by Sionna Fox
“Okay.” I shivered as he kissed my neck. “You’re not mad that I’ve been, you know…?”
“Masturbating, little mouse? No. Why would I be?”
“That’s not a rule?”
“It is for some people, but it’s not ours. We haven’t talked about any rules for when we’re apart.”
“Oh.” It seemed ridiculous that I was still capable of blushing.
“That does make me think of an assignment to give you, though. You have a hard time talking about what you want, so you’re going to write it down. I want you to keep a journal. You’re going to write down what you fantasize about while you’re masturbating, and you’ll show it to me when we see each other. You can touch yourself and make yourself come as much as you want and need to when we’re apart, but you’re going to tell me about it. I’m also going to give you a ‘yes-no-maybe’ list. You’re going to fill it out completely and honestly by Saturday, as will I, and we’ll compare notes then. Understood?”
I whimpered while my blood warred in my body, trying to rush to my face and my pussy at the same time. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Is there anything else?” He scooted me off his lap and turned me to face him, all business again.
I stared at my thighs and fidgeted with a wrinkle in my pant leg. I wanted to ask him about other women, if he was doing this with anyone else, why he wanted to do this with me. But I didn’t want to give him any reasons to stop this yet. It was better to keep it to myself if I didn’t want to run him off. I took a deep breath and shook my head.
He kissed me between the eyes and pulled back. He scrubbed a large hand over his face and recovered himself. “I would like to take you into the bedroom. Stand at the foot of the bed and wait for me. I will take off your clothes. Then I’m going to put you over my knee and spank you before you suck my cock. Understood?”
I didn’t say a word, but sprang up and ran down the hall.
Chapter Nine
By the time he was done with me, my ass was bright red, and we were both so spent we barely made it into the bathroom to clean up and brush our teeth before we passed out. He let me be the big spoon. I fell asleep with my face pressed between his shoulders and the pillow, my breasts smooshed into his back, and a leg threaded between his thighs. I woke to the soft voices of public radio and Matthew gently stroking my skin.
“Wake up, little mouse,” he whispered, nuzzling my neck below my ear.
The endearment and the press of his nose to my tender, ticklish skin made the flock of birds in my chest do backflips. We’d swapped positions sometime in the night, and he was wrapped around me from behind with his hard cock pressed against my ass. I groaned and lifted my leg to wrap around him, pulling him between my naked thighs.
He hummed and stroked the back of my neck with his nose. “I should get you home.”
“You should do this first.” I arched my back, opening myself to him, making the invitation as clear as possible.
I felt decadent and wanton with his naked body pressed against mine, firm and angular where I was soft and round. He rolled away from me and I turned on my stomach. Through sleepy eyes I watched him roll a condom down over the hard, thick length of his cock. I slid a hand under my body to make lazy circles around my clit.
Condom in place, Matthew settled on top of me and enveloped me in his warm skin. His fingers brushed against mine as he positioned himself to enter me. He paused.
“Are you touching yourself, Jolene?” he asked in the voice that turned me into an unresisting puddle. His lips curled against the shell of my ear.
“Yes, sir.” I kept making circles, tighter and harder, not pulling away.
He nipped my shoulder. “Good girl.” He began a tortuously slow push into me. “Such a good girl, little mouse.”
His hips met my ass as he bottomed out. I wiggled against him, loving the feel of his pelvis against my soft flesh and the brush and tickle of the hair on his thighs and at the base of his cock. He draped himself over me, covering me like a blanket and tucked his arms around my ribs, under my breasts. I felt gloriously full and safe with Matthew wrapped around me, hips rocking slowly.
“I think we should call in sick,” he murmured into my hair as he started to thrust harder.
The thought of spending the day doing nothing but this made me shiver in delight. “I can’t.” I moaned as I raised my hips to meet his.
“I want to spend the day making you come.” He pulled his arms out from under me. He lifted his chest away from me and planted his hands on my hips. The low growl in his voice, the change in the angle of his cock and his large, hot hands holding me down at the waist went straight through me.
I wriggled against his grip as he fucked me harder. Every stroke of his cock ground me into the mattress and pressed my clit against the sheets. I barely recognized my own voice. I could feel my throat working to make sounds, but the whining, whimpering, high-pitched noises didn’t match up.
Matthew shifted a hand to rest on the back of my neck. “That’s it, little mouse. Come for me.” His ragged breath hitched. He snaked his fingers through my hair and pulled my head back. “Now, Jolene.”
I let out a long, shaky sob as I came all around him. I clamped down so hard I would have sworn I could feel every contour of his cock buried deep in my pussy. He let go with a shout and several hard thrusts as he emptied himself. He pulled out and rolled us onto our sides.
“You’re sure you can’t call out?”
I turned over, took his face in my hands, and kissed his gorgeous mouth. “I can’t.” I rubbed the tip of his nose with my own. “I’m probably going to be late as it is.” I sat up, and he scowled at me. “Not that I’m complaining.” I leaned over and kissed him again. “But I really have to go.”
He sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. My heart stuttered at the sight of him, spread out on his bed naked, with sex-rumpled hair and stubbled cheeks. “I’ll drive you home.” He got up and strode toward the bathroom in all his bare-assed glory.
I caught him at the door and wrapped my arms around him. “Thank you,” I said into his chest and kissed his flat, pink nipple.
“Don’t start, little mouse.” He laughed and patted my butt, still a little tender from the night before. “Get dressed.”
He drove me home, and I rushed to get back out of the house and into the office. Doug busted me trying to slip inconspicuously into my cubicle.
“You’re late, Jolene.” He frowned at his watch.
I had to remind myself that Doug had an impossible time keeping staff around, and he was probably more worried I had been at an early interview elsewhere than he was about my late arrival. If he’d been paying any attention, he would have realized there was nothing about my snarled hair, no makeup, and slightly mismatched clothes that said interview.
“I’m sorry. I overslept. It won’t happen again.” If overslept meant had hot morning sex with my boyfriend.
I half smiled, willing my face into something resembling contrite while the record scratched in my brain. Wait one fucking second, boyfriend? He’s not your boyfriend, you ass. Doug’s sad basset-hound face relaxed, relieved I wasn’t handing in my two weeks’ notice. He shuffled off and I sat down. I grabbed my phone and fired off a text to Matthew while my computer booted up.
Jolene: Should have stayed in bed.
He responded almost immediately.
Matthew: Now will you do as you’re told?
Jolene: Probably. Maybe. Most of the time. sir.
Matthew: You’ll do better than that.
Jolene: Or else?
Matthew: You know what else, little mouse.
That had me wriggling in my chair, pressing my thighs together, grinning like a loon.
Matthew: Now get to work, since you insisted you had to be there.
Jolene: Yes, sir.
I wagged like a happy puppy for a minute before I forced myself to settle down. I was at work. I could worry about my schmoopy feelings and about ca
lling Matthew my boyfriend in my head later. I was doing an absolutely terrible job of keeping this about sex. But damn if I didn’t want to skip around the office because I got laid that morning after I’d been spanked and fucked the night before. I was sleeping with a man who was stupidly gorgeous, smart, funny, kind, and controlling in a way that gave me all kinds of pants feels. And he wanted me. For now. Why shouldn’t I be happy?
I floated through the rest of the day, high on sex and whatever this thing was between me and Matthew. I might as well have called out; it wasn’t like I got anything done. I reminded myself I was supposed to be looking for another job, something better, more permanent. I would surf listings when I got home. I’d send out some resumes and applications again. I couldn’t lose sight of the fact that I was still broke and only on a contract, no matter how blissed out on sex I was.
Just as I was satisfied with my plan, Matthew sent me the checklist he’d mentioned last night, along with a reminder that I was supposed to be writing down all my dreams and fantasies for him. I made the mistake of opening the list. I hadn’t even skimmed half the page before my face burned and I slammed the phone facedown on the desk. It was going to torment me until I sat down and filled it out.
When I got home, I put on my softest, oldest pajamas—a bright pink top-and-bottom set with cartoon elephants, washed down to nearly falling apart. I printed the checklist and set it on the kitchen table while I puttered around making a quiche for dinner.
I glanced warily at the short stack of papers, wishing I wasn’t nervous about cataloging my sexual experiences and desires alone in my own apartment. I was debating whether to get it over with and fill them out while the quiche was in the oven, or if I should wait until I’d eaten something when the door buzzed. I figured it was Izzy and almost didn’t check before I hit the button to open it.
“I’m going to sew your keys to your forehead, Izzy.”
“Not if you don’t want to keep doing it. The skin is too thin to hold a piercing for long. Can I come up?”
I may have done a giddy happy dance, then thanked god he couldn’t see me. I hit the buzzer and said in the calmest voice I could muster, “Of course.”
I had the door open before he made it up the stairs. He stepped inside, kicked it closed behind him, and kissed me rather thoroughly. I pulled away to check on the quiche. Matthew took off his coat, slung it over the back of a chair, and made himself at home. He sat at the table, grinning at me.
“What on Earth are you wearing?”
“No making fun of the pink elephants.” I pointed sternly at him. If he wanted to see me in something other than pajamas, I needed advance notice. “Hungry?” I asked as I took a couple of plates from the cupboard. “I made a ham and cheese quiche, if you want some.”
“You look adorable, and quiche sounds good, thank you.” He got up from the table and stood behind me, pinning me to the counter as he put his arms around me and rubbed the tip of his nose up the column of my neck. I shivered as he planted a kiss behind my ear and took the dishes from my hands. “I’ll get this.”
Even though he’d only been in my kitchen once, Matthew moved surely, with a minimum of wasted motion, while he set the table. He paused and asked where to find a trivet or potholders, the silverware, napkins, rather than shuffling through the drawers until he found them. He gathered all the items on the counter, stacked them, and brought everything to the table in a single trip. I felt like a frantic, flapping creature by comparison, and all I had to do was get a single pie plate from the oven to the table.
I served us both before I sat down. We were quiet for the first few bites, though Matthew made appreciative murmurs. It was glorified scrambled eggs, and I hadn’t made it with him in mind, but it still pleased me to please him.
I waited until he was halfway through his slice before I asked, “Is there a reason you came by, or were you hoping to score some dinner?” I tried to keep my tone light and teasing.
“I do fine for dinner on my own, little mouse.”
“I know. So?”
“I wanted to see you.” He shrugged and took another bite.
He was matter-of-fact about it. A small, cynical part of me was annoyed he could drop by without a second thought. I certainly didn’t mind seeing him, but I would never in a million years have showed up at his door unannounced unless it was the direst of emergencies. And even then, I would torture myself wondering if I was overstepping my bounds.
“Oh,” was all that came out.
My confusion must have been obvious. He pulled his dark brows together. “I wanted to check on you after last night. I can go. If you had other plans, I can leave.” He set down his fork with a small clatter. I reached out and grabbed his wrist.
“No, stay. Sorry. I’m glad you came over.” Matthew’s body relaxed a fraction back into the chair. I continued on, still clutching his wrist. This whole thing was supposed to be centered on trust, wasn’t it? “You surprised me. You gave me the whole ‘I don’t want to be your boyfriend’ speech, but you keep showing up at my door. I wasn’t expecting this.”
He unclasped my hand and folded it in his own. “I know. I wasn’t expecting this either.” He lifted my palm to his mouth and kissed it.
“Oh.” He had an irritating knack for reducing my vocabulary to single syllables.
“If that’s not what you want…”
I put the fingers of my free hand over his mouth to keep him from finishing that sentence. “No. I do want. I like you. I like this.”
He sighed and his shoulders released from up around his ears. He put his hands around my neck at the base of my skull and planted a kiss on my lips. We finished our food in silence.
“What time does Izzy come home?” he asked while I was toying with the last bite on my plate.
“I have no idea.”
He stood and took my hand. “Then I think you’d better take me to your room and be very, very quiet.” He waggled his eyebrows at me as he pulled me to my feet.
“I should clean up first.” I bit my lip and glanced back at our plates and the leftover quiche sitting on the table as he pulled me toward the bedrooms.
“Later.”
“Yes, sir.”
I let Matthew into my room. It was small, but I didn’t have much to fill it. The queen-sized bed took up much of the space, along with a battered thrift store dresser and a bookshelf crammed to bursting.
He shut the door and pulled me to his chest in the dim light cast by the streetlamp outside my window. He kissed me softly, slowly backing me into the room and against my bed before he lay me down on my fluffy comforter. I reached for the lamp, but he stopped my hand, looming over me in the orange-pink gleam of the sodium-vapor bulb outside.
“Your skin looks beautiful in this light.” He tugged my shirt over my head. “I want to see all of you glowing like this.”
I lifted my hips to help him shimmy my pants and underwear down my legs. He leaned over my naked body. The tails of his untucked dress shirt brushed my belly and his trousers played against my thighs. He ran his fingers softly over my skin, tracing lines between my freckles.
“Scoot up and turn over, Jolene.” His command promised something dark, and I went liquid as I scurried into the middle of the bed and turned on my stomach. “Press your face into the pillow. Keep your arms above your head. No peeking.”
I buzzed, my whole body tensed and waiting.
“Settle down, little mouse. Breathe slowly for me, in and out. Relax.”
I focused on my breath while he ran his large, warm palms over my skin, soothing me like a frightened animal. When I had settled to his liking, he took his hands away.
With my vision cut off by the pillow, my ears perked up, searching for clues to what Matthew was planning. Fabric rustled, his shirt and undershirt landed on the floor with a soft sound as he pressed the length of his bare chest to my back. His belt buckle dug into my ass, giving me an inkling of what was in store. Matthew did nothing by accident. I was sure
he wanted me to be aware of that belt.
He lifted away from me after a minute, and I waited for the sound of metal on metal as he unbuckled, eager for what I was sure would come. My body hummed with anticipation. I focused on my breath as I clenched and unclenched my fists. Leather brushed the backs of my thighs, the belt still warm from being close to Matthew’s body all day. My toes curled.
“I think you know what this is, Jolene.”
“Yes, sir.” I wiggled my butt, waving the red cape at the bull. I couldn’t help it.
He tapped my ass with it. “Enough, Jolene.”
I was going to be sore the next morning from the sheer effort of keeping still for him. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
I wanted to wag my tail with the joy of being a good girl, but I didn’t. For him.
“I intend to use this to turn that lovely, wiggly, round ass of yours a nice, warm shade of red. You will hold still, you will use the pillow to muffle any noise, and you will keep your hands above your head. Understood?”
I nodded into the pillow.
“The words, Jolene. I need to hear them.”
I craned my neck to look him in the eyes. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. What do you do if you need me to slow down or stop?”
“I say yellow to slow down or red to stop. Or I tell you to slow down or stop or goddammit, motherfucker, that hurts.”
“It’s going to hurt, Jolene. You know that, right?”
“Yes, sir.” I knew it. I wanted it. I couldn’t wait much longer for it.
“Do you want this? This is going to be different than my hand.”
He was giving me so many chances to chicken out, but I had to know. Maybe I would tell him to stop after the first strike. But after the spanking the night before, I had a feeling it was going to take a lot more than that to make me want to stop.
“Yes, sir. I do. Please.” I turned my face back into the pillow, fisted my hands above my head, and willed my body into stillness. He kissed me between the shoulder blades. The mattress dipped and shifted as he got up. The belt snapped on itself and a rush of arousal shot through me right down to my toes.