Healing Fears (Smokey Mountain Book 3)

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Healing Fears (Smokey Mountain Book 3) Page 5

by Stella Moore


  Whatever she’d expected him to say, that wasn’t it. “What do you mean?”

  “Look, Elisa. The reason I have rules for you is to give you structure, so you can be the incredible person I know you’re capable of being. But if you’re feeling smothered, or it’s stressing you out to the point you’re thinking you can’t be with me, it’s time to reassess. I love you, and I want you to be happy.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course, baby. So, tell me what we can do to make this work.”

  She studied him, wondering if maybe this was some kind of test. But Paul had never played games with her, and she didn’t think he’d start now. “Can we just ditch all the rules and punishments?” she asked hopefully.

  He grinned and tugged at her hair. “No. But we can modify them. What’s stressing you out?”

  “Right now? The thing with my assignments. I just… I feel like I need to learn how to balance my workload on my own, and I want to feel like I can take a break without worrying that you’re going to be mad.”

  Paul nodded. “Okay. I can understand that. How about this: I’ll back off, but if your grades suffer because you’re not putting the work in, you’ll be over my knee in a flash. Fair?”

  Elisa nodded, relieved beyond belief that he was taking this all so well. She’d figured it was a ‘my way or the highway’ deal, and it was nice to know she had some say in it. “What about the parties?”

  He frowned and shook his head. “No compromise there, Elisa. That’s a safety issue and I will never compromise on your safety. Anything else?”

  “I guess not.”

  “From now on, if you think I’m being too overbearing or controlling, come talk to me. Don’t sneak around behind my back. Got it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think you mean, Yes, sir.”

  Her head snapped up and she gawked at him for a long moment. “You’re not serious.”

  “As a heart attack. Say it, Elisa.”

  “No way! You’re not my dad, Paul. You’re three years older than me.”

  His hand reached out to grip her chin, and he forced her to look at him. His eyes were hard and serious, as they often were when she was in trouble. “Does that matter, young lady?”

  There was a part of her mind screaming at her to buck him. Fight back, never give in. But there was that other part, the part that longed to submit to him that overrode everything else in that moment. “No, sir,” she whispered.

  “Good girl.” Her heart thrilled at the words, even as her mind rebelled. She wasn’t a dog, for fuck’s sake. But oh, God, how she loved hearing that praise on his lips. “Now, are you going to talk to me when you have an issue with a rule I’ve given you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  His lips curved up, full of pride. “Good. Now we can get your punishment over with and head home.”

  Tears filled her eyes at his pronouncement. “But I thought you were backing off.”

  “I am. But the fact remains that you went behind my back. That’s what you’re going to be punished for tonight. Stay here until I come for you.”

  “Where the hell am I going to go, Paul? We’re out in the middle of bumfuck Tennessee. Pretty sure I hear banjo music.”

  “That’s an extra five for your language. I swear you have the filthiest mouth of any woman I’ve ever known.”

  She smiled, slow and sexy. “You don’t mind my dirty mouth when it’s wrapped around your cock.”

  “Just stay in the truck.”

  He was trying to be stern, but she heard the laughter in his voice. She watched as he climbed down out of the truck—taking the keys with him, damn him—and disappeared into the woods. Curious, and somewhat concerned for his safety, she watched the spot where he’d walked through the trees until he emerged again, carrying a bundle of twigs. Her heart sank to her knees. While she’d never been on the receiving end of one, it was impossible to grow up in the south without hearing horror stories about the dreaded switch.

  Her door opened and he held a hand out for her. It somehow never seemed odd that he could be so chivalrous and caring even when he was about to blister her ass. Taking the offered hand, she stepped down out of the truck, resisting the urge to whimper when the door shut ominously behind her.

  “Pants and panties down, and put your hands on the truck.”

  “But Paul.” She hated the whine in her voice, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

  “Now, Elisa.”

  Pouting, she unsnapped her jeans and pushed them, and her panties, to her knees before leaning over and pressing her hands against the warm metal of the truck door.

  “If you move, it’s an extra five on your thighs. Got it?”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she mumbled, then squealed when a line of fire ignited just above her knees.

  “Try again, young lady.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  She heard the slight swoosh of the switch cutting through the air, seconds before a second line of fire came to life across her bottom. “Ouch! Paul, it hurts!”

  His response came in the form of a third stripe, just a bit higher than the last. Elisa stomped her foot and wiggled her backside in an attempt to relieve the pain.

  “Still.”

  “But it hurts!”

  “It’s supposed to. Now stay still.” He followed up the order with two more stripes across her ass. Elisa squealed and fisted her hands against the truck, but managed to stay in place.

  “What are you going to do the next time you have an issue with one of my rules?” Another three stripes of pure agony.

  “Talk to you! Please, stop!”

  “Not yet. Are you going to go behind my back and disobey me again?” Three stripes again, on the lowest, fullest part of her bottom.

  “No, sir. I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, her breath hitching in her chest as he switched her again. Her entire backside felt like she’d been stung by a thousand bees and she swore to herself she’d never do anything to earn that kind of a punishment again.

  “Good. Almost done, baby.” The switch snapped against her flesh again, and she howled at the fresh pain layering over the fire he’d already laid down. She lost count of the individual stripes, the pain melding together as he mercilessly striped her with the thin, whippy branch.

  When she leaned against the door, sobbing, he paused to rub her back. “Last five. I’m so proud of you, baby.”

  His words bolstered her, and she nodded, gritting her teeth in anticipation of the final five. He laid them down across the tops of her thighs and she screeched through her teeth with each one.

  When it was done, he gathered her into his arms, lifting her easily and cradling her to his chest as he climbed back into the truck. She curled into him as she cried, the storm of emotions she usually kept at bay raging through her, leaving her weak and empty by the time she finished.

  “Sorry I blubbered all over you,” she mumbled into his neck when the storm had run its course.

  Paul laughed and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I love you.”

  “I love you back. Are we okay?”

  “Always. Ready to head back?”

  “Five more minutes?” Knowing he’d humor her, she snuggled into his embrace and promptly fell asleep.

  When she woke again, Paul was parking the truck in the parking lot of the school. Momentarily forgetting the burning in her bottom, Elisa stretched, then let out a groan when her backside pressed into the seat.

  “Was it necessary to take several layers of skin off my ass?” she asked, grinning when he raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m kidding!”

  “Brat,” he said, pulling her to him for a long, smoldering kiss.

  Elisa leaned into the kiss, humming with pleasure. “You know, this parking lot is pretty dark. We could just…” she let the words trail off as she ran a hand up his thigh.

  In a flash, he slid across the seat and lifted her, laughing, to straddle him. This, Elisa thought, was worth every stripe he’d gi
ven her.

  Chapter 8

  The night before her graduation, they managed to slip away from their families after dinner. Paul drove them out to ‘their spot’ and parked on the side of the road. He sat for a moment, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, silently staring out the windshield. Elisa waited several heartbeats for him to speak, growing increasingly nervous the longer they sat in silence. Finally, she couldn’t take it another second.

  “Paul? You okay, babe?”

  He jumped a bit at the sound of his name and sent her what she was sure was meant to be a reassuring smile.

  She was not reassured.

  “Yeah. Let’s get out for a minute. I want to show you something.” Without waiting for her reply, he exited the truck and jogged around to the passenger side.

  “You’re acting super weird, Paul. I mean, you’re a little bit of an odd duck anyway, but you’re kind of freaking me out.” She’d hoped to make him laugh, but he barely smiled as he grabbed her hand and led her into the woods. “Where are we going? Why are we in the… oh,” the word was a sigh on her lips as she took in the picture before her.

  They’d arrived at a little clearing in the woods, where a picnic of sorts was laid out. There was a blanket, and a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice. Beside the bucket were two flutes and a box of her favorite chocolates. Christmas lights, powered by some kind of generator, were strung between the trees. It was like a scene out of a fairytale. Paul tugged her towards the blanket, where he dropped to one knee and held out a small, velvet box.

  And there went her heart again, thump, thump, thump.

  “Elisa Marie Hawthorne.” For once, she didn’t mind hearing her full name. She grinned down at him as he flipped open the lid on the little black box. The diamond glittered in the soft, romantic light, surrounded by at least a dozen small rubies. The setting looked old, and she wondered fleetingly if it was an antique of some kind. “You are the only woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Will you marry me?”

  “I can’t believe you’re asking me and not telling me,” Elisa teased. “Of course I’ll marry you. You’ll just nag me until I agree anyway.”

  Paul slipped the ring on her finger, then jumped to his feet and swung her up into his arms, spinning them both in a circle as she laughed. “I don’t nag. But we would have had a very long discussion about it before I took no for an answer,” Paul said.

  “Mmm. Maybe you can show me how much you appreciate me saying yes, instead?”

  “Definitely.” Still holding her up off the ground, he lowered his lips to hers in a kiss so achingly tender it brought tears to her eyes. Setting her on her feet, he reached behind her, watching her as he slowly lowered the zipper on the back of her sundress. Her breath caught in her throat when he slipped the straps off her shoulders, then pressed his lips to her now bare skin.

  Impatient, as always, she pressed herself against him but he simply chuckled and pulled away. “Are you ever going to learn you’re not in control when we’re together?”

  She grinned up at him. “I guess I need to be reminded sometimes.”

  “That I can definitely do. Stand still, arms at your sides.”

  Sometimes it was hard to reconcile her sweet, laid back boyfriend—fiancé—with the strict, no nonsense lover and disciplinarian. But she loved all the different sides of him, the way they came together to make up the whole. Dropping her arms to her sides, she stood still and quiet, watching as he loosened the tie he’d worn to dinner. She pressed her thighs together in a vain attempt to relieve the throbbing between them.

  “Take the dress off.”

  Eager to obey, Elisa pulled her arms out of the straps and let the dress fall to the ground at her feet. The flare of desire in his eyes went straight to her pussy and she felt her arousal pool in her panties.

  “Tsk tsk. My little bird left the house without a bra.”

  Heat flushed her cheeks and she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. “I’m sorry, sir. I won’t do it again.”

  “It’s a little late for sorry now, isn’t it? Hands.”

  She knew the drill by now, and so she held her arms out in front of her with her wrists pressed together as he wrapped the tie around her wrists. When she was bound, he reached out and tweaked one of her nipples, hard enough to make her cry out in protest. Apparently satisfied with this punishment, he gave the other the same treatment.

  “Lie down, on your back.”

  It was a struggle with her hands bound, but she’d realized a while ago that he enjoyed watching her obey him, especially when he’d made it difficult for her to do so. So she took her time, first sinking to her knees and smiling up at him, thrilled by the bulge straining the zipper of his dress pants. When she was finally positioned as he’d instructed, he shoved open her thighs so he could kneel between them. Running his hands up her legs, he lowered his head and pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to her panties.

  The throbbing became an ache and though she knew she could stand far more, she lifted her hips in hopes he’d take mercy on her. Her hubris earned her a sharp slap to the inside of one thigh. “Still,” he ordered sharply, and she instantly obeyed.

  He sat back and their eyes locked as he reached for her panties. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life reminding you who’s in charge. You will not come unless I give you permission. You will come when I tell you, as often as I tell you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered. There was no other answer she could give. By now, obeying him, in and out of the bedroom, was as natural to her as breathing. She couldn’t imagine a life where he didn’t hold the reins.

  “Good.” Sliding her panties off, he reached behind him and grabbed the bottle of champagne. Grinning down at her, he popped the cork. Grabbing the tie that bound her wrists, he pulled her up to a sitting position. “Open.”

  Understanding what he wanted, she tilted her head back and parted her lips so he could pour the champagne into her mouth. The bubbles tickled her nose, and she moaned at the tart flavor of her favorite label. When she’d swallowed, he fisted a hand in her hair and pulled her to him for a hard, hot kiss that made her head swim more than a bucket of champagne.

  He pushed her back down to the blanket. “Arms over your head.” She readily complied, then gasped when the icy liquid splashed over her breasts and down her flat, taut stomach. Paul set the bottle to the side, lowering his head to lick the champagne from her skin.

  “Who needs flutes?” she asked, her voice low and breathy. She felt his chuckle as he licked his way down her torso, to her recently waxed pussy. He traced his tongue down the slick folds, and it took every ounce of willpower she had left to stay still.

  “Good girl,” he murmured, his breath hot against her already burning skin. Placing a hand on each of her knees, he shoved her legs open as wide as they could go before burying his face in her wet heat. She arched up when he sucked her clit, bringing her as close as he could to the pleasure she so desperately sought before he backed off again.

  She sobbed when his tongue flicked gently against her swollen, throbbing nub. “Please, sir. Please.”

  He lifted his head, and she didn’t have to look to know his eyes would be hard and filled with hunger and authority. “Who do you belong to, little bird?”

  “You, sir. All of me belongs to you.”

  “Good girl. Come for me.” He bent his head again, sucking hard on her aching clit and she flew up and over that peak of pleasure with a scream, bucking her hips against his mouth as he continued to feast. The onslaught continued, and before she could catch her breath, a second earth-shattering orgasm ripped through her, leaving her weakened and pliant when he slid into her.

  He kissed her and she tasted herself on his lips as he drove into her, branding her with his cock. “Again,” he panted when he broke the kiss, reaching between them to where their bodies joined.

  Elisa shook her head, sobbing at the pleasure that was so intense it was pain. �
�I can’t. It hurts. Please.”

  “You will,” his chest vibrated against hers with the low rumble of his voice. “For me. With me.”

  She could no more deny him than she could will herself to stop breathing. Surrendering to it, to him, she let go as they tumbled over the edge of sanity together.

  It was several long minutes before either of them recovered enough to speak. Elisa, as usual, spoke first.

  “So, when are we getting hitched?”

  Paul laughed. It was so like her to cut right to the heart of the matter. “I’d like it to be sooner rather than later, but we can take our time if you want.”

  “Let’s do it this weekend.” The excitement in her voice was infectious, and he grinned down at her. Apparently, she didn’t want to take her time. Which wasn’t at all a surprise.

  “No. I want a real wedding. I want to watch you walk down in the aisle in a white dress in front of our friends and family.”

  She wrinkled her nose, and he laughed again as he lifted her to straddle his hips. He wanted her again, but then, it seemed like he always wanted her. “It won’t be that bad. Just think of the cake.”

  Her eyes lit up as he’d known they would at the mention of sweets. “I do like cake,” she said, tapping her fingers thoughtfully against his chest. “Is a month long enough?”

  He laughed again, gripping her hips to guide her down onto his cock. He loved the little mewling sound of pleasure she gave when he filled her. “A year. Less than that and our mothers will kill us. Deal?”

  When she pouted, he swatted her bottom playfully. “Don’t pout, little bird. It’ll be here before we know it. Be patient.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said with a sigh as she began rocking her hips against his.

  “Good girl,” he said, and set about showing her how much fun being patient could be.

  Chapter 9

  Six months later, they were lying in bed when Elisa dropped a bombshell on him out of nowhere. “By the way, I’m going to Caged with Penny this weekend.”

 

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