle.
“When it comes to love and romance, Livvy dear, as the saying goes ‘sometimes you can’t see the forest for the trees’. I’d hazard a guess that Joseph returns your feelings, but his reluctance to express them might have something to do with a little thing called sexual harassment. Power exchange in the lifestyle is consensual, but in the workplace between a boss and his subordinate, it is inherently dangerous. As far as not having made a move, if you think back on your relationship with the perspective you have now, I’m certain you’ll find signs you’ve overlooked.”
“He’s right, Liv.” Emma nodded encouragingly. “He often took you to family and office functions rather than a date, never forgot your birthday, and sent you flowers just to say thank you.”
“I thought he was being nice.”
“Honey,” Emma said with a small laugh. “My boss has never sent me flowers.”
“And he better not,” David growled. She stroked his forearm as though gentling him, which Livvy thought was sweet.
“So how did you leave it with him?” she asked. “You being here can’t be a good indication.”
Hooked (Decadence Nights Book 1) Page 5