DESIRE UNLEASHED: Sexsomnia: A Psychological Romance

by Maggie Carpenter

  "Amelia, are you all right? You were supposed to be here at seven."

  "I'm so sorry, James. I'm on my way right now. I hope I haven't ruined your dinner."

  There was a tone to her voice he didn't recognize. She almost sounded contrite. His radar beeped.

  "Not at all. I've been waiting for you to arrive."

  "I can be very naughty sometimes."

  There it was. The invitation. Out of nowhere. At lunch the day before she'd been almost shy. What was it she'd said? I might not be able to stay over. Was that no longer the case?

  "You know what happens to naughty girls," he said, deciding to accept her veiled request.

  "I do," she said breathlessly. "They get spanked."

  "So you know what to expect when you arrive. A hot bottom upon which to sit while you enjoy your hot meal."

  "Yes, Sir. I'll see you shortly."

  "Yes, Amelia, see you when you get here. Goodbye."

  James couldn't believe his ears. She'd said—Yes, Sir.

  Ignoring the wine, he splashed some scotch into a heavy glass tumbler. She was suddenly behaving like his submissive. He had to admit he found the idea delightful. She was smart and sexy, and her condition was intriguing more than disturbing. It was about fifteen minutes later when she walked in wearing a tight burgundy cashmere sweater, and black gabardine pants over high-heeled ankle boots.

  "You look very nice, but slacks?" he scolded. "When you come here a dress is obligatory."

  "Sorry, James," she said softly, appearing appropriately demure. "I'll make sure next time."

  "Are you ready for your spanking?"

  "Yes, Sir, no, Sir."

  "What does that mean?"

  "I am, but, uh, I'm nervous about it."

  "Are you indeed?"

  "And, um, embarrassed."

  He studied her. A red flush had moved across her cheeks. Blushing couldn't be manufactured. She was telling the truth. He'd always loved the phrase—a mystery wrapped up in an enigma—and she was.

  "You'll be more embarrassed when I bare your bottom," he declared, taking her hand and leading her to the couch. "Those trousers of yours are thick. They have to go."

  "Go?" she squeaked. "You mean—I have to take them off?"

  "Absolutely. Push them down to your knees and lay over my lap."

  The red flush on her face was turning crimson, and as he sat in front of her watching her unzip her pants, it was obvious to him she'd never done anything like it before. The slacks dropped down her legs revealing a pair of white-lace, French-cut knickers, and as she tentatively stretched herself over his knees, his cock sprang to life.

  "Now then, naughty girl, what have you to say?"

  "I'm sorry, James," she quivered. "I, uh, got caught up. I should have called."

  James paused. She'd manipulated him, and he silently cursed himself. She'd been waiting for his call. She knew exactly what she was going to say, and she'd known the outcome.

  "You played me," he brusquely exclaimed, landing a sudden, sharp smack.

  "Ow!"

  "Correct? Answer me," he demanded, delivering several stinging slaps in quick succession.

  "Ow! Ow! Yes, Sir. Yes, I did."

  "Games are fine, I'm always happy to play, but you'll probably get more than you bargained for."

  "Please don't spank me too hard."

  "Too hard is a relative term," he replied, pulling down her sexy knickers. "I will be the one to determine the severity of your punishment. Clear?"

  "Ooh, yes, Sir."

  She'd begun wriggling, and firmly holding her waist he launched into a vigorous spanking. It was only a minute or so later that her arm flew behind her in a desperate effort to protect her hot backside. Gripping her wrist at the small of her back, he smoothed his palm across her stinging skin.

  "Tell me what you've learned."

  "I've learned you have a very hard hand," she whimpered, "and it hurts."

  "That's why it's called punishment, and if you don't answer me the way you know you should I'm perfectly happy to continue."

  "No! I'm sorry, Sir. I've learned I'll pay the price if I manipulate you."

  "Correct. You can mess with me whenever you want, just be prepared for the consequences, and Amelia, if you ever need a hot bottom just tell me. I'll be more than happy to oblige."

  "Yes, Sir, thank you."

  As he heard her sigh and felt her sink into his lap, he sensed something was happening between them. He wasn't sure what it was, but he could feel its subtle presence as he continued to rub away the sting.

  "Amelia," he said softly, "I meant that. Any time you need this, all you have to do is tell me. I can spank away all your guilt and shame, but I can also give you a very sensuous spanking if you want me to. Just speak up."

  "Thank you, James," she murmured, and looking back over her shoulder, she smiled softly.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  As he sat across the table from Amelia, James was delighted by her change in attitude. She was warm and genuinely friendly, and though she shifted uncomfortably in her chair a few times, he saw the telltale half-smile when she did. She'd been spanked just as she'd wanted, and she was awake, wide awake. Her long-held erotic fantasies were becoming a reality.

  "Thank you for a delicious meal," she purred, circling her arms around his neck, "and thank you for the other stuff too."

  "You mean putting you over my knee and giving you what for?" he grinned as he pulled her against him.

  "Yes, that. Would you be interested in taking me to your bed and ravaging me?"

  "I thought you said you couldn't stay overnight."

  "I changed my mind. Call it a woman's prerogative."

  "I see. I think I could be persuaded."

  "Would this help?" she murmured, rubbing her hand across his stiffening member.

  "Ah, yes, that would definitely help," he replied, moving his lips to her neck and sucking in her skin like a hungry vampire.

  "I love that," she whispered. "I don't know why, but it makes my toes curl."

  "Hmmm, let's see what else makes your toes curl."

  Breaking their hug he, took her hand and led her into his bedroom, but the moment they entered she pulled her fingers from his and impatiently shimmied out of her slacks.

  "Bad girl," he scolded, pushing her on the bed, and quickly pulling down her knickers, he flipped her on to her stomach.

  "Why?" she bleated. "What did I do?"

  "I take off your clothes unless I tell you otherwise."

  "Sorry."

  "You don't sound the least bit sorry," he remarked, roaming his hand over her lusciously round, still-reddened cheeks. "You need a lesson in patience, then you might apologize and mean it. Tell me what else makes your toes curl."

  "Uh, well, I've never been tied up."

  He flashed back to her nocturnal visit and the bathrobe sash he'd looped around her wrists. Her innocent comment confirmed his suspicions. She had no memory of it.

  "How tied up would you like to be? There's quite a range. Do you want to jump in the deep end or stick your toe in the water?"

  "Um, maybe my toe."

  "Right, so up to your ankle then."

  He heard a quick intake of breath, and giving her bottom a sharp pinch, he moved quickly to the closet to retrieve a pair of fur-lined cuffs and a spreader bar.

  "Is that pole what I think it is?" she asked breathlessly as he reappeared.

  "If you mean will I use it to keep your ankles conveniently spread, then yes," he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. "First though, rule number one, your safe word. If you start to feel panicky, say red. Red means stop. Got it?"

  "Red. Got it."

  "Next, do what I say, when I say. Your job is to obey me. What do you think will happen if you don't?"

  "Uh, you'll spank me?"

  "I will punish you. Spanking is only one way to discipline a willful girl."

  "Oh, I see."

  "Oh, I see, Sir," he said sternly, landing a s
harp slap on her thigh. "If you want to play the game, you have to follow the rules."

  "Ouch! Sorry, Sir."

  Her eyes were sparkling up at him, and he recognized the glimmer in her eye. Her erotic need was firing. Another fantasy was being realized.

  "Bend over the bed."

  Uttering a strange mewling sound, she followed his instructions. After cuffing her wrists behind her back and shackling her ankles, he moved her feet apart and secured the bar. It had taken less than a minute to put her completely at his mercy. Touching between her legs, he found her wonderfully wet, and seasoning her desire with a few good slaps, he slid his fingers into her pussy, and began twirling his finger around her clit.

  "Sir?"

  "Yes, Amelia?"

  "Please, Sir, will you fuck me? Will you fuck me hard? I need you so much."

  "Since you asked so nicely, I'd be delighted to fuck you," he replied, stepping back and hastily stripping.

  His cock was as stiff as her pussy was wet. Slipping on a condom, he clutched her hips, placed himself at her entrance, thrust home, and began to pump with quick strong strokes.

  "Sir, please," she pleaded, "my whole body is tingling. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

  "Do you remember what I said about a lesson in patience?"

  "Ooh, Sir…"

  Slowing his pace, he paused intermittently to torment her sensitive nub, accelerated until she was gasping, then paused again. She mewled her disappointment, and leaning over her, he moved his hands under her chest and began kneading her breasts.

  "So, cheeky girl?" he purred, his lips at her ear as he pinched her nipples. "What do you have to say?"

  "I'll be good, and I swear I'll be patient. Please let me come?"

  It had been the desperate plea of a desperate sub. He smiled.

  "As I believe I once said to you, begging is always good."

  Straightening up, he grasped her hips, and pummeling her pussy, he didn't stop until her orgasm was shuddering through her body. Only then did he give himself the pleasure of his climax, plundering her soaked channel and surrendering to a powerful release. A short time later, unshackled and lying in his arms, she raised her head and gazed at him intently.

  "Um, James," she began hesitantly, "can I stay over or should I head home?"

  "Either is fine with me."

  "I never stay over. I always feel awkward, but I'm not feeling that way with you."

  "Good, but be warned, I usually wake with a raging erection."

  "That settles it," she murmured snuggling closer. "I'm not going anywhere."

  CHAPTER NINE

  The following morning, as James had predicted, he woke with his cock standing at attention. Pinning Amelia's hands above her head, he made love to her with vigorous abandon. It was a delightful start to the new day, and climbing from the bed, he meandered across to the window.

  "It's beautiful out," he remarked. "It will be cold, but would you like to walk to my favorite place for breakfast before you go back to the Four Seasons? It's a proper English cafe."

  "I'd love it. What a marvelous idea."

  Setting off they walked the few blocks at a brisk pace, quickly reaching the trendy eatery. Although it was crowded, they were able to find a table by the window. As they enjoyed a full English breakfast, they laughed about it being a meal many Americans would find wholly unappealing. Fried eggs, fried tomatoes, fried bread, crispy bacon, as well as toast and strawberry jam, and James couldn't remember when he'd had such fun over a morning meal. As they climbed into a cab, he found himself wishing they could spend the day together, and he was disappointed that his busy week would prevent him from meeting her for dinner.

  "I'm not sure I'll be able to see you until next weekend," he said on the way to her hotel. "It's going to be mayhem."

  "No problem. I know how it can get."

  "Yes, I'm sure you do. I'll be in touch when I can."

  "Don't work too hard," she said with a wink as she climbed out. "You know what they say about all work and no play."

  "I'm not sure I'll have time to remember."

  As he watched her walk into the hotel, it was hard to relate the happy relaxed woman with whom he'd just shared breakfast, to the cold, brusque professional he'd first met. Amelia was extremely likable, and Amelia the sub was downright hot.

  The week he'd thought would be mayhem turned out to be even worse, but as the chaotic days tumbled by, he kept reminding himself to stay cool. His steadfast demeanor was one of the reasons he'd been hired, and he was known in the company as the steely Englishman with a reputation for remaining equanimous in a crisis. After the dust had settled and Friday finally rolled around he was weary, but he was obligated to attend a weighty dinner with important clients. He was due at the restaurant at seven o'clock. If luck was on his side he'd be home by nine. The dinner was being held in the private dining room of an elegant eatery in mid-town Manhattan, and as he strolled past the bar, he heard someone call his name. To his astonishment, it was Amelia.

  "What a great surprise," he exclaimed, walking across to her. "How are you?"

  "Hi, James. I'm really well, thanks. Glad it's Friday though. This is my friend, Kathleen."

  "Nice to meet you, Kathleen."

  "You, too."

  As Amelia's friend smiled back at him with gleaming white teeth he knew must have cost a fortune, he couldn't help but notice a diamond bracelet, Cartier watch and Chanel bag. Her entire outfit screamed—I'm rich and I want to impress you—but it was causing James to think she probably needed a spanking!

  "Don't you look spiffy," Amelia remarked. "Very spiffy indeed."

  "I do? I don't feel very spiffy. Talk about being glad it's Friday."

  "What are you doing here?"

  "A solemn business dinner. All frowns and deep thinking. Sorry, I'd better go in. Do you want to get together tomorrow night? I'll need to stay in, though. I've been out every night this week."

  "Sure. I'd love it."

  "Great, bye, then."

  If he'd not been so exhausted, he might have sensed something, but being absolutely knackered, the only thought he had as he walked into the private dining room was how delightful it had been to see her. It was a couple of hours later that he walked back through the bar. He wasn't surprised that she'd left, and arriving home he immediately peeled off his clothes and gratefully collapsed into bed. Sleep descended quickly, and he was deeply embedded in no-man's land when the buzzer rang. He was beyond annoyed. For a moment he considered ignoring it, but he knew he couldn't. Stumbling from the bed, he staggered down the hallway and pressed the button. He didn't need to ask who it was.

  "Come on up, Amelia."

  Leaning against the wall he closed his eyes, almost falling back asleep as he waited for her knock. A moment later he opened the door, and was jolted wide awake. She wasn't alone. Kathleen was at her side.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "No, you can't be here," James muttered. "Absolutely not. You have to leave!"

  His rude greeting didn't faze Amelia, but he assumed she was fast asleep. Although he didn't know how oblivious she actually was, the way she'd invited Kathleen into his home said—pretty fucking oblivious.

  "Kathleen wants to see your pole and cuffs, and she wants to be spanked."

  "Yes…," Kathleen giggled. "I'd love to see your pole."

  James ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. Kathleen's face was full of expectation, and Amelia looked like a mischievous little girl.

  "I've always wanted to be spanked," Kathleen declared, her sparkling gaze full of excited anticipation.

  She reminded him of a cat eyeing a fish in a bowl. He wanted to chase her out the door, but he couldn't let Amelia leave.

  "Then I'd suggest you find someone to do the honors."

  "Well, duh. I just have!"

  "No, you haven't," he said firmly. "I'm afraid you'll have to find your fun over someone else's knee."

  "Seriously? Shit. I've tried, but no one ever wants to," s
he complained. "What are they so fucking afraid of?"

  "You'll have to ask them, but I can assure you it's not going to happen with me. Not tonight anyway."

  "James," Amelia purred, stepping in front of the frustrated Kathleen and wrapping herself around him. "Have I been a bad girl bringing my friend here?"

  "You certainly have."

  "Are you going to spank her?" Kathleen piped up.

  For a moment, James felt confounded, but an idea suddenly popped into his head. An idea he considered truly inspired. Grabbing Amelia's wrists, he removed them from around his neck and fixed her with a solemn expression.

  "Amelia," he said sternly, "go and sit on the couch and don't move or speak until I give you permission."

  "Yes, Sir," she immediately replied, and to his great relief. she scurried across the room and dropped onto the sofa.

  "Kathleen," he said, turning to her and maintaining his authoritative demeanor. "You have to leave."

  "Whoa, that was cool. That was super-cool. Will you do that to me?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Will you order me to the couch and tell me to sit and be quiet?"

  "No," he said vehemently. "It's time for you to go. How did you get here?"

  "You are so fucking sexy."

  James decided he must be the one dreaming. He was standing half naked in ugly checkered boxers, probably smelling like the bottom of a questionable wine barrel, and an extremely hot, blond, well-dressed woman had just told him he was fucking sexy. Once again, he was amazed that countless men failed to understand the fairer sex. Women didn't want to be bullied or abused, but they did want a take-charge man who didn't pussyfoot around.

  "I'm glad you think I'm sexy, Kathleen, but please answer me. How did you get here?"

  "In a town car from the hotel. Please, please, will you spank me? I know you do that kind of thing. Amelia told me all about it."

  "You'll have to make an appointment," he said, wondering if an angel was dropping the brilliant thoughts into his weary brain. "Just to be clear, when you say the hotel, do you mean The Four Seasons?"