by Riley Ashby
“Whether or not I enjoyed it is irrelevant. What—”
“It didn't feel irrelevant to me.”
“What's relevant is that I'm an adult—”
“Barely.”
“—and I'm entitled to make my own decisions about what happens to my body.”
He pondered this. Leaning back in his chair, he gave off an air of leisure, but he cracked his knuckles one by one.
“Why didn't you cry?”
I blinked, surprised by the abrupt subject change. “What?”
“Any normal girl would have cried from the pain you suffered, much less the trauma of being attacked by a grown man. Why didn't you?”
I opened my mouth, but he wasn't done. “Don't give me some bullshit answer about how you're used to it, or you're not normal. Tell me the truth.”
I didn't even feel like I had a choice. Even if I had wanted to lie to him, I couldn't. What’s more, I didn't want to lie. He had that hold over me, a way of asking questions and seeing through the lies that I hadn’t even told yet to demand the whole truth from me.
“I don't feel things.” I looked down and away, anticipating his hand on my chin. He didn't move. I could feel his eyes on me. Every hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end under his attention. I finally looked back at him when I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“The way you came on my face the other night begs to differ.”
I flushed again, this time with anger as well as embarrassment. “Not emotions. Not happiness nor sadness. Nothing.”
He stared at me a moment longer. “That's not true.”
I wanted to scream. Curling my hands into fists, I forced myself to keep my voice level. “You're not allowed to tell me what or how I feel.”
“Actually, Sophia, I am.” His voice was suddenly hard. “Don't forget I currently own you. That means every part of you. And even if I didn't, I would still tell you you're wrong. I've seen you feel fear and anger, even sadness in the days you've been here.”
“Are those supposed to be good things?” I demanded, half rising from my chair. My tenuous hold on my temper began to slip. It was like he oiled my grip on my own personality. “You scare me. You make me angry. Why are those emotions that you’re proud to evoke from me?”
“Lower your voice and sit,” he commanded, and I obeyed immediately. I actually felt tears in my eyes. He was right. I was furious.
I jerked back in my chair as he made a grab for my wrist. He simply leaned forward and seized me. I struggled, but he fixed me with a look that quieted every urge to fight.
“You feel other things too.”
“Let me go,” I whispered.
“Only if you relax.”
This was a battle of wills that I was not going to win. I didn’t have the fortitude to stand up to him. I forced myself to lean back in the chair, and he released my wrist. He smirked, but not in an unkind way.
“I never see you more at ease than when you've taken an order from me. Your whole body changes.”
I frowned. “What?”
“You trust me, Sophie. A lot more than you realize.”
“I barely know you.”
A shrug. “That's true, but I think you know I'll take care of you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his steepled fingers. “I think it's been a long time since you had someone make that promise and keep it.”
“You didn't keep it,” I snapped. “You tried to give me away to some sicko as part of a business deal. And that ended with bruised ribs and black eyes.”
His face hardened, but he didn't retreat.
“That won't happen again.”
“You can't know that!” I slammed my fist on the table. He grabbed my wrist tightly.
“Do not raise your voice in here.” I heard the threat behind his words. Shamefully, I lowered my eyes. For some reason I still wanted to please him. He released me, and I rubbed the red marks on my skin left by his fingers. His eyes flickered to them then to me.
I instantly flushed seeing the lust in his eyes. I already saw how he reacted to marks on my body. I wanted him to give me more.
“Let me tell you what's going to happen next. We're going to do two things, and then we'll talk again.”
I settled a little bit. He had a plan. That was good. Still, I was nervous. Everything about this world was different from the one I was used to navigating. There was no chance that whatever he had in store for me would be easy. He leaned forward, one elbow on the table, gesticulating toward me with his fork.
“No more of this arguing. You’re going to do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. You’re not going to question me. You’re going to wear what I tell you to wear. You’re going to obey me in all things. Do you understand?”
Alarm bells sounded in my ears. This was dangerous. Saying yes to everything he told me to do?
“And what happens if I don’t want to do what you tell me?”
He smiled. “You'll find out if you disobey.”
A little thrill rushed through me. How had he managed to change the tone of this exchange with just a few words? I had wanted to throw my drink in his face moments ago, but he had such command over me he changed my demeanor instantly. His eyes were burning into mine and held me in place. I wanted to know more.
“How do I know you’re not going to …” I trailed off, blushing, and gestured toward my chest. “I’m not giving you free rein.”
He smiled and stood up.
“That’s the second thing.”
He walked around the table to me, yanking the chair out so he could place his hands on the armrests. He caged me in, and I flattened against the back of the chair, shrinking from his raw power.
“You’re going to kiss me,” he said. His voice changed tenor completely, from hard and commanding to a whisper like gently falling snow. He brought his mouth millimeters from mine and hovered there, waiting for me to make the next move.
I felt pulled toward him but stopped myself just shy of obeying him. I hadn’t agreed to anything yet.
“Why?”
He licked his lips. I tried not to look at his tongue.
“I won't touch you again until you do.”
I drew in a shaky breath. I wanted him to touch me again and again. But for me to reach out and touch him first … it was too much.
“I won’t order you to do anything to me that you don’t want to do yourself, unless you kiss me first.”
If I kissed him, I'd be handing over a part of me I wasn't ready to let go. It would mean admitting I had something to feel … something that could be hurt.
Could I trust this man not to bruise my soul?
When I didn't close the final distance, Ellery sighed and moved to kiss me on the cheek. I closed my eyes at the feel of his soft lips on my skin.
“You'll let me in eventually, pet.”
Hearing that nickname again made me melt, and I wanted to give in right away. I turned my face toward him, feeling his stubble scrape against my flesh, but he pulled away with a teasing grin.
“I'll make sure of it.”
He sat back in his own chair and regarded me expectantly. He wanted an answer.
No more being tied up, no more kisses on my bruises, no more earth-bending orgasms … until I made the first move.
It was a big responsibility, but I recognized it for what it was—control. Command over a situation I hadn’t been able to wrap my mind around since I stumbled into that office and was put up for evaluation like a thoroughbred mare. A chance to hold the reins once more, even if only for a moment.
“Okay,” I whispered, and his smile nearly broke my already shattered heart.
I could never give him what he wanted, and it was going to pull him to pieces.
She came to me on her own the next morning, dressed once more in shorts and a tank top. I spun my finger at her, pointing back toward the door.
“No. If you’re staying here, you’re dressing correctly. Go change.
”
She frowned, crossing her arms and walking toward me. “What are you talking about?”
“I think I was pretty clear. You need to put on a dress or at least slacks.”
Still she scowled. “That’s a ridiculous rule and you know it.”
“But a rule, nonetheless. Are you going to obey me?”
Her eyes widened, lips parting as she recalled our conversation from the night before.
“You agreed, remember?”
For a moment it looked like she was going to obey. One bare foot turned toward the door, her weight shifting, before she changed her mind. She smirked, testing me.
“I don’t feel like it.”
I rose, letting the email I was typing remain unfinished on my screen. She stood still as I sauntered toward her. My hand snapped out to grab her wrist, yanking her against me. She gasped and flinched but didn’t pull back.
“You want to do this so soon over something so meaningless as your wardrobe?”
She stepped closer and pushed against me.
“It’s not meaningless. It’s how I express myself. My clothes are part of my individuality.”
“You have no individuality beyond what I give you. This is your last chance. Go change.”
She shook her head, whispering her reply, “No.”
I flipped her around, pulling her wrist behind her back as I walked her toward the desk. I let go as I pushed her forward, and her hands flew out in front of her to catch herself as she fell forward at the waist. I reached around her front, yanking open her shorts and pulling down the zipper before she could protest.
“You said—”
“I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want until you kissed me. But I also promised that you would be punished if you didn’t obey me. And you’re not.”
I pulled down her shorts, dropping them around her ankles and leaning back to admire her round ass.
My finger hooked under the edge of her underwear. “We need to get you something prettier to wear. These are not going to cut it.” My left hand drifted down my front to stroke myself as my right landed softly in the small of her back.
“I suppose you could walk around in this for the rest of the day, but we can’t have anyone else seeing you like this.”
My cock grew harder and longer under my hand as I stroked the both of us in unison. She peeked over her shoulder, biting her lip when she saw exactly what I was doing.
“This doesn’t seem like a punishment.”
I grinned. “Where did you get this smart mouth?” But she was right. I was enjoying myself too much. I stepped back, gathering my wits for a second before indicating she could turn around again.
“Count,” I told her.
“Count what?”
My hand landed on her right asscheek with a crack.
She yelped and jumped, trying to turn around, but I put my hand on the back of her neck and held her in place.
“Bratty little girls get punished. I told you to count.”
“One,” she said, breathless, bending deeper and sticking her ass out even more at the same time.
“That’s good.” I praised her as I rubbed her skin where I’d struck her then flipped quickly to strike her on the other side.
She jumped again, but this time there was a little moan in her voice as she said, “Two.”
“It sounds like you might be enjoying yourself, pet. This is meant to be disciplinary.”
Slap.
“Three.”
Slap.
“Four. “
I was nearly doubled over in pain myself. My cock was harder than it had ever been in my life.
“I’m not sure this is punitive enough,” I said as we reached ten. I slid one finger down the crack of her ass and between her legs, pressing against the damp fabric that barely covered her tiny pussy.
She hadn’t realized it, but I came all over my hand while I was eating her the other night. As she moaned and writhed beneath me, I kept my eyes open and focused on her. I drank in every inch of her pink folds, wet and dripping while I ran my tongue up and down her hot slit. The dip of her hips, the gentle curve of her stomach, the feel of her soft hair beneath my tongue. All of it drove me wild, and as she came, the taste of her pleasure was too much. I reached down and grabbed my cock as my own climax overcame me.
Which was why it was so difficult to pull my hand away and not tease her into a frenzy once more. I dragged my fingers through her wetness, soaking my skin, then smeared it over the red of her bottom.
“If ever again you question that you belong to me,” I whispered, “remember how wet I made you by putting my palm against your skin. I drove you to desire by hurting you. Next time, I won’t hesitate to hit you harder. Sooner or later, we’ll find your breaking point.”
I crouched down to grab her shorts and dragged them back up her legs, reaching around to fasten them just as I had loosened them only a few minutes before. She tried to turn around, but I pushed myself against her, holding her in place as my cock pushed against her ass. I placed my fingers, still sticky with her arousal, in front of her face.
“Suck.”
Again, she hesitated.
“Do you want to try my belt next?”
Her lips parted then closed around my fingers. My cock jerked in my pants, and she whimpered as her tongue ran over the pads of my fingers. She sucked me gently, then harder, until I yanked my hand away.
“Jesus, woman.” I placed my hands over hers on the desk, our breath mingling as I lowered my head to see her better. “You’re trying to destroy me. “
“Only obeying orders,” she whispered.
I shook my head. “What is this confidence? You were too afraid to look at me a few days ago. Now you’re taunting me into spanking you in the middle of a crowded house.”
Her face suddenly flushed as she remembered that we were far from alone here. “I … I don’t know. I don’t know what’s gotten in to me.”
“You’re a natural submissive.”
“I sure didn’t submit to Chase.”
That made me smile. “You’re a natural submissive to me.”
I stood up, my cock finally soft enough that I could walk without being obscene.
“Honestly,” she said, turning, her expression shifting from aroused to anxious in a smooth, almost practiced move. “I’m not like this. I’m not the kind of person that gets off on power games or pain.”
“Aren’t you?”
She bit her lip as she looked up at me. I reached out and tugged it free, barely touching her.
“Don’t overthink it,” I told her, reading the disquiet that had suddenly crowded her thoughts. “You need to go pick out something else to wear. Unless you want me to do it for you?”
She shook her head. “No, I think I can manage that.”
She needed time to think. I hadn’t meant to upset her, but she had learned something about herself today. I hoped it didn’t make her pull away from me.
It was a full hour before she made her way back to the office. She was finally dressed appropriately, in a pink sundress that showed the gentle curves of her arms. I grabbed her hand as she approached my desk and pulled her around to me, placing her onto my lap. She tried to tug away, but I held her tighter.
She squirmed in my lap. “What are you doing?”
“Holding you,” I said. She looked away, biting her lip, but I could tell she was smiling.
“I'm not a child.”
“So eager to look like an adult.” I loosened my grip on her, but she didn’t move away. “No, you're not a child.” I remembered her reaction to our conversation the night before, the way she had turned toward me at the mention of one word. “You’re my pet.” She jerked away, but it seemed a perfunctory reaction, something she thought she should do even though what I was doing was pleasing to her. I pulled her back as quickly as she recoiled. “And you deserve some aftercare.” I ran my fingers up and down her arm, raising goose bumps.
“I wasn't ex
pecting the whole 'Fifty Shades' deal,” she muttered.
I snorted at that, earning me a small smile.
“I want you in here while I work.” I released my hold on her arm to brush my thumb across her cheek. “It's nice to have something pretty to look at in between emails.”
She blushed, and I had to suppress a smile of my own.
“If you can sit quietly this morning, I'll get you another book.”
She opened her mouth to argue. I held up a finger, reminding her of what she agreed to—no more arguing. Her face twisted like she was thinking of quarreling anyway, but finally she gave me a silent nod. She stood and moved toward the armchair across the room, but I caught her wrist again.
“Kneel,” I said, indicating with my chin.
She was gobsmacked. “Here?”
“Don't make me repeat myself. You agreed to obey.”
She tried to fold her arms in defiance. I didn’t let go of her. “That's demeaning.”
“That's the point. If you make me tell you again, it'll be even more so. Please do, though. I'd love to see you gagged.”
I almost hoped she would argue, but she bit back her reply at my threat. Her eyes never leaving mine, she slowly sank to her knees before me. She sat back on her heels and looked up at me expectantly.
I crossed my legs to hide the tightening in my pants and leaned over to cup her chin gently.
“You were made for this,” I murmured, stroking her cheek. She still looked angry but had softened as well. “Be a good girl, now.”
She was. She sat quietly, her eyes either on me or the ground for the next two hours as I took calls and worked on my laptop. I kept my speech vague and used pronouns instead of names, unsure of how much she'd be able to pick up about my activities. Every time I looked at her, she looked away.
Around noon I had both our meals delivered to my office. I indicated she should stand and then pulled her on to my lap again.
“You did well,” I said gently, reaching around her to cut her food and then offer her a bite on a fork. She bit gingerly, like she was afraid I would snatch it away. I alternated feeding her and myself until she refused further bites. I set down the utensils and then turned her to face me. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”