“I guess we are,” he said. “But no matter how much you love your work, it’s important to take a break every now and again. And I think, deep down, you’re aware of that. I also think that’s why you choose to come here to vacation instead of going somewhere else. I don’t think it’s just about the sex and submission and pain. Am I wrong?”
There it was again, that unnerving gaze, those brown eyes piercing, probing.
“No,” Nayla admitted at length, “you’re not wrong.” She smiled ruefully. “As you might already have noticed, I have trouble… switching off, as it were. I have some pretty big, important clients and they’re used to getting a response right away. I’m used to giving it to them. They pay for the privilege, so…” She trailed off and gave a half-hearted shrug, not sure whether she was trying to convince him or herself. “Usually, when I’m here with Kurt, he makes sure we spend as little time as possible in our room. We basically only come back here to shower, sleep, or…” More heat crept up her face and she wondered why she felt so shy talking about sex with this man. She wasn’t usually so bashful.
“Fuck,” he finished for her, and the way he said it made a long, languorous thump of desire pulse through her core.
“Yes. That.” It was the circumstances, she decided. She was, after all, lying naked in a tub of clear, oily water while he sat, fully clothed, beside her. Watching her. Interrogating her.
“Nayla,” he said, and she had to drag her eyes up to meet his unsettling gaze. “I know I’m not Kurt, and we’ve only just met, but I’d like you to extend me the same courtesy.”
“You want me to fuck you?” she blurted out, amazed that he was asking her in such a frank way instead of letting it happen organically. She was definitely attracted to him, but still…
He barked out a laugh. “I was actually referring to your work. For the rest of your time here, I want you to keep your phone and laptop switched off and zipped up in your suitcase, where they belong.”
She felt her eyes widen. “Not check them at all?” Even Kurt had understood that she had to look at her phone twice a day, both in the morning and in the evening, and he’d allowed her to judge what was urgent—and needed an immediate response—and what was not.
“Not check them at all,” Master Landon confirmed.
“Not even once a day? I don’t think I can do that.”
“Then you have a very serious problem.”
His tone of voice made her think he was referring to some kind of punishment for not agreeing to his rule, but then he kept talking and she realized he was actually inferring something else.
“It’s not healthy to be that addicted to anything,” he went on. “Besides, how can you ever really switch off and relax if you’re still thinking about work every day?”
“I can relax,” she said defensively. “When I’m in the Dungeon, or…” having sex , she added mentally, “with someone else, I can relax!”
“I don’t believe you.” Scooching closer to her, he laid his hand on her forearm and she closed her eyes as the same tingles as before prickled over her skin at the contact. “Can you at least try? For me?” He narrowed his brown eyes. “Good girls get rewarded very nicely.”
Nayla’s heart skipped a beat. “And bad girls?” she said breathlessly.
“They get punished, of course. And not in a good way. Trust me.”
Aroused beyond belief, Nayla suddenly found herself wishing he would dip his hand into the water, slide it between her thighs, and…
“So, do we have an agreement?” Master Landon’s voice broke her out of her reverie.
“Depends on the reward,” she said brazenly.
“Oh, there are all kinds of those,” he said, his voice suddenly husky, and she wondered idly whether he was as aroused as she. “Would you like a little taste?”
Suddenly unable to speak, her heart pounding, Nayla nodded.
Slowly, without taking his gorgeous eyes off her, Landon undid the button of his cuff and rolled up his shirt sleeve to reveal a tanned, thick forearm. Nayla suppressed a moan at the sight that makes so many submissives quiver in all kinds of ways.
“Spread your thighs,” he said gruffly, and she parted her knees, leaning back and closing her eyes.
“Look at me,” he said, “and don’t move. The minute you move, I’ll stop. Understood?”
The naked hunger in his gaze when she finally dragged her heavy lids open to meet his eyes almost made her come on the spot. She watched, breathlessly, as he reached into the water.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he ordered, “and remember, don’t fucking move.”
It was so much harder than she’d imagined. When his fingertip first brushed her clit, so softly she barely felt it, her immediate instinct was to thrust her hips forward, desperate for more friction. Instead, she clenched the sides of the tub and held her breath, frozen with need.
“That’s it, good girl,” he said as his finger began to move, tracing tiny circles around her pounding, thumping nub, his unnerving gaze pinning her in place.
Nayla didn’t think she’d ever been so turned on in her life before. He’d barely touched her and she was already on the brink.
“Are you going to obey me?” he murmured, his fingertip still moving steadily, inexorably, keeping her on the edge.
She felt her pussy flutter at his words. “Yes, Sir.”
“Are you going to be a good little girl and do as I tell you? Even if that means keeping your devices locked away?”
Every fiber of her being was thrumming now. The effort it took not to move was making her tremble. The pleasure he was causing with just a single, casual fingertip was at once both humiliating and incredible. “Yes, Sir. Oh, God, please…”
She was drowning in his velvet-brown eyes, her rigid, swollen clit being dragged up and down, around and around, the feeling so intense, she could barely stand it.
“Say it,” he ordered.
It took every ounce of willpower for her to form any coherent thought. Her entire existence felt like it was reduced to the sensations he was creating between her spread thighs. “I’ll… I’ll be a good… little… girl…” she managed in a broken, breathless whisper, “for you… Sir. I’ll… obey you.”
“Good,” he said curtly, and then he increased the pressure just the tiniest amount. “You can come now but remember: don’t fucking move,” he added, and that growled order sent her over the edge.
The waves of pleasure turned into a tsunami, beginning at her throbbing, aching bud and crashing through her entire body. Fighting to keep still, Nayla gripped the sides of the tub for dear life and felt more than heard herself let out a ragged groan of pleasure.
“Don’t stop, good girl, that’s it,” Landon coaxed, still stroking her with infuriating precision, “keep coming hard for Daddy.”
His words only brought about a second wave of climax and Nayla finally lost the battle to keep her eyes open as her pussy contracted hard in the warm water.
“Eyes on me,” Landon barked, and she shook her head, still coming helplessly beneath his single, infuriating fingertip, wondering how long he’d draw out this exquisite torture and suddenly unable to meet his gaze—at least, not until he abruptly stopped stroking her, gripped her upper arm, and yanked her unceremoniously, dripping wet, out of the tub and over his knee.
“Naughty… little… girls… who… don’t… do… as… they’re… told…” he began scolding her, punctuating each word with a hard, stinging slap on her bare, wet bottom, “don’t… get… to… finish… coming!”
Her clit still fluttering, Nayla threw back her head and howled at the sharp, sudden contrast between being brought to a mind-blowing orgasm in a warm bath and being draped, shivering, over his thick, firm thighs, his huge hand quickly reigniting the fire Master Marshall’s strap had created just a short time ago.
She took small comfort in the fact that she was drenching Landon’s slacks, but even that was diminished when he began spanking the backs of her thighs,
all the way down to her knee hollows.
Why did it always hurt so much more on wet skin?
Even though she was a bona fide painslut, even though she enjoyed forms of play many people might consider extreme, and could take long and severe spankings, beatings and canings, Nayla had never before been over a man’s knee. There was something about the position which added a whole new layer of humiliation to it, she thought helplessly as his huge hand kept crashing down, the rhythmic slaps of his palm on her bare, wet skin reverberating off the tile.
As well as the increasing sting in her buttocks, she felt completely helpless, pinned as she was, his free arm holding her firmly in place, her arms and legs dangling helplessly to the floor.
He had stopped scolding but the tingles his words had evoked still fluttered between her thighs, intensified both by the pain of the spanking and the situation overall.
Nayla was suddenly very aware of how much she wanted Master Landon to drag her into the bedroom and fuck her.
But he was a Castle Master. Did they even do that with guests?
As she lay limply over his lap, both savoring and detesting every moment of her first ever OTK spanking, she knew just one thing for sure: the next few days were going to be very interesting indeed.
Landon tried to ignore the raging erection in his slacks, glad Nayla wasn’t making it worse by moving around a lot as he painted her gorgeous ass and luscious thighs a bright, hot pink with his hand.
The expression in her stunning green eyes as she’d climaxed had almost been his undoing and, desperate to regain some semblance of control, he’d contrived a flimsy excuse to take her over his knee.
But now she was proving hard to read, not giving him any signals as to how she was feeling. Were it not for the occasional whimper, he’d almost believe she’d fallen asleep. They hadn’t even agreed on a private safeword, he realized, mentally kicking himself for being so careless. Then again, the admittance paperwork did state to use the standard traffic light system if the Castle safeword wasn’t required and a personal one had not been decided. Nayla wasn’t new to BDSM, surely she’d find some way to let him know if he was crossing any of her boundaries.
Every now and again, he’d find his gaze drawn to the tight, puckered little hole peeking out from between her asscheeks as he spanked her, seeming for all the world to be winking at him in invitation. His dick twitched as he imagined himself seating a nice big plug deep inside that cute little hole and then sliding himself to the hilt in her wet pussy.
When she showed no signs of breaking down, crying, safewording or otherwise calling a halt to the spanking, aware of the building sting in his palm, he decided she’d had enough for the moment. Her ass was now a shiny, hot pink, as were her thighs. Landon was intrigued by her stoic behavior and wondered just how much she could take. It had been a long time since he’d really been able to indulge his sadistic streak. Most of the women he played with tended to safeword long before he would like them to.
She flinched when he raked his nails over her sore skin. “The next time you disobey me,” he said coolly, “I will plug this tight little hole of yours, take a cane to you, and then fuck you until you’re begging me to come—” he lowered his voice to a menacing whisper, “but you will not be allowed to. At all.”
A throaty moan was his reply, and he smiled to himself, gratified by her reaction to him.
“Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. Then you may stand.” He helped her off his lap until she stood naked before him, suddenly shy, her gaze fixed on her feet. Fetching a towel, he wrapped it around her before pulling her close and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “Is everything all right?” he said at length, when no reaction seemed forthcoming.
“Yes, Sir.”
She sounded carefully composed again, and he wondered whether it was only in the throes of orgasm or pain that she let herself go.
“Let’s go into the bedroom.” Taking her hand, he led her out of the bathroom and over to the bed, where he settled her beside him, marveling at the way her body fitted so perfectly against his as he drew her into his arms.
“Talk to me,” he said when there was still nothing but awkward silence.
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
“How was that for you?”
“Which part?” She was lying with her back to him and he was spooning her, but he could hear the smile in her voice.
“All of it.”
“I liked it.”
“Good. Do you have a safeword you’d like to use, or are you happy with the traffic light system?”
“That’s fine.”
“What about what we discussed earlier? Are you going to at least try to keep your devices locked away for the remainder of your time here?”
There was a long, long pause. “I don’t know. I want to, I do, but I don’t think I can… Could we at least compromise? Make it once a day?”
“Turn over and face me,” he ordered gently, relieved when she obeyed immediately. Then, once he could see her expression, he went on, “Honey, it’s plain as day that you need some downtime from your job. And you know it yourself, otherwise you wouldn’t have booked this vacation. I want to help you relax, I really do, but I can’t unless you work with me here.”
A torrent of emotions flickered across her face before she mumbled, “I guess I can try.”
“That’s all I’m asking you to do,” he said. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to go take a shower, and while I do that, you’re going to get dressed and open up your laptop to set up an out of office notification. Then we’re going to go grab a bite to eat before we go trick or treating.” Had he imagined it, or was there a flash of disappointment in her emerald gaze before she gave him a decidedly forced smile? “Is that okay with you?”
“Trick or treating? You know I’m not a Little…” she said.
“I know, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it. I want to spend some time to get to know you better, and I think the fresh air will do us both good. Besides, who doesn’t like candy?”
She rolled her eyes and grinned, and he felt an unidentifiable emotion coil in his gut.
“So, do we have a deal?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Then let’s get moving.”
As soon as she’d scrambled off the bed, still clutching the towel around her, he headed back into the bathroom and pulled the plug on the now tepid bathwater. Watching it swirl down the drain, he undressed slowly, wondering why this girl was having such an effect on him that he felt simultaneously desperate to help her, and the urge to fuck her until his dick was raw. Despite all her protests to the contrary, he had the keen sense that she had Little tendencies, and a part of him was hoping that going trick or treating might help her to see that for herself.
After all, he reflected as he switched on the shower and set the water to as cool as he could stand it, embracing her inner kid might be the key to helping her actually let go completely. Her constant, rigid control was admirable but it was also unhealthy. He wanted her to open up to him, to surrender…
…the way she had in the bath just a short time ago. Christ, the expression on her gorgeous face when he’d made her come—
Fuck. You’re taking this cold shower to cool off, stop thinking about that , he reprimanded himself. She’s the guest. You can’t fuck her unless she invites you to. And there’s no saying that she will .
Soaping himself briskly, Landon wondered whether he’d be able to stand a whole six days in Nayla’s presence if she didn’t allow him into her bed. It had only been a few hours so far, and already he was climbing the walls with lust.
Dialing the pounding water a notch colder, he waited until his throbbing hard-on had subsided before stepping out, toweling himself off, and getting dressed. Once back in the bedroom, he was pleased to see Nayla was perched on the sofa, her legs crossed demurely, back in her Roman handmaiden dres
s and, most importantly, no laptop or phone in sight.
“All done?” he said.
“Yes, Sir. Out of office notification all set up, devices back in the suitcase.”
“Good girl. I’m proud of you.” He didn’t miss the way her face lit up when he said that. Holding out a hand, he waited for her to take it before pulling her close and whispering in her ear, “Keep it up, sweetie. You know good girls get rewarded.”
The breathy catch in her voice was unmistakable. “Yes, Sir.”
As he led her out of the room, Landon found himself wishing that, by the end of their time together, not only would she have learned to relax and let go, but that she’d also be addressing him differently. As Daddy .
Chapter 5
N ayla shuffled sheepishly alongside Landon, feeling as ridiculous in her outfit as any sensible, mature, thirty-something career woman might feel wearing an adult-sized unicorn onesie. Despite her vehement protests, however, Landon had not budged and insisted she wear it for their trick or treating venture. Nor had he agreed to compromise and wear one himself, although Nayla was sure she had seen several other big, burly men wandering around similarly attired.
She and Landon had spent quite some time in the cafeteria, making mostly small talk while enjoying some of the delicious food the Castle had to offer. She’d learned that he’d been married before but it hadn’t worked out, and he’d told her a little more about the accident which had forced him to give up his beloved job as a firefighter and come to work at the Castle instead.
For her part, Nayla had felt somewhat embarrassed by the fact that she didn’t really have anything to talk about—aside from her work, of course, and Landon had quickly quashed that as a potential dinner conversation subject. Due to her demanding schedule, she had no close friends to hang out with regularly, and she had moved far away from her family to join the prestigious accounting firm in New York City.
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