Spy

by Julia Sykes

  But fuck if it didn’t make me crave her even more. Her lush body and innocent eyes would have been enough to attract me, but her honest, eager submission was turning my intense desire into obsession.

  Trying my best to forget about how mind-blowingly hot she had looked while tied to the St. Andrew’s Cross, I stepped out of the shower and quickly dried off. Even after I pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, I lingered in the bathroom. I was going to have to continue her training.

  I bit the inside of my cheek. The salty tang of blood on my tongue helped distract me from my raging desire. Steeling myself, I returned to the bedroom to face her.

  “We need to talk about high protocol,” I informed her, trying to keep the lust out of my voice. The prospect of her kneeling for me reminded me of the last time she’d done it, when she’s taken my cock in her mouth.

  That wouldn’t happen again. I’m in control. Of her, of myself.

  “What’s high protocol?” she asked, reminding me again of her enticing innocence. The bastard in me still relished the fact that I was her first Dom.

  I’m not her Dom. I’m just pretending to be her Master.

  I was sure I would have to remind myself of that countless times over the next few days.

  “High protocol is what we’ll practice in front of the anarchists.”

  If it comes to that. I was still holding out hope that I could get the intel I needed to stop their attack before I was forced to take Lissa to a meeting.

  “And what does it involve?” She was openly curious, and I again sensed the eagerness in her that so entranced me. She craved more of my darker brand of seduction. The fact that she was enjoying her training made it that much more difficult to remind myself that this wasn’t real.

  “You’ll present yourself to me. On your knees.” Despite my best efforts, my voice was tight with suppressed desire. It didn’t help that her pupils dilated and her lips parted.

  Without further instruction, she sank to her knees before me.

  “Like this?” she asked breathily.

  My hand reached out to stroke her hair in a reflexive show of approval. She leaned into my touch, and I couldn’t bring myself to pull away.

  “Spread your legs,” I commanded, the high of the power exchange already beginning to claim my mind.

  She obeyed, sliding her thighs apart. I wished she wasn’t wearing her yoga pants; I should have a clear view of her pussy. I still hadn’t seen her completely bare. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to fantasize about what she would look like naked in this position.

  My cock hardened, and I forced the image away.

  “Pull your shoulders back, and place your hands palms-up on your knees.”

  Her breasts thrust out. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her hardened nipples were clearly visible through her thin t-shirt. I suppressed a groan. She was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen, and she was fully clothed.

  “Like this?” she asked, seeking my approval.

  “Yes. Just like that, pet.” My fingers played through her hair. “But you aren’t supposed to speak without my express permission when we’re practicing high protocol.”

  She pursed her lips together, but annoyance glinted through the lust in her eyes. She didn’t like that particular rule. I imagined what a pretty red ball gag would look like pressed into her lush mouth, forcing her to obey my order for silence.

  I quickly shook the image away. I was torturing myself.

  And the challenge in her sharp gaze goaded me further.

  “Eyes down,” I said more harshly than I intended. “You will not look any man directly in the eye unless I tell you to.”

  Her emerald eyes flashed, and she continued to stare at me in defiance.

  My fingers tightened in her hair. “Do as I say, or I’ll punish you.”

  Her expression went blank with shock. She obviously hadn’t expected discipline to be part of our arrangement.

  I fully intended to ensure her unquestioning obedience, no matter what it took. If I didn’t, her defiance might cost her life.

  She still didn’t look down.

  “Do as I say, or I’ll bend you over my knee and spank you. I’m sure you’re still sore from your flogging. I can assure you the pain won’t be pleasant this time.”

  She glared at me for a moment longer, then dropped her eyes.

  Relief and triumph unfurled in my chest. Conquering her headstrong nature, bending her to my will, was far more satisfying than playing with a doormat sub. Lissa was everything I desired in a partner.

  She’s not mine. Not really.

  And she never would be. I would end this op as fast as possible, and then I would return to D.C., be assigned to some other dangerous task. I wouldn’t involve her in my violent world any more than I already had.

  I realized my hand was fisted in her hair, pulling too tightly. I eased my grip and resumed stroking her, communicating my pleasure with her compliance. She sighed and relaxed, reassured. I reminded myself that she was making herself vulnerable, and it was my responsibility to look after her, to put her needs ahead of my own. Even if it wasn’t real, I would be a good Master to her.

  I reached for a pillow and tossed it on the floor beside her.

  “Get comfortable,” I instructed, keeping my voice even.

  Without lifting her eyes, she shifted so her knees were cushioned by the pillow. It would take time for her to get used to being in this position for extended periods, so we would start with a short session.

  I sat down on the end of the bed, just beside where she knelt. Reaching for the remote, I turned on the TV. The Cubs were playing, but I didn’t really watch the game. All my attention was focused on her.

  At first, she stiffened in anger at being ignored, but after a while she calmed.

  “Shoulders back,” I reminded her.

  She immediately complied, and I caressed her nape in a show of approval. She drew in a shaky breath and settled into her position. I rubbed my thumb and forefinger up and down the column of her neck, easing the tension she held there. Her breathing turned deep and even, and I recognized the signs that she was sinking into the peaceful state she found through submission.

  A knock at the door made her eyes jerk up. I applied pressure to the back of her head, redirecting her gaze to the floor.

  “Stay.”

  Her fingers curled closed where they rested on her knees. I waited. After a moment, they unfurled and she returned to the correct pose.

  “Good girl.”

  I stood and answered the door, using my body to block her from the delivery man’s view. I accepted the Chinese food I’d ordered earlier and quickly dismissed the man.

  I set out the Styrofoam box on the small desk, all the while watching her out of the corner of my eye. To my immense satisfaction, she didn’t so much as glance up at me.

  Returning to her, I held out both hands for her to take. She blinked and looked up at me.

  “We’re still in high protocol,” I reminded her.

  She immediately dropped her eyes. Her slender fingers closed around mine, and I pulled her to her feet. I gripped her waist, allowing her time to stretch her legs after her time on her knees. When I was sure she wouldn’t cramp up, I lifted her in my arms and cradled her to my chest. I carried her the short distance to the desk and settled down on the battered office chair, positioning her so she sat across my lap.

  She didn’t look up at me, but she watched my movements intently as I reached out and picked up a piece of sesame chicken. I lifted it to her mouth. She hesitated, uncertain. I waited until she parted her lips and carefully accepted what I offered her. Her tongue touched my fingertip, swirling around it as she sucked off the sticky sauce.

  My cock hardened in response. The little minx was tempting me intentionally.

  I withdrew my fingers and picked up the plastic fork. I’d wanted to feed her by hand, but I didn’t think I could handle it. If she did that again, I’d bend her over the desk, pull down he
r pants, and fuck her hard from behind.

  Pretending to be her Master was proving to be pure agony.

  * * * * *

  “Ian?” Lissa called from the bathroom. “Do you have an extra towel out there?”

  Fuck.

  I hoped to hell she was ready for her first punishment. I wasn’t at all sure I was ready for it, but I had a responsibility. She couldn’t call me by my name. A slip-up like that in front of the anarchists would blow our cover.

  “Come here,” I ordered, my voice clipped.

  She cracked open the bathroom door and peered out at me. “Can you hand me a towel first? I need to dry off before I get dressed.”

  “No. Come out here. Now.”

  Her forehead creased. “Okay. Let me throw on my jeans and-”

  “No,” I cut her off levelly. “I didn’t tell you to get dressed. I told you to come here.”

  I was going to see her naked. I craved it as much as I dreaded it.

  I could wait for her to get dressed, but she wouldn’t feel the heat of my hand properly through her jeans. Besides, her behavior needed to be rectified immediately if she was going to understand the lesson.

  She gaped at me, her pretty pink lips popping open. “Ian-”

  “Master,” I corrected her. “You can’t call me Ian.”

  Her brows drew together. “Ever?”

  “Not until this op is over. We have to practice.” I pointed at the floor in front of me. “Now come here. If I have to drag you out of there, things will go worse for you.”

  She shrank back. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “I’m going to discipline you, pet.”

  “I don’t know if I want that.” Her voice was high with nervousness, but she licked her lips.

  “You have your safe words,” I reminded her. “Do you want to use one now?”

  She hesitated. “Will this help with the mission?”

  “You’ll be safer if you’re accustomed to behaving around me in the way the anarchists are expecting. It’s my job to protect you. That means it’s also my job to punish you if you don’t behave correctly.” I sobered. “I know this is a fucked up situation. You can say no at any time, and everything will stop. I’ll put you in witness protection. I’ll be out of your life for good.”

  “I don’t want that,” she said quickly. “I want to stay with you. I know you’ll keep me safe.” She eased the door open and took one step toward me.

  I stopped breathing. She was more perfect than I’d imagined in my darkest fantasies. Her lightly tanned skin glistened, still wet from her shower. Drops of water beaded on her delicate collarbones, the swell of her breasts, her toned thighs. Her curves were soft, but I knew all that softness concealed strength, both physical and mental.

  “What’s wrong?” She shifted and crossed her arms over her chest, covering herself self-consciously.

  I gently grasped her wrists and pulled her arms back to her sides. “Don’t hide your body from me.”

  She blushed and dropped her eyes. “Sorry.”

  Fuck, she was so beautiful, so giving. I wanted to gather her up in my arms and caress all that gorgeous skin, to tell her how perfect and sweet she was.

  My heart gave a funny little squeeze at the thought. It was unnerving.

  I took a step back, struggling to clear the strange sensation from my chest. I forced my focus back to my task.

  “Sorry, Master,” I corrected her.

  She glanced up at me through her lashes. “Sorry, Master,” she said huskily. “I keep forgetting.”

  “You won’t forget again.”

  Keeping my hold on her wrists, I led her toward the bed. I sat down on the edge and shifted my grip to her waist, guiding her body into position so she was draped facedown over my thighs. With the ease of long practice, I pinned both her hands at the small of her back with one of my own. She tugged against me, and I tightened my fingers with a warning growl. She stilled, but nervous tension still gripped her muscles.

  I ran my palm over the curve of her ass. It was offered up to me, available for me to use in any way I wished. She was mine to tease and torment.

  I gently traced the outline of the faint bruises the flogger had left on her from our session the day before, and I almost felt bad for what I was about to do to her. Almost.

  “I’m going to spank you,” I told her. “You’ll be sore from yesterday, so we’ll keep the count at ten. If you forget again, it’ll be twenty. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “That’s very good, pet.”

  To reinforce her good behavior, I reached between her thighs and traced the lines of her pussy lips. She was wet with more than water. I bit back a groan. Even though she was uncertain about the prospect of discipline, she was turned on. I dipped my fingertips inside, enjoying the silken feel of her. She squirmed against me, her hips rubbing against my dick.

  I hissed in a breath and gripped her thigh hard, my fingers biting into one of her bruises.

  “Don’t move.”

  She whimpered and went utterly still. I instantly released her and tenderly massaged away the pain I’d inflicted. She moaned as it turned to pleasure.

  This was exactly how I wanted her: pliant, needy. Completely under my control.

  “I want you to keep count,” I told her. “You will thank me for each one. Understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  My dick strained against her hips, aching to get inside her. When I was certain I wouldn’t lose all control and drive mindlessly into her lush heat, I began her punishment.

  She cried out at the first crack of my hand against her soft skin. I wasn’t going easy on her; this wasn’t supposed to be a pleasurable experience.

  I gave her a moment to gasp, then reminded her, “You’re supposed to keep count. Out loud. I want to hear you.”

  “One.” Her voice shook.

  “And?” I prompted, showing some mercy. This was her first time, so I would be lenient. She needed to figure out the rules.

  “Thank you, Master.” It was barely a whisper.

  I spanked her again, landing a twin blow on her other cheek. “Louder.”

  “Two!” She shouted. “Thank you, Master.”

  “That’s very good, pet. Just like that.”

  I stroked away the sting. She shuddered and whined. The sound almost made me come undone.

  I slapped her sensitive thigh.

  “Three!” she choked out. “Thank you, Master.”

  I fell into the power exchange, my entire world shifting to her. I became completely absorbed by the sight of the red marks my hand had left on her pretty skin, branding her.

  Mine. All mine.

  I took my time, delivering the hits at random intervals to keep her on edge. Between each one, I caressed her, toying with her pussy. By the time I got to ten, my hand was slick with her desire. She was just as turned on by my discipline as I was.

  “Thank you, Master!” My name left her lips on a scream.

  I drove two fingers into her tight sheath, and her scream turned to a delighted moan.

  “Thank you, Master,” she practically sobbed her relief at finally being touched in the way she craved.

  I found the sensitive spot at the front of her inner walls and curled my fingers against it, rubbing her clit with my thumb at the same time.

  “Come for me, pet.”

  Before I even finished delivering the command, her pleasure began to take her. Her muscles squeezed me greedily, seeking more. I increased my pace, giving her everything she wanted. She had earned it.

  She screamed out her pleasure, her body twisting against me as ecstasy claimed her. I gritted my teeth against the painfully sweet stimulation of her abdomen rubbing against my rock hard cock.

  Control. I had to control myself. It wouldn’t be fair to fuck her. I had nothing real to offer her.

  And I feared I might forget that if I let myself get inside her again. If I did, I might never want to leave
.

  An ugly cocktail of guilt and remembered anguish poisoned my insides, causing physical pain to take hold deep in my chest.

  My raging desire subsided, driven away by the memories that had haunted me for two years. How could I hold Lissa like this? I felt like I was betraying Marie.

  My fault. What happened to my wife was my fault. And now the same thing might happen to Lissa if we weren’t careful.

  “Master? Are you okay?”

  Lissa turned her head to look up at me, the lust clearing from her eyes to be replaced with concern.

  I carefully shifted her, picking her up off my lap and setting her down on the bed.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” I announced, standing to leave her.

  Her slender fingers closed around my wrist. “Wait.”

  I gave her my most forbidding scowl. I couldn’t be intimate with her, not now. Not ever.

  “I ordered you not to touch me.” I wrenched free from her grip. “If you forget again, it’ll be thirty, and you won’t get an orgasm at the end.”

  Her delicate features tightened with hurt. “I wish you would let me help you. Please, talk to me.”

  I paused, surprised. Marie used to go stony silent if I hurt her feelings. Only gentle reassurances would comfort her and coax her out of her black mood.

  Lissa put concerns about my wellbeing above her own; her compassion overrode the pain I caused her.

  My fists clenched at my sides. How could I be comparing her to my dead wife?

  The ache in my chest flared, and I fought back a wince. With a sharp jerk of my head, I turned away from Lissa and the temptation she posed. Not just her body, but her sweetness, her goodness. I wanted to curl myself around her and confess all my sins. I wanted to bury myself inside her and fuck away all the darkness that infested my soul.

  It’s not real. None of this is real.

  I couldn’t be. I wouldn’t allow it. She deserved better.

  Chapter 7

  Lissa

  My mind churned, each of my dark emotions battling for dominance: hurt, anger, despair. I glanced over at my pill bottle where it sat on the nightstand. Usually, I would pop a couple and go see Alik if I was feeling this upset. He always made me feel better.