Surrender to Temptation Part III: Tempted to Obey

by Jameson, Lauren

  Fisting one hand in my ponytail, he tugged until I leaned back against his chest. I resisted, furious at what he had just done.

  “You have to understand.” Releasing my hair, he pressed his palm to the flat of my back, pushing me into the hard wall. I could feel the chill through the thin material of my blouse and my bra, and squeezed my eyes shut in defense against whatever was to come next.

  I heard the sound of his belt buckle, then the harsh rasp of a zipper being lowered, rending the air in two. The naked length of his erect cock nestled against my buttocks as the swish of leather through cloth told me that he was removing his belt.

  “Three blows.” He paused, waiting for my reaction.

  “No.” My heart pounded, but I couldn’t quite tell if it was in fear or desire. “No. I don’t want that.”

  “Are you using your safe word, Devon?” My breath hitched in and out roughly as my mind whirled.

  “No.” I forced the word out. I was scared, but at the same time I wanted this, though I still didn’t know why. “No, I’m not.”

  I screamed in a mix of desire and frustration when the leather of the belt hit the flesh of my right cheek. The sharp sting spread outward from the site of the blow like heat radiating from the sun. Tears sprang from my eyes as I fisted my hands and struggled against my bonds.

  He was holding back. I knew he was holding back, because the first lash, and the next when it came on my left cheek, didn’t hurt nearly as much as the spanking he had administered to me the week earlier. Still, I felt more raw, closer to a breaking point when that third blow came glancing over the flesh between my legs.

  “You’re a fucking bastard.” The skin of my ass was on fire, and the flesh beneath felt swollen. And still I was aroused to the point of pain, aching for the feeling of his cock inside of me.

  “You know your safe word, Devon.” Craning my neck, I saw him kneel behind me again. With those strong hands he positioned my legs tightly together before the leather of the belt was looped just above my knees. He threaded the length through the buckle and cinched it snugly.

  I felt myself begin to shake uncontrollably. Yes, I knew my safe word. I also knew that I wasn’t going to say it. If I used it, I would never see him again.

  I couldn’t stand the thought. There was a flame inside of me, one that he had ignited, one that craved the feelings that he was pulling from my very core.

  Whatever he chose to give me, it was what I wanted.

  I closed my eyes. Behind me Zach stood up. I felt his grip at my hips, pulling me so that I was bent at the waist, hands still bound, thighs tied together, ass naked and presented to him.

  I felt the head of his cock slide between the cheeks of my ass. As soon as he found my entrance he shoved inside of me, pushing until his balls swung heavily, tapping the sensitive skin of my labia.

  Bound as I was, I had no choice but to bend further. His fingers digging relentlessly into my hips, he pulled back and drove deep again, fucking into me with an animal ferocity.

  I loved it. He satisfied a need deep inside of me that even I didn’t understand.

  My legs were bound so tightly together that the friction was nearly unbearable. My ass was still on fire from the blows, the skin burning every time the jut of his hip bones slammed forward into the delicate flesh.

  Though I could flex my fingers, I couldn’t otherwise move. I was helpless, completely vulnerable to him.

  It was the best thing I had ever felt in my life.

  He moved faster, his pelvis slapping against the mounds of my buttocks. This time when I felt pleasure spiraling low and deep in my belly, I fought to stave it off.

  I didn’t want to come yet. Not until he was done with me.

  As if sensing my thoughts, Zach seated himself to the hilt one final time and then, with a strangled groan, pulled his cock free of the tight channel of my flesh. I whimpered as he smacked my ass with the flat of his palm.

  “It would be so easy to come inside of you right now.” Grasping my ass cheeks in both hands, he caressed my flesh. “Deep inside of your pussy. Or, even better, inside your hot little ass. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, my little minx?” Those hands smoothed over my cheeks, opening me so that he could look his fill.

  Excitement bloomed deep inside of me at his crude comments, even as nerves flared. Was that to be my punishment—was he going to push himself inside of my ass, inside the tight heat that had never before been breached?

  I was turned-on and terrified in a thrilling way. Could I do it?

  “I think you like that idea.” One finger traced over the stripe of my spine. Then he closed his grip over my bound wrists, tugging until I turned awkwardly. Before he could forbid me not to, I eagerly looked him over, my eyes drinking their fill of the man who was slowly, steadily driving me wild.

  His hair was messy, standing in sexy black spikes as if he had run his fingers through it. His tie had been loosened and was askew. His skin was flushed, the sexy hue of arousal painted over his features.

  Best of all, his suit pants were hanging loosely on his lean hips. I could now see that he wore nothing beneath them—there was nothing keeping me from the thick, incredibly hard length that jutted forward from its nest of dark curls.

  “On your knees.” My eyes widened, and I bent, trying to do as I was commanded. With my legs bent, it was a nearly impossible task. Zach clasped me on either side of my rib cage, biceps beneath his dress shirt rippling as he lifted me off my feet and dropped me on my knees in front of him.

  “I didn’t like seeing his hand on you.” The wild look in Zach’s eyes pulled my own dormant grief from the depths of my soul. I wanted so badly to heal this beautiful, damaged man.

  If only he would let me.

  “Zach . . .” I squeezed my thighs together, trying to assuage the deep ache that had bloomed from his caresses. I was scared that he would never give me release, that he would keep me here, bound and at his mercy, forever.

  “I don’t like how he makes you feel.” Lacing his fingers behind my head, Zach brought me toward him.

  I thought I sensed a new warmth in his demeanor toward me, and then I remembered my earlier disappointment in thinking he cared for me.

  I was suddenly so, so tired. I was a train wreck of emotions. I wanted to be done with games.

  “Trust me, Devon.” His touch gentling the tiniest bit, Zach pulled my head forward until the head of his cock brushed my lips.

  Clamping my lips between my teeth, I shuddered in a breath and looked up at him. What I saw on his face halted my anger in midstride.

  Gone was any anger, any arrogance from his gorgeous features. In their place were wonderment, encouragement, and even pride.

  I felt my mind empty of everything except sensation as he pushed forward between my lips.

  I did nothing more than to purse my lips around his thick length as he thrust into my mouth again and again. The head of his cock rammed against the back of my throat, and I gagged, but still kept my mouth clamped around him.

  If this was what he wanted, then this was what he would get. I would try to learn about pleasure without emotional attachment.

  I felt a trickle of salt stinging the back of my throat, heard him hiss in a breath as his thrusts came faster and faster. I opened my mouth wider, strained to take him deeper, pressed my body against his legs.

  I gave him everything.

  With a hoarse shout he pulled free of my mouth with a wet popping noise. Grasping his cock in one hand, he fisted the shaft up and down once, twice; and then he was coming, hot, salty streams of ejaculate that he caught in the handkerchief he always carried.

  “Mine.” His voice was harsh, coarse with need. “You are mine.”

  I nodded and licked the salt off my lips with my tongue. Eyes closed again, I lifted my head and let
him shake the final few drops of his orgasm onto my tongue, which I tucked back into my mouth before demurely swallowing.

  I stayed kneeling, my knees numb, feeling as though a great well inside of me had been filled. I kept my eyes on the floor as self-awareness gradually came back to me.

  Above me, Zach was breathing heavily, his hands still tangled in my hair.

  “Jesus.” The word was a whisper. I heard him search in his pocket, then felt him clasp my chin in his hand. “Devon, look at me.”

  I looked up, but I had nothing to say. I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t embarrassed. I just didn’t know how much longer I could play his games.

  “Come here.” Hauling me to my feet, Zach wiped my face with the tail of his shirt. He wiped away most of my makeup with it, but I didn’t care.

  I was strung tight, and yet peacefully empty. It was incredibly strange.

  “Devon.” Zach growled when I refused to look him in the eye. Lowering his head to mine, he claimed my mouth with his own. Forcing his tongue past my lips, he claimed me with his kiss, branding me. He had to have tasted his own release on my skin, but he didn’t seem to care.

  His lips moved to the curve of my neck, and as they did he slipped his hand between my legs. I cried out softly when his skilled fingers found my clit. He manipulated the engorged nub skillfully and I came apart beneath his touch, screaming as the pressure inside of me finally exploded.

  He held me to him until my shudders quieted, then smoothed my skirt back over my hips. My tears ran freely then, purging my flesh of all of the nasty emotions that I had been clutching at so tightly—my devastation and the sense of inferiority from seeing Tom again, the anger at Zach, even the guilt over not living up to what my parents had expected me to be.

  Embarrassed, I shrugged my face into my shoulder to dry my tears as Zach undid his belt from my legs, my panties from my wrists. After a long moment he tucked them back into his pocket.

  They were far too stretched out to wear.

  I was silent as I massaged sensation back into my wrists, assessing the situation as Zach pulled out his cell phone. We were in the elevator at Phyrefly. Surely by now someone had noticed that it was stuck between floors. That someone was going to know exactly what had transpired as soon as we started moving again and I had to step off onto my work floor, my clothes wrinkled, my hair a snarled mess, and my makeup smeared across my face. Tears had left salt tracks down my cheeks, and I smelled of sex and of Zach.

  “Mrs. Gallagher. This is Mr. St. Brenton. I have sent Miss Reid on a personal errand for me. She won’t be returning this afternoon.” There was that thoughtfulness again, shown in his understanding that I couldn’t face my colleagues right then—and possibly ever again.

  “Philippa. Are there any meetings waiting on me? No? All right, then. Please head down to the Starbucks on the corner and get me a venti dark roast, black. Yes, you.” As he ended his call, Zach ran his key card in front of the elevator sensor again and then slammed a fist into the button for the top floor—his floor.

  “Zach, I can’t take any more today.” My voice was tired. The day had been an emotional roller coaster.

  I wanted to go to bed. And when I got there, I wanted to sleep. I needed time to think about how I was feeling.

  How could he inspire such passion in me, how could he make me want to do these dirty things, when he hadn’t told me straight out that he felt as strongly as I did?

  “I’m taking you to my office so that you can clean up.” His voice was steady, but was underlaid with something that I couldn’t quite identify. “I have a shower, and something that you can change into. Then I’ll have Charles take you home.”

  I almost corrected him, reminding him that I didn’t currently have a home, since the hotel where I was staying certainly didn’t count. But what did it matter, really?

  I needed some space. I was seriously freaked-out.

  The elevator doors opened onto an empty reception area on Zach’s floor. I was thankful that he had had the foresight to send Philippa the paper-doll princess on an errand, and I smirked a bit to myself at the thought of just how disgruntled it must have made her.

  “The bathroom is through there. There are towels, soap, a robe— use whatever you need.” For the first time since I had met him, Zach sounded off of his game. Avoiding eye contact, I hurried into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me.

  “Christ.” I whispered out loud to myself and breathed in deeply, bracing my arms on the counter and leaning over the sink. “What the hell was that?”

  My head cleared minutely now that I was in a separate room. Zach was so charismatic, his personality so imposing, that I couldn’t help but attune myself to him entirely when he was with me. Though I was acutely aware of him in the next room, I gulped at my aloneness, trying to slow my thundering pulse and calm my skittering nerves.

  You are in way over your head, Devon. Slowly I looked up, looked at myself in the mirror. I barely recognized the woman in the mirror. Oh, the wide blue eyes were the same, and so was the blond hair. Same face, same body.

  But Zach had revealed a part of myself that I hadn’t known existed. Somehow I knew that he wouldn’t hurt me. I trusted him—and I had from the very start. What scared me was how much I had liked it. The kink, the edge of violence, the obsessive need, that was what made me terrified.

  I was craving more, even as my flesh was still tender from his touch. And what I craved wasn’t restricted to the physical—no, those rare glimpses into the vulnerable Zach, the one that I suspected no one else saw, those were more addicting than the pleasure he pulled from my body.

  Squeezing my eyes tightly together, I talked myself out of banging my head into the wall repeatedly in frustration. Instead I turned on the shower—unlike the one in his bedroom at his mansion, this one had a normal faucet. As I stepped beneath spray that was as hot as I could handle, I tried to get a grip.

  He had warned me—he wasn’t interested in a typical relationship. And I knew that I would accept whatever proposal he threw my way, because now having had a taste, I was desperate for more.

  But could I do it without losing myself along the way?

  ***

  I schooled my face into a smile as I stepped out of the office bathroom. My hair was slightly damp from the mist of the shower, but I had combed it and pulled it back into a tidy ponytail. Zach hadn’t had any makeup in his drawers—which I couldn’t deny pleased me, because that meant that he didn’t often have women in his office shower—but I had at least washed the remaining smudges of makeup from my face.

  Though my skirt was still fairly presentable, my blouse was a disaster. It was missing two buttons, and had wrinkled horribly. One of Zach’s dress shirts had hung on the back of the bathroom door, and after a long hesitation I had shrugged out of my shirt and into his.

  Though I regretted it as soon as I had, I didn’t have a choice. He must have worn the shirt and not had it laundered since, because his unmistakable scent—the one that he had branded me with—rose from the fibers of the garment as I tucked it into my skirt.

  Well, I wouldn’t be able to return to my department dressed like this. But I was at least presentable enough to go home.

  Nerves rioted through my belly as I crossed the office to stand in front of Zach’s desk. He was at the window that comprised the entire wall of his office, and though his face was expressionless, his body had tensed as soon as I had opened the door to the bathroom.

  “Zach.” What I was about to do terrified me, but I felt compelled to regardless. He might have considered it a “misplaced sense of give and take,” as he had called it the night we met, but that was just how I functioned.

  As much as it scared me, he had given me an emotional release that afternoon that I knew had taken me one giant step forward on my personal journey.

 
I owed him one.

  He didn’t respond to my soft query—he may not have even heard me. I repeated his name, a little bit louder. He turned, an eyebrow raised, and when he fully faced me I almost ran out the door.

  The arrogant billionaire who ran a massive corporation had displaced the emotional, vulnerable lover completely.

  “I—I know you don’t want anything serious.” His lips thinned, and I stuttered, struggling to get the words out. “But you gave me something today, something big and scary and . . . well, big. I owe you.”

  I inhaled deeply and forced myself to expel the next words on a rush.

  “I will whip you. That is, if you still want me to.”

  Pain and pleasure streaked over his face, then fury. I stood with my hands balled so tightly into fists that my nails cut through the skin. I watched as the enigmatic billionaire fought through his emotions and finally emerged on the other side as the calm, controlled man who was king of his own empire.

  “I’m not interested.”

  I blinked, certain that I had heard him wrong. The man who had just fucked me seven ways to Sunday in the office elevator was more than interested; he was in as deep as I was.

  But the words stung, and a trickle of insecurity worked its way through me.

  “If you want to forget it, that’s fine.” My eyes scanned his face anxiously. What was going on?

  “You presume too much, Miss Reid.” Pulling his chair away from his desk, Zach sank into it with controlled precision. He stared up at me with cool disinterest painting his features, and sickness rolled over me in a wave.

  “What am I presuming, exactly?” Ice frosted my veins as I looked at the stranger across from me, the stranger whose taste was still in my mouth.

  “Presuming that I want anything more from you at all, Miss Reid.” Casually he reached over to his computer monitor and flicked it on, seeming ready to dismiss me and start work. “I have had you now—had you more than once, so kudos to you for holding my interest. But I’m done with you. There is a world of beautiful women out there to fuck.”