by Brynn Paulin
He laughed at the memory, and she suddenly felt lighter, the pall of the day shifting off her. They talked amicably for a few minutes, keeping the subjects light.
She heard him get into a cab after awhile and give the name of his hotel. His voice grew deeper as he spoke to her again. “Look, honey, I’ve got to go, but I’ll try to get you online in a little bit—as long as the hotel has decent internet. The timing for this just can’t be any worse—”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about me, okay?”
They said goodbye with him repeating how he missed her. It would be a long two months. Within hours, they discovered that he’d been booked into a squat hotel with no internet, let alone good internet. She talked to him for a few more minutes, the reality sinking in. It was fiscally irresponsible for them to talk daily, he’d have spotty internet—none private—when he was away from his room, and the time change had them on opposite poles schedule-wise.
Natalia vowed to give him a great homecoming when he returned. She only hoped they wouldn’t have grown too far apart.
Chapter Five
Natalia was so keyed up she thought she might explode. Fiddling with her letter opener, she stared at the email Ethan had sent her on her personal account. She shouldn’t have it open at work, but the only one around her who’d care if she were doing personal business on company time happened to be in Australia. For two more weeks.
This email was explicit, like most that he’d sent over the last few weeks. Honestly, the man could write the most erotic things. Her thighs tingled as she read the words, her middle fluttering at what he planned to do to her when he came home.
While she was rescanning his promises, getting more and more worked up, a second email popped up. Sender, The Dungeon. For a second, she blinked at it, wondering if she should just delete it. No. It was a reminder of the appointment she’d made the last time she’d been there. She had to either affirm the arrangement or let them know she wouldn’t show up tomorrow. The last time she’d been there, the master had been Ethan. She wouldn’t be that lucky this time, but…
She tapped the letter opener on the desk as she thought. She could go… She could have someone help her burn off some of this steam. It wouldn’t be Ethan, but it wouldn’t be as if she were having sex with the man. She’d get spanked. With her underwear firmly in place. While she thought of Ethan.
If she didn’t rein in her arousal, she’d probably fly apart or melt into a steamy puddle the second Ethan touched her in two weeks. That wouldn’t do. She had to get this under control.
Her decision made, she moved her mouse to the email, double-clicked it open then filled out the attached form for the evening. One spanking, panties on, no role-playing, no special set-up, safe word “artichoke”.
* * * *
Natalia’s stomach was in knots. The closer she got to her appointment, the less sure she was that she should be doing this. It wasn’t romantic or dating anyone and it certainly wasn’t sex. It was just stress relief.
The receptionist let her into the room and told her “John” would be with her shortly. Natalia should put on the required mask and lean over the spanking bench. It was all so clinical. Nothing stimulating. The woman might as well have been showing her into a gyno appointment. Natalia felt just as eager. The first time she’d been here, her tummy had been so excited. Her pussy had been wet with anticipation. She had a feeling if anyone touched her now, it would feel like the Sahara.
No one was touching her.
She shouldn’t be here.
Agitated, she stood up—just as the door opened and a huge man who could have doubled for the Hulk stepped into the room. “Back on the bench now,” he growled.
She backed away. “Um…no. I’m gonna go. I’m sorry to have taken up your time.”
“I said, back on the bench.” He pulled the belt from his black trousers, and her eyes went wide.
“Look, you’ll still get paid. I-I made a mistake. I shouldn’t be here.”
Hulk-John loomed over her and grabbed her arm, yanking her toward the bench. None too gently, he shoved her into position. His hand splayed on her back, and the belt slapped across her buttocks. She screeched at the pain, nothing close to what she’d ever experienced with Ethan.
Fruitlessly, she struggled as another lash came down. “Stop!” she begged. “Stop! I mean it! I don’t want this.”
Why wouldn’t he stop? God, he was so strong, she couldn’t move at all with the way he held and forced her into place. Suddenly, she realized as the belt came down for the fourth time that he thought she was playing her role with him.
“Artichoke!” she screamed. “For fuck’s sake! Artichoke!”
The belt that had already been descending snapped as he broke the arc and yanked it back. Tears streamed down her face, not at the pain—oh God, the pain, and there was nothing erotic about it—but at the knowledge that she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.
She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t have done this.
“Are you all right?” John asked gently, releasing his hold on her and helping her up. “Was I too rough?”
Anything would have been too much. She shook her head, crying in earnest now. She had to get out of here. She had to forget she’d been so stupid!
* * * *
Ethan couldn’t understand it. After six weeks of the most intimacy he’d ever shared with a woman, Natalia had started dodging his calls and his emails. Three days of no communication. It frustrated him more than he could begin to say.
He leaned his head against his seat and closed his eyes as the plane made its descent into Indianapolis. Whatever had gone awry, he’d fix it in a few hours. Natalia didn’t know it, but his business had finished ahead of schedule. He’d had the choice of spending his last ten days sightseeing or getting his ticket changed out so he could come home early. He was coming home early. He’d had enough of being away from the woman he loved, and he did love her. As soon he could, he’d get her to talk to him, get to the bottom of this and ask her to be his.
The plane taxied, and he started to gather his things. By habit, he pulled out his cell phone when the pilot told the passengers they could now make phone calls. Ethan scowled. No message or call from Natalia. There was a call from his friend, Rob, and Ethan wondered what he had to say. Rob was always full of ribald stories from The Dungeon, and at the moment, Ethan really needed something to cheer him up.
Quickly, he dialed into his voicemail and waited for his friend’s cheery voice.
“Yo pal! I hear you’ve been living it up down under. We need to get together and get a good drunk on soon. Anyway, you wanted me to tell you if that woman came in again. I was doing paperwork and it looks like she did. I asked around. What a scene that was. I think Big John might never be the same…”
Ice water ran through Ethan’s veins and he snapped shut the phone without listening to the rest of the message. Rage caught him so tightly, he wanted to rip something—someone—apart. She was his. What the hell! Big John indeed. He’d kill him. And Natalia…
His breath hissed through his teeth. How could she? How could she do this to them? No wonder she’d stopped talking to him. He envisioned the behemoth in leather who stalked the club, going through submissives as if they were Kleenex. John would chew up Natalia and spit her out before she knew what hit her.
This was for shit! How could this happen. Damn it! He’d thought he and Nat had a better connection than this. That they were destined to be together. That she was his and she knew it.
He needed to see her.
The plane had cleared before he got himself together. A three-hour layover loomed before him plus a flight to Detroit, another layover then another flight home. Five hours. He could be home in three if he drove. Determined to get there as soon as possible, he stormed off the plane and went in search for a car rental.
* * * *
Natalia was curled up on the corner of her couch, in the dark, staring at the glow on the wall fr
om the streetlights when someone started pounding on her door with enough force to rattle the pictures in the entry hall. Her brow furrowed, and she pulled an afghan tightly around her. She didn’t need this. She already felt bad enough about what had happened at the club that she couldn’t talk to Ethan. Now some mad, crazed person was banging at her door?
Didn’t she have enough problems? She needed to figure out how to tell Ethan, explain, apologize to him. She could only pray he’d forgive her. She didn’t know what she’d do if he didn’t.
“Natalia!” whoever was in the hallway bellowed. She dropped her head to her knees. Obviously her drunk neighbor. She so didn’t want to fend him off tonight.
The pounding continued then suddenly stopped. Almost immediately, her home phone rang. She ignored it, too, until the machine picked up. “Natalia. Open. The. Door. Now.”
“Ethan?” She jumped from the couch, tripped over the afghan and stumbled to the door. She yanked it open then almost slammed it shut again at the sight of her lover’s livid face. He stepped inside before she could move and banged the door closed for her then flipped on the overhead light.
“I just want you to answer me a few things. I want to hear it from you. Did you go to The Dungeon?”
She stared at him, her stomach sinking to the floor. From the expression on his face, he already knew. Panic gripped her. No amount of apologizing would fix this. She should have known better!
“Did you let someone paddle you?”
“I went there…” she whispered. Tears flooded her eyes, and she couldn’t clearly see him. How did she explain she had “let” the man? She’d been there and that was bad enough.
The anger visibly drained from him, but what it left was worse. “I thought better of you, Natalia. I thought you knew you were mine.”
“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I didn’t—”
He cut her off with a slash of his hand through the air.
“Don’t.” He shook his head. “I can’t talk to you right now. I can’t even see you right now. I needed you to be committed to me—like I was to you. And you showed me you can’t be.” He shook his head, and she felt as if her world was splitting apart. His fingers forked through his hair, and he released a bone-weary sigh. “I’ve been traveling for twenty-two hours, but I needed to see if this was true.”
“Ethan, you don’t understand,” she begged as he opened the door and stepped outside. She followed him. “You don’t understand what happened. Listen to me.”
His deep blue eyes pierced her. “I already know you were there. I don’t need the details.”
And without letting her speak, he left. He just left. And Natalia knew they were over.
Broken, she went back inside.
Tomorrow, she’d plead with him, but when morning came, she found herself unable to deal with seeing him and being rejected. She called in sick to work that day. And the next. And the next. And on that final night, she decided she was going to quit. As childish as it might seem to an outsider, she’d never be over Ethan enough to face him, let alone work compatibly with him as if nothing special had ever happened between them.
Chapter Six
Ethan sat in his dark office, pretty sure he’d never been more miserable. Not when he’d had the chicken pox as an adult, nor when he’d lost his last job due to someone else’s incompetence. Now, he just felt desolate.
Though he’d been bone tired when he’d finally arrived home a few nights ago, he hadn’t been able to sleep. The sight of Nat’s stricken face had haunted him, and he’d known there was something else going on. Something he’d missed. Just what, he didn’t know.
Her despair struck a chord with him once he stepped back to think. What was it? What was going on? Whatever it was, he couldn’t stay angry with her. Weak as some people might think him, as weak as he might have considered another man in the same situation, he needed her too much to give her up. He loved her.
As soon as he’d allowed himself to see past her betrayal and remember how important she was, he’d almost gone back to her place. Almost. But he wasn’t that weak. He’d wait for her. She’d come to him. It was important to both of them that she did.
Three days he’d waited. For three days, she’d avoided him. Ethan had had it. Tonight, he was going to her place, spanking her into submission and fucking her into next week. And then, he’d make good and clear that she was his and only his and that she’d better not let anyone else touch her. Ever.
Standing, he reached for his suit jacket then headed for his door.
Fighting back the depression that had plagued her the last days, Natalia stood at her desk in the partial darkness with the after-hours lighting illuminating enough that she could see the personal items she planned to gather. Tomorrow morning, she’d call personnel and quit. Tonight, she wanted her stuff so she didn’t have to come back after Ethan knew. He hated her anyway, so she couldn’t fathom he’d care. It would probably be a relief to see her go, and she didn’t want to see it in his eyes.
“Natalia.”
She jumped at the sound of his hard voice and looked up guiltily to see him standing in the doorway to his office. His voice revealed nothing but his usual command, and the shadows hid his face. Probably good. She didn’t want to see his disgust or disappointment or anger. She’d been living with it in her memories for days.
“In my office. Now,” he said, and without waiting for her to comply, he went back inside and switched on his desk light.
She considered refusing. He wasn’t her lover or boss anymore. She didn’t have to follow his commands. What would he do if she just headed for the exit? Spank her? Right. She doubted that would ever happen again. Not by him. Not by anyone. No man but Ethan would ever do that to her. She would never allow it again.
A heavy sigh escaped her. If he wanted to rail at her, fine. She’d let him. Feeling a million years old, she headed into his office for the end of the end.
He stood near his desk, most of his body, including his face, still in shadows. “Where have you been?”
“Sick.”
He made a small, infuriated sound. “Don’t lie to me. You haven’t been sick. What are you doing now?”
“Getting my things.” She stared at her hands then shoved them in the pockets of her jeans and glanced away toward the outer office. Looking at him still caused her belly to flip-flop and need to build in her pussy. It didn’t matter how angry he was with her, her body still reacted to him.
He was silent for a few moments. “Why?”
“I’m leaving. Quitting.” Against her better judgment, she flicked her gaze up at him and found he’d moved closer while she’d studiously avoided looking his way.
He raised his eyebrow and tilted his head. “You are, are you?” he asked, sounding vaguely amused.
“Yes.”
“Hmm…”
He turned away, pulling off the tie that had hung loosely around his neck and tossing it on the desk. She moved to leave.
“I’m just learning,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or disobey you or be unfaithful. I wasn’t having sex. I didn’t even enjoy it—in fact, I told him to stop before it even happened. But he thought I was playing until I screamed my safe word at him. Being there, knowing it wasn’t you, it was just…empty.” That same emptiness was creeping up on her again. She needed to get out of here before her fucking tears started again. She bit her lip, disgusted by her weakness even as her heart ached.
“Freeze,” he ground out. “I didn’t tell you that you could go.”
She refused to look at him. “You’re not my boss or my lover or whatever it was we had.” Whatever he called it, the time between them had been wonderful.
“Hmm,” he murmured again. “Is that so? Well, I happen to think I’m your master. Your ‘sir’. The answer to your fantasies.” He wrapped her in his arms then pressed her face against his shirt. His cheek rocked against the top of her head, making her feel cocooned in his protection, dominance and car
ing. He held her tightly, as if he’d never let go. “Thinking we’re done, that’s where you’re wrong, my little truant. You belong to me. Make no mistake—your heart, your soul and your entire body are mine. Even this ass.” He smoothed a hand over it. “Especially this ass when it comes to punishment. Understood? No one else touches it.”
She didn’t respond. She didn’t understand. She wanted to believe, but he couldn’t mean…
When he’d been at her apartment, he’d said they were over. Hadn’t he said that?
“Now,” he said. “I want you to strip and kneel in the corner by my credenza until I tell you otherwise.”
She stared up at him, still confused by the sudden turn of events. His eyes were tender, his face strict.
“I don’t understand.”
“I mean that I’m not giving you up. I’d decided that before you confessed what happened at the club—well, and now I want to beat him to a bloody pulp for daring to touch you when you said no, but that’s another story.”
“He apologized.”
“I don’t care. I’ll deal with him. Later. Now,” he commanded, quietly but firmly, allowing no room for her argument. “Undress.”
Skirting her, he went to the door and closed it—against possible interruption by the cleaning crew, she supposed. Unwilling to disappoint him now that he’d forgiven her, she pulled off her T-shirt while she toed off her tennis shoes. Flicking open the button on her pants, she shimmied out of the jeans.
“Panties,” he growled, smacking her ass.
“I didn’t know I’d see you, sir,” she answered.
“That was your first mistake. The second is that you’re still wearing them.”
She pouted and ran her finger along the waistband. “Take them off me?”
“You want a spanking?”
“From you? More than you’ll ever know.” The thought of his hands on her, anywhere, made her tremble. Goose bumps rose along her arms and her pussy clenched as he drew nearer so they were chest to chest. His long fingers unclasped her bra and dropped it to the floor while she stared up into the hard lines of his face. Commanding, determined, so different from the anger she’d seen before.