by Measha Stone
“I want a full evening with you, in private, my home preferably. As for activities, I’m not into very heavy play. Mostly impact play, spankings with my hand, my belt. I have a few paddles if needed for a naughty girl. I want a woman who enjoys submission and agrees to being punished when she’s bad.”
Her entire lower lip disappeared into her mouth.
He reached out and pulled it free with his thumb. “I want someone to follow my rules to the letter and accept a bare bottom spanking if she fails.” Images of her lying over his lap with a blushing ass popped into his head.
If her pupils dilated much more, he wouldn’t be able to make out the coloring of her irises.
“I wasn’t planning on taking a contract for more than a few hours this evening, in one of the private suites upstairs,” she finally said.
“If that’s what you’re comfortable with.” He nodded and flicked his attention over her shoulder to her handler. “Can you have the contract drawn up?”
“You’re okay with staying here?” she asked with surprise.
“Most men here wouldn’t be, well, probably all of them, actually.” He looked around at the pool of drooling clients. “A party contract is costly.”
Her gaze flittered away from him. “And once we’re upstairs? Then what will you do?” She tried to hide the nervousness, but he saw straight through it. He didn’t doubt she’d worked in this line of employ before, but he did doubt she had anywhere near the experience that would lead her to be qualified to work in the Annex. Another truth he’d soon sort out.
“We’re going to talk mostly and, depending on your answers, I’ll decide what happens next.”
Her eyes settled back on him, and that damn lip disappeared again. He pulled it out once more and ran his thumb over it, smearing the deep-red lipstick.
“What does that mean?”
“It means if you’re a good girl and tell me all truths, you’ll have a very, very good time with me. But if you’re naughty. If you lie, even a little, you’ll go to bed tonight with a raw, burning bottom.”
He looked at his thumb, at the red lipstick staining his finger. First thing, she’d be washing off the damn makeup.
“Either way, you’re getting a spanking.”
Chapter 3
Damien Simon was going to spank her. The buttons were too tight on her damn dress. She couldn’t get enough air, and her heart beat too hard.
To say she’d had a crush on him in high school would be a complete understatement. She’d adored him. She’d had his class schedule memorized and looked for him in the halls every chance she could. Even going so far as to take the long way to her next class in order to catch a glimpse of him.
She’d never been bold enough to actually say hello or introduce herself. That would have put her right in the line of fire. Ripe for rejection. And no matter how much her mother and father told her over and over again to hold her head up, she knew she wasn’t good enough for a boy like him.
And now he was a man.
And the man he’d grown into was glorious. At least in features. He still had the same strict, stern eyes. The square jaw that tensed when he was flustered. His stark blond hair was a bit shorter now than when they’d been in school, but it complemented his crystal-blue eyes perfectly.
She shook her head. He was talking, and she wasn’t listening. She hadn’t heard a thing he’d said since they’d gotten in the elevator.
“Angel.” His hard voice pulled her out of her own mind.
“Yes. I’m sorry. I floated away there for a moment.” At least all of her mother’s training on social interactions hadn’t fallen out of her head since setting her eyes on him.
He raised an eyebrow. “Thinking about your answers?”
Answers? To what? Had he asked a question?
“I was just thinking…” she paused. He didn’t need to know about her obsession with him when she was younger. Much younger and much more naïve. “Nothing. It was nothing. I think Jason said suite C, is that right?” She started to head down the hall.
“This way, Angel.” He caught her elbow and pulled her along the opposite way.
Get it together!
After Damien unlocked the door with the key Jason provided him, he pushed it open, gesturing for her to go in first. She smiled at him, and, with a nod, walked inside.
She had expected to find equipment similar to that in the large playroom on the first floor. But they were standing in what looked like a studio apartment. Modern, soft color palette living room setting in one space, and a large four-poster bed in the other half of the room.
“I asked for the domestic room.” He closed and locked the door behind her.
“Oh. Right.” She walked to the couch and sat down. He’d said just spanking, and you didn’t need a lot of equipment for that, she supposed.
“Before we get started, I’d like you to go to the restroom and clean your face.” He pointed to the washroom.
She looked over her shoulder at the private restroom. “Why?” she asked. She’d spent a lot of effort to get the look just right. Why would he want it washed away?
“Because I want to see your face. Your real face that’s buried under all that paint.”
“I’d rather not.” She shook her head. “If it’s all the same to you.”
“It’s not the same to me. I told you to do something. I expect you to be obedient and do it.” That jaw she’d found so charming before, tightened, and a flicker of disappointment flashed in his eyes.
Her stomach dropped. They’d been alone for three minutes, and she’d already started to fail.
But she couldn’t. She needed to make this happen. He’d been more than generous in the contract fee, and since she’d declined to go to his house, she needed to give a larger percentage to the Annex for the use of the room. She couldn’t lose the whole commission over some makeup.
“It’s just makeup.” She found herself continuing to stand her ground.
He slid his hands into his pockets and stared at her. He gave no appearance of getting ready to speak.
She squirmed in her seat, running her teeth over her lip. The lipstick had already smeared, she assumed, from his thumb downstairs.
“Let me be clear, Angel. I was completely honest downstairs with you. I expect a woman who is with me to be obedient the first time I give a direction. I don’t like disobedience in any form, and I am a very strict man. I’d rather spend the evening talking and play a bit, but if you would rather turn this into a punishment evening, I will not hesitate to act.”
She swallowed hard and pressed her thighs together. He’d sounded so forceful, so unyielding. She should have found the arrogance lacing his words demeaning and callous. Instead, she found herself getting wet for him.
With a small nod, she rose from the couch and went to the washroom where there were towels and soap on the countertop. She looked at herself in the mirror. Maybe she had overdone it a bit with the blush and the lipstick.
To be sure she’d gotten everything, she washed twice before checking the mirror again. She looked so—plain. Heaving a heavy sigh, and convinced he’d cancel the evening, she slowly walked back into the suite.
He hadn’t moved from his place while she’d washed.
“Come here, Angel,” he said in the same firm voice. She clasped her hands in front of her and walked to him, her head remaining bowed. He’d be disappointed with her ordinariness, and she was in no hurry to see it in his eyes.
Once she was near enough for him to touch, he pressed two fingers upward on her chin and lifted her face.
He would cancel the evening now, and she’d be back to square one. No closer to fulfilling her penance, and even further away from gaining his favor.
“That’s so much better. I can see you now. Don’t hide behind all that paint again. Clear?”
“Oh.” A lightness blossomed inside her at his words. “Yes?” Since she wouldn’t see him again after this, it would be fine to tell a bit of a lie.<
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He smiled. “Good. Now. Here’s your chance to be a good girl for me. Tell me what you did before you came to work for Ashland.” He didn’t release her chin, and she was too lost in his eyes to look away.
“I didn’t work,” she admitted.
He let her chin go and furrowed his brow.
“I was married, but my husband—he passed away a few months ago.” She should have felt more grief over that telling, but she managed to keep the feeling shoved aside. Right now, she just needed to get through the evening.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, genuinely.
“We weren’t very close,” she added quickly and took a step back from him. The scent of his aftershave distracted her.
“You weren’t close with your husband?” His brow quirked up again.
“Our fathers do business with each other. It was a marriage of convenience, really.” She wouldn’t go further than that. How could she, if she were to keep the story straight?
“Those are a bit uncommon these days.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets again. “It sounds as though your father would be able to take you in, help you after your husband’s death. Why did you come work for the Annex?”
A question she could not, would not answer. Even if it meant making him angry. Telling him would have consequences much larger than not earning her contract fee for the night.
“I’d rather not go into all that. We aren’t supposed to divulge personal information to the men who contract us.” She may have stretched that rule a bit, but it was still technically correct.
He stared at her thoughtfully for a long moment before he nodded concession.
“I wish I could remember you from high school. I can’t imagine I would have overlooked someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” she asked. What the hell did that mean?
“Yes. A woman who would like a man like me,” he said with a grin. His smile was genuine and warm, like it could shove all the chill from her soul if she let it.
“Oh.” She sat on the arm of the couch, crossing her ankles.
He laughed, a soft, low chuckle. Crossing the room, he sat on the couch, on the middle cushion. “Come here, Angel.” He put his hand out to her.
She slipped her hand into his, feeling the heat of his touch spread through her. He pulled gently until she moved from the arm of the couch to stand at his right leg.
“Lie across my lap.” He drew her down.
Right. The reason they were up in the suite. Her job. She needed to do her job. Get the money.
She eased over his thick thigh, feeling his muscles move when he readjusted himself.
He pulled her legs onto the cushions beside him and trailed his fingertips up the black seam of her stockings. “You really do fit perfectly,” he whispered.
Before she could ask him what he meant by that, his hands slid up her thighs, beneath the skirt of her dress. He pushed it up, over her backside, and bunched the fabric at her hips. The netting even obeyed him and stayed put.
“A slip.” He rested his hand over the satin fabric covering her ass. “Not many women wear these anymore.” He rubbed her cheeks over the slip, sending electric heat to her insides. She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead into her hands.
A hard smack resounded in the room, just before the sharpness of it registered in her mind. She stiffened.
Another swat, and she put her hand back to cover herself.
He tsked.
“Already being naughty,” he chided, but his voice was airy, light. He captured her wrist and held it at the small of her back. “I think we’ll need to go bare for this evening.” He tugged up on the slip, tucking it beneath the dress. “You already are.”
She sighed with embarrassment. She’d forgone panties, figuring she’d probably have to lose them at some point during the night anyway, and having to pull them down for a client just seemed too hard to do.
“Such a beautiful ass.” He grabbed her ass cheek and pulled it toward him, then away, playing with her flesh and making her face burn with humiliation. “Did your husband spank you?”
Only in her fantasies.
“No. He wasn’t—well, he didn’t see himself as the head of our marriage.”
“Ah. Well, that makes us very different men. I would be very much the head of my house and of my wife.” He brought his hand down again, harder this time. “Such a sweet pink.” He smacked her again and again.
She winced when the impacts became faster and harder.
“Oh!” She wiggled when one smack landed on her thigh.
“Don’t move, Angel,” he ordered and swatted her three times quickly on the same spot. Shoving her right leg off the couch, he slid his knee between her legs, raising it higher.
“Damien—” She tried to pull her hand free of his grip, to cover herself, but he held fast.
“Shh,” he ordered and slid two fingers between her legs, through her wet and wanting sex.
She moaned, unable to hide how much fire his touch brought to her.
His fingers disappeared, and a firestorm of smacks rained down on her ass.
“Oh! No! Damien!” she cried out, bucking against him.
“Did you claim to have spanking experience when you applied with the Annex?” he asked, continuing to spank her hard, but slowed the pace to let her answer.
“I did! I do!” She smacked the couch with her free hand. It was too much!
“When and who?” he asked, landing a smack to her thigh.
She blew out a long breath.
“When I was younger. Right after high school! A boyfriend.” She wanted to hide. Run and crawl beneath the bed until the mortification faded away.
“Did he punish you?” The question came softly.
“Only once. He-he moved away shortly after we started dating.” And she’d been left with a craving that would never be fulfilled.
“Hmm.” He continued to spank her, not sparing an inch of her ass, and flaming the fire already stoked within her. When she thought the tears building in her eyes would start to fall, he dropped his hand between her thighs once more. “So wet.”
“I-I can’t help it,” she whispered, wiping her eyes with her hand.
He laughed. “I don’t want you to. I’m going to make you feel good now, Angel. I want you to come for me. Can you do that? Can you be a good girl for me and come?”
She froze. Could she? She wanted to, there was no doubting that!
“Yes,” she squeaked.
“Ask me first though. When you’re ready, ask me if it’s okay.” His fingers began to search out her clit and easily found the sensitive nub. With her legs spread, and his knee placed so perfectly, she couldn’t help but begin to move against him as he petted her pussy.
Two fingers slid into her sex, filling her. He released her hand on her back, and she pulled it forward to hold her torso up as she began to grind herself into his knee.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, fucking her pussy harder with his fingers. “Ride my knee.” His voice came out tight, urgent.
It took no time at all for her body to respond to him. Her clit ached with desire; her belly twisted with pressure.
“Oh my god!” she cried out.
“Don’t forget what I said, Angel,” he said slipping a third finger inside her.
“May I come please, Damien? Please?” If he said no, she’d disobey him. In that moment, she only cared about finding relief. Punishment be damned, she’d deal with the fallout later.
“Ride my knee harder, and yes, you may,” he said, pulling her ass cheeks wide and thrusting harder into her.
She bucked her hips against his knee. Moaning, she fisted her hands on the couch.
“Oh yes! Oh, oh! Yes! Make me come! Make me come!” she cried out as the waves of her release unleashed through her body. She didn’t stop wiggling over his knee until every bit of orgasm faded, and she landed back on the couch in a heap.
He removed his fingers and lowered her slip a
nd dress back over her ass. The pleasure-filled throbbing of her clit overpowered the discomfort of her ass when the soft fabric of her slip touched it.
She was still breathing hard when he helped her stand. A long strand of hair had come loose from her updo, and she blew it out of her face. She wiped her cheeks clear of the few tears that had fallen.
She opened her eyes, looking down at his knee. An obvious wet spot had taken residence on his slacks.
She’d done that.
“I’m so sorry,” she rushed to say. “I’ll get that cleaned.” She started to hurry off to the bathroom, but he stood up and captured her face with his hands.
“No. I want it right there where it belongs.” He leaned down and crushed his lips against hers. A soft kiss, first a brush of his lips then an overpowering capture of all her senses. When he pulled away from her, she could barely breathe.
“I’d like to see you tomorrow. My place, this time, if you’re comfortable. Not on contract, but I will if I have to.” He pushed the hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.
“I’m scheduled to work at Sampson’s in the evening,” she said. “But lunch?”
“That works. I’ll send a car for you at noon.”
“Do I need to tell Daniel?” she asked.
He raised a brow. “I would hope you would know the rules of the house.”
“Right. I do. I know.” She nodded. She’d ask Celeste. She’d know the protocol on this. “And no contract is fine,” she added. It wouldn’t be right to take money for just spending time with him. Besides, it didn’t feel like work, and she’d be able to take another contract at the next party.
Her problems were going to start getting solved.
“Then we’ll meet tomorrow.”
Chapter 4
Damien brought down an aged cardboard box from his attic. He dusted off the top with his hand, coughing at the amount of dust it kicked up in his direction.
He hadn’t had any reason to save his old yearbooks. He’d told his mother to toss them when she’d packed up his old bedroom, but she didn’t listen. She thought he’d enjoy the memories one day.