by Renee Rose
He didn’t continue to spank her though, nor did he leave. He settled beside her on his back, his fingers knit behind his head, looking up at the ceiling.
She would take what she could. Curling against his body, she tucked her face against his side and closed her eyes, praying he’d find it in his heart to forgive her.
* * *
Ashley radiated anxiety. It sent his shifter instincts haywire to feel his mate’s stress, and yet he couldn’t manage to change his own emotions, which largely seemed dead. He’d returned to the way he’d been before he met her—the ‘Stone man’ who lacked emotion, fired people at will, and never smiled. He took her hand in the elevator, making an attempt to soothe her.
She looked up at him with her big blue eyes, the pleading quality twisting his heart. The elevator stopped and the doors slid open for other employees to get on. Ashley moved to pull her hand away, but he held it fast, tugging her slightly behind him to hide their clasp. He did not release her until they reached the top floor and they parted without speaking. He’d never been a man of many words, but even to him, the silence seemed strange. The gulf between just seemed to grow with each passing moment.
He wasn’t angry. Betrayed, yes, and he felt like an idiot for the months he’d thought they were trying to conceive a child while she’d been taking the pill. The lack of trust between them devastated him. He wasn’t the type to trust or love easily, but when he’d taken Ashley as his mate, he’d thought he’d turned a corner. Now, he could practically feel his old walls re-erecting themselves around his heart.
Worse, he couldn’t stop thinking about Ashley’s fear of him. Maybe mating with a human couldn’t work. The difference in their physical abilities would always separate them. Shifters have a pack order. Dominance is established and maintained with physical expressions. Males resolve problems with other males with a fight. They resolve problems with a female by spanking. Ashley hadn’t minded it—hell, she loved it when he flexed his authority, but even so, she must worry he’d lose control as he had when he’d marked her, causing her real injury and harm.
He didn’t hear from her until lunchtime, when she tapped on his door and entered. Usually her smile and her presence brightened his days. Today, she looked diminished, almost shy—which didn’t fit her outgoing personality. He hated seeing her that way.
“Do you want to get lunch? Or, um, do you want me to get you something?”
He didn’t want to go to lunch with her. Just seeing her pained him. “Bring me a sandwich,” he said, not meaning to sound so curt.
She ducked her head and nodded, leaving without a word.
Damn. Why did he have such a talent at making things worse?
She brought him the sandwich, and he ate alone at his desk. He poured himself into financial reports for the rest of the day, not surfacing until six o’clock, when he closed up his office and found Ashley slumped in her chair, staring at her computer screen.
“You ready?” he asked.
She looked disappointed, as if she’d hoped he would say something else. But what was there to say?
They walked in silence to the elevator. Once inside, he put an arm around her and pulled her to his side, where she melted against him. He bent to kiss the top of her head.
She lifted her eyes. “Are we okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, but they both knew it was a lie.
At home, she went to the kitchen and began to reheat the dinner she’d made for them the night before. He took off his jacket and tie and unbuttoned his shirt at the collar. From the kitchen, he smelled steak, but also the salty smell of Ashley’s tears.
Nothing subdues a shifter more than the scent of his mate’s anguish. Damn. He walked into the kitchen to find Ashley facing the stove, her shoulders hunched and tears running down her face.
“Hey,” he said softly, turning her around. “Enough.” He wiped the tears from her face. “That’s not helping anything.”
“What will?” she asked, her voice rising to the pitch of desperation. “Because I can’t stand this living with a stranger thing we have going at the moment. Why won’t you just yell at me? Or punish me? Aren’t you the alpha around here?” She gave him an ineffectual shove, her face screwed up into a little ball of fury.
“Enough,” he said, lacing his voice with the hard edge of authority.
“Is it?” She slapped his chest with the palm of her hand.
Even knowing she meant to goad him into it, he responded instinctively, as any dominant wolf did when challenged, catching her wrist and spinning her around to pin it behind her back. He delivered the first swat before he had a chance to think.
He stopped, inhaling deeply. He didn’t want this. If she feared him, spanking her didn’t help. But then she’d practically begged him for it. Maybe she needed it, to assuage her guilt. She certainly wasn’t fighting him now, standing perfectly still, her head bent forward so her thick hair curtained her face.
He released her and turned her to face the living room. “Take off your clothes and kneel in the corner over there,” he said, pointing to the one near the couch.
She moved immediately, not meeting his eye, her head still bowed submissively.
He remained where he was, conflicted. It was too late to change his mind, of course. But what if punishing her only made things worse between them? He shut off the oven, leaving the steaks inside to stay warm.
When he turned, Ashley had taken her position. He caught his breath at the sight—her long reddish-brown hair falling down her back, the flare of her hips and, of course, her perfect ass, settled between her heels where she knelt. His cock forgot his reluctance to punish her, pressing eagerly against his trousers.
He walked over to the couch and sat down. “Come, Ashley.”
“Woof,” she said, barely louder than a whisper, wringing a half-smile from him. It had been her joke since the day he interviewed her and had told her to sit. He hadn’t laughed then, and yet she’d persisted, just as she’d persevered despite his repeated rejections of her affection.
She walked to stand in front of him, her chin dropped, hands clasped behind her back.
“Why am I punishing you?”
“For—” She cleared her throat. “For lying.”
He waited.
“—sir,” she added.
He said nothing, keeping his face blank.
She nibbled her lip. “I should have known you would listen to and value my feelings on the matter. You always have.”
Her words came as a relief to him.
“Ben?”
He raised an eyebrow expectantly.
“Would you make me stay home with the kids?”
He grabbed her waist and pulled her to sit on his lap. “Make you?” he asked. “Is that how you think things work around here?”
She fidgeted with her hands.
Taking her chin, he lifted her face to his.
“I don’t know. It’s just—your sister-in-law…”
“That’s what Shayla wanted. She never had an interest in getting involved with Leon’s company; that’s why he left it to me. Shayla wanted to be well cared for, so she could devote herself to her children.” He studied Ashley’s blue eyes. “Did you think it was a shifter thing? Is that what this is about?”
She shrugged. “Well, it’s part of my fear. But also I’m just not ready.”
He nodded slowly. “Look, I know I’ve been an asshole. I ran Stone Tech like a dictator, and it was my way or the highway. But with you—” He broke off, his throat closing with emotion. “You expected more of me, you believed I had a heart. With you, I thought I’d changed.”
Ashley’s lip trembled.
“Don’t make me into that guy again. Do you really think I’d make you do anything that made you unhappy?”
A tear spilled down her cheek and he thumbed it away. “No. I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m really sorry.”
* * *
Ben lifted her from his lap, deftly turning her f
ace down over it, her bare bottom angled perfectly for his punishment. Goosebumps raised on her flesh. She reached for one of the throw pillows, wrapping her arms around it. The first few spanks stung the worst, the shock so much more than what she expected.
She realized how much he held back when he spanked her in fun, because each slap of his hand connected now with force enough to make her lose her breath. She meant to hold still, but found herself twisting and bucking, trying to wriggle her way off his lap. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“Do not kick or I’ll take off my belt,” he warned.
She crossed her ankles, squeezing them together to keep from kicking. The warning actually came as a relief—it meant he hadn’t planned on using the belt later. Not that it mattered at the moment, his hand was doing enough damage. It came raining down swift and hard, first one cheek, then the other, then square in the middle.
She clamped her lips together to keep from crying out as he spanked her over and over again. She buried her head in the couch cushions, biting at the fabric. “Ow… please,” she found herself begging, despite her resolve to take it like a good girl.
Firm smacks continued to fall, the burn setting in from the previous ones making it all the worse.
“Ben… oh! Please,” she whimpered, her cheeks throbbing now as he continued to spank her ceaselessly.
He stopped, resting his hand on her heated flesh. “How many months did you let me believe we were trying to conceive a child, Ashley?”
She cringed, her shame worse than the pain. “Five months,” she mumbled into the sofa.
“How many?” he asked sharply.
She turned her head to speak. “Five, sir.”
He began to spank her again, just as hard and fast as before.
She moaned and squirmed, reaching back to try to rub.
He caught her wrist and bent it behind her back. “You know better than that, little girl,” he said in his most stern and disapproving tone.
She hunched her shoulders against the agonizing smacks. “I’m sor-ry,” she wailed.
Thankfully, he stopped again. “Five months of deceit deserves five spankings, don’t you think?”
“Tonight?” she asked, suddenly terrified.
He chuckled. “Not tonight.”
“When?”
“When I decide.”
He lifted her to her feet and she cupped her flaming ass. “This spanking isn’t done,” he warned. “Go stand in the corner while I get something from the kitchen.”
She walked to the corner, trying to rub away the burn.
“No rubbing,” Ben called from the kitchen. “Interlace your fingers on top of your head.”
She sighed and obeyed, feeling like a very naughty girl who had already been well chastised. What more did he plan to do?
She listened to the sounds of him rummaging in the kitchen and then his return to the living room. His footsteps sounded behind her.
“Bend over and grab your ankles,” he said, tugging her hips backward to give her room to fold.
She swallowed, her mouth dry.
He waited for her to comply, watching her slowly bending at the waist and reaching toward the floor. The stretching of her ass only made the throbbing worse. He pressed something slick and cool against her anus and she jerked, trying to clamp her cheeks closed. The position kept her spread to him, though, and he pushed more insistently, until she relaxed and allowed it in.
“You may stand up now,” he said, wiggling the object inside her. Turning her hips, he used the intrusive object to propel her forward, until she reached the arm of the sofa. “Bend over,” he said, pressing her torso down. “This is ginger,” he said. “You’re going to keep it in for the remainder of your spanking. I’m going to make sure your bottom burns on the outside and in,” he said.
She tried to erect herself, craning her neck around to look, but Ben pushed her back down and held her in place.
“If you’re a good girl, I will finish this spanking with my hand,” he said. “That means no reaching and no kicking. If you’re naughty, I will take off my belt and spank you until you scream. Understand?”
Her heart thundered in her chest. “Yes, sir,” she whispered, her pussy clenching despite her fear.
His fist wrapped in her hair and he tugged her head back. “You like it when I punish you,” he growled in her ear, probably smelling the scent of her arousal.
Her nipples hardened. The roughness in his voice gave away his desire for her. Her wolf had returned from whatever cold place he’d retreated.
“I don’t like it,” she said, which was a half-truth.
He pulled her hair back again. “Yes, you do.”
“I don’t like disappointing you.” That was all true.
His teeth closed lightly on her shoulder, then released—a love bite.
She became aware of a burning from the ginger and she moaned. “It burns.”
He released her hair and pushed her back down. “It’s supposed to burn. I’m teaching you a lesson, little girl. Do you lie to me?”
“No, sir,” she said, gulping as he began to spank her again, just as hard as he had before. This time, her ass was already sore and now her anus burned as well. She tightened around it, which only made it worse.
Ben spanked and spanked, merciless in his punishment as she lay helplessly sprawled over the arm of the sofa with a stick of ginger in her ass. Her entire body grew hot from the root, and she began to sweat. Her pussy swelled between her legs, heating along with her entire pelvis, arousal dripping down her legs.
“Oh, it burns… it burns,” she moaned. Every time she shifted or squeezed, she incited a fresh bloom of agony from the ginger root. That, combined with the pain of his seemingly endless spanking seemed more than she could bear. “Ben,” she whimpered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll be a good girl,” she pleaded. “I’ll never lie again. Please don’t spank me, please don’t—”
“Shh.” The spanking stopped. Ben slid a finger between her legs, over her glossy slit.
“Please take it out,” she begged.
“No,” he said. “I’m going to fuck you with it in.”
Her pussy clenched, eager for any activity he wanted to give her.
His finger had found her clit, circling the sensitive nub.
She heard his zipper and spread her legs, arching her back.
He pushed the ginger in deeper, creating a fresh zing of torturous burn and gave her bottom several more smacks. “You may not come,” he said at the same time he stretched her wide with his thick cock.
“What?” she asked, confused.
“You heard me, little girl. You were naughty and are being punished. I don’t think you deserve to come tonight.”
She couldn’t believe it. Not coming would be an impossibility. She’d almost just come from him saying he was going to fuck her. And yet, disobeying him, tonight of all nights, seemed out of the question.
“Ben,” she whimpered. “Please… I need to come.”
He slid his cock in and out of her, shoving the ginger deeper with each in-stroke. The burning was unbearable and her need so great she thought she’d explode.
“No.”
He gripped her waist and picked up speed, pumping harder.
She surrendered, offering herself up to him, trying to forget about the pain and her mounting desperation to come.
* * *
Ben buried himself deep inside Ashley, his release pouring out. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, lifting her torso and nuzzling at her neck. He’d been a fool. Ashley had been right, as usual. A spanking did fix everything. Or at least it had brought them back together, to face their challenges as a couple, rather than two islands drifting apart.
He cupped her breasts in his hands, rolling his thumbs over her nipples.
She moaned wantonly.
He eased out of her and pulled the ginger finger from her ass. “Don’t get dressed,” he murmured in her
ear. “I want you to serve me dinner just as you are.”
She turned in his arms, resting her hands on his chest and looking up at him shyly.
He bent to kiss her, claiming her mouth with great authority, sliding his tongue between her lips, showing her with action what he had trouble expressing.
When they broke apart, he saw her relief. She understood she’d been forgiven and that all was right between them. He stepped back to allow her passage. “Go on,” he said, giving her reddened ass a slap as she turned toward the kitchen.
He raised the temperature on the thermostat so she wouldn’t get cold prancing around their kitchen in the nude and settled in a chair to watch, his cock already forgetting its recent release.
Ashley’s hands slid over her swollen cheeks, circling and rubbing away the sting. He hoped he hadn’t spanked hard enough to leave marks. As reluctant as he’d been to begin with, once he started spanking, his emotions had cleared. Her willingness to accept his displeasure in that form eased all his discontent, leaving him in appreciation of her beautiful submission.
Now, as she dished salads onto their plates and pulled steaks and quinoa out of the oven, her eyes were bright with unspent desire, face still flushed. She darted glances at him under her lashes, sending a fresh shot of lust kicking through him every time.
“It’s ready,” she murmured, turning to face him.
He gave her a lazy grin and unfolded himself from the chair, walking to the table. “Gracias, mi amor.”
She set the plates down at their separate places, but before she could sit, he grasped her waist and tugged her down to sit on his lap. She flinched a little at the contact of her chafed bottom with his pants, but then snuggled in.
“You eat here tonight.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding pleased.
He picked up his knife and cut her a piece of steak, which had turned slightly dry from being reheated.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It was better yesterday.”