He reached up and casually stroked her hair. “You’re a beautiful woman, Arden.”
“Thank you.” Her voice held a huskiness caused by the touch of his fingers against her hair.
“With the right discipline, you could be extraordinary. You want me to discipline you, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You need it, don’t you, my lovely?”
The need for it raged inside her like a fever.
“Yes.”
“Tell me. Ask for it.”
Arden bowed her head. “I need discipline. Would you please spank me?”
He sipped his champagne and eyed her over the rim. “I’m not convinced. Why should I? What have you done?”
She wanted it desperately. Her pussy throbbed with the need to feel his palm against her cheeks. For the first time it occurred to her that he could toy with her and never actually give her what she wanted. She had to convince him.
“I’ve been very bad. I did something without your permission.”
His eyes glittered. “Tell me what you did.”
“When I went to the bathroom at the restaurant….”
“Yes? What happened in there?”
“I touched myself.”
“I see. Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you make yourself come?”
“No.”
“You do need to be taught a lesson. Put your drink on the table.” Her hand was slightly unsteady with anticipation and relief as she placed her champagne on the table. “Get on your knees on the loveseat.”
Her heart thumped like mad in her chest as she knelt on the seat.
“Good. Now show me how you touched yourself so that I’ll know just how much discipline you need.”
She steadied herself with one hand on the back of the small settee and slid her left knee toward the back, leaving her legs apart. She slipped her right hand between the folds of the dressing gown’s front. She touched herself. She didn’t know if she had ever been this wet before. “Please,” her voice seemed to echo the low throb between her thighs, “I know I did a naughty thing.”
“Bend over my lap. No, don’t lie on my lap. Bend over, knees, elbows, and forearms on the loveseat, your rump up in the air. Keep your knees apart. Ah, that’s it.” He took the sheer material in his hand and pulled it up to her waist, leaving her backside, and pussy, exposed.
“You understand you need discipline? You need to learn a lesson?”
“Yes.”
The first slap landed without a lot of force, but it still took her by surprise. It shouldn’t have. One followed the other, smart, stinging. Greg paused and smoothed his hand over her cheeks. “When you are with me, you are mine. This is mine.” He fingered her cunt, and she whimpered with delight. He began to spank her again, “When you are with me, your pussy is mine. You only touch it when I give you permission. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He fingered her again. “So sweet and wet. You respond well to discipline. Have you learned your lesson?”
“Almost.”
“Oh, I see. Beautiful, but stubborn. Here’s some more.” He spanked her until her ass was deliciously on fire, and she wiggled beneath his palm.
Her breathing was ragged. “Now let me take care of this.” He leaned against her and pulled the bottle of iced champagne from the bucket. He drizzled it over her burning cheeks, and she threw her head back, but it was nothing compared to the stream of cool bubbly he directed over her anus that ran down into her hot, wet cunt.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes. Oh yes. Very much.” She was throbbing, pulsing, as if every nerve ending had exponentially expanded.
He directed another stream and then rimmed her anus with his fingertip. “So sweet and tight. Virgin?”
“Yes.”
He inserted the smallest tip of his finger, and she gasped and arched her back. “Another time, but we will. You’ll like it.” He eased his fingertip along the puckered edge. “There are lots of nerve endings here. It feels good doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s mine as well. Say it.”
“That’s yours as well.”
He returned the champagne and pulled something else out of the ice bucket. “Stay the way you are.” She heard the hum of a vibrator. With two fingers on his left hand, he spread her pussy open. She gasped as he teased the icy cold vibrator around her opening. It was so cold, and she was so hot, and she nearly came unhinged. She thrust her ass in the air and wiggled it, inviting more, like a cat in heat.
He chuckled. “Easy, easy. It’s coming. You’re coming.” He eased the vibrator in, and it was as if there was no thinking left, only feeling. She pushed back against it as he worked it in and out of her. All she knew was she wanted the release, the sweet culmination of all the tension he’d built inside her. Greg reached beneath her and fondled her clitoris as he pumped her with the vibrator. She convulsed and bucked as her orgasm crashed through her, around her.
“Shhh. Shhh. It’s okay.”
She realized she was crying, moaning and screaming all at once as she shook. “Just relax. That’s it. Lie across my lap. I’ve got you.” He withdrew the vibrator and turned it off. She lay across his legs, her legs splayed open, tiny spasms still wracking her. “It’s okay. I’m here.” He inserted two fingers and began to stroke and rub against the front wall of her vagina. “That’s it…just relax and let me pet you…yes, that feels so good, doesn’t it? Tell me how good it feels.”
“It…feels…sooooo…gooooood.” She was coming again, bucking against him, crying with pleasure, her swollen buttocks throbbing from his discipline.
Finally, it subsided, and she felt like a puddle of orgasmic pleasure. Even though her pussy was so sensitive she could hardly stand it, Greg continued playing with her pussy and rubbing it. “That’s a good girl. See what can happen with a firm hand. Yes, this is my pussy, isn’t it?”
She would say, do anything to feel that way again. “Yes, it’s yours.”
“Stand up.”
“I’m—”
He smacked her ass, and she stood. “That’s it. You’re learning. Now come with me.”
He led her into the bedroom. She hadn’t noticed it earlier, but a large cheval mirror stood facing one corner of the bed. He led her to face the mirror and stood behind her, encircling her with his arms. “Look. You were beautiful before, but this is what passion looks like. Beautiful, hot, erotic passion.”
Her hair was a wreck and tears had tracked through her mascara, but, oddly enough, she did look beautifully passionate and erotic. She reached up to tidy her hair and finger away the mascara trail.
“Leave it. I like you this way—a little gritty from passion. It’s real. It’s a juxtaposition. This.” He touched the delicate, gossamer robe. “And this.” He gently stroked her disheveled face.
She leaned back into him, “You’re right.”
“Of course I am.”
* * *
Georgina shifted on the couch and read the page for the third time, her concentration shot to hell. George’s mother had called twice. Both times she’d left a message that started out, “Dear Girl.” Not too long ago she’d considered Anne’s dear girl a term of endearment, but increasingly it grated on her nerves. Now, it simply sounded patronizing to her. Lulu, curled up by Georgina’s feet, raised her head and offered an admonishing blink.
“Yeah, I know,” Georgina said to the cat. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
A knock at the door raised Lulu’s head again and set Georgina’s pulse into overdrive. She realized that somewhere in the back of her mind she’d been waiting on the knock. Putting the book face down on the sofa, she stood. Anticipating that knock, and Anne’s phone campaign, had kept her from settling into reading. She crossed the room to the door.
“Who is it?”
“Me. Kennedy.”
Asking had been a mere formality. She opened the door
.
“Dinner,” he said by way of greeting, hoisting a bag in his left hand. He grinned. “I thought you might be out of peanut butter.”
Silent, she stood aside for him to enter and then closed the door behind him.
“Hey, Cat.”
Lulu ignored him. “Kennedy, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Of course, it was counterproductive to announce that after she let him in.
“People have to eat, Gina.” He placed the bag on the coffee table.
“I don’t want to complicate my life any more than it already is.” The conversation with Celeste, Detroit’s question to her friend, flashed through her head. “I don’t want to get you mixed up in my life or play you.”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I see Detroit’s been running his big mouth to Celeste.”
Georgina fought the urge to shift on her feet. “He’s apparently concerned about you.”
“I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself, and I do have a mind of my own. I know your situation. I’m not trying to complicate things, but I figure you could use a friend right now.”
“I don’t know that I can be your friend right now. I’m barely keeping myself afloat. There’s just nothing left of me to give to anyone else.”
“I’m not asking for anything in return.”
Georgina shook her head slowly. “Maybe not right now, but you will. Nothing in life is free. Everything comes with strings attached.” She’d been handed that lesson over and over again.
He nodded slowly. “You’re right. I brought food for dinner, and it does come with the expectation that you would let me eat with you if I brought the groceries and cooked. However, if you want me to leave, then I’ll leave…and you can keep the food.”
“I don’t want your pity.” She’d had a belly full of that as well. Pity meant acceptance on sufferance … cruelty…threats.
“I bring you groceries, and you think I pity you? Is that the way it works in your world? That’s a hell of a note.”
“Then why are you here? There are a million other women out there. Go find one.”
“Is that what you want?” For a moment vulnerability glimmered in his dark brown eyes.
She didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t want to hurt him. She didn’t want to hurt herself. She knew that much.
“Yes. Go. Now,” she said on a note of desperation. “Before it’s too late.”
“It’s already too late.” He pulled her up hard against him. His heat enveloped her. She should shrug him off, step away, but she couldn’t find it in herself to do it. While this wasn’t where she needed to be, it was where she’d wanted to be, where she’d fought against being. His warmth, his being, sapped all of her fight. He tangled his hands in her hair, tilting her head up, forcing her to face him. “It’s been too late for a long goddamned time.”
His mouth claimed hers. His lips firm and commanding, there was no mistaking the passion lurking behind the tenderness. And God help her, she kissed him back. She infused all the anger and confusion and loneliness of her marriage, and all the wanting she’d felt for him in her kiss. In return, she could practically taste his hunger for her in the sweep of his tongue against the moist recess of her mouth.
They were both panting when they drew apart. She took a step back, away from him, because if she didn’t now, she wasn’t sure she would. She’d never been kissed like that. She’d never kissed anyone like that.
“See. It’s too late,” he said. He stood with his legs braced apart. “Do you still want me to go?”
She was trembling inside. “That can’t happen again. “ She turned away to straighten a cushion that was already perfectly straight on the sofa. Without looking at him, she asked, “Do you still want to stay?”
“That won’t happen again…tonight.” He picked up the bags. “I’ll cook, but you can help me prep.”
She paused, fully aware she was…they were…at an important crossroads. She could show him the front door or she could show him the way to her kitchen.
She turned. “I don’t do onions. I eat them, but I don’t cut them up. I buy them pre-diced and frozen.”
“I can handle that.”
* * *
“Fetch a towel from the bathroom.”
Arden
did his bidding and returned with a towel, presenting it to him. “Watch how I do this because next time it will be your job.” He placed the towel catty-corner to the bottom edge of the bed.
“Now get on your knees, unzip my pants, and take my cock out.”
She did and for a second she thought about licking it and taking it in her mouth. She wanted to. His penis was long and lean with a thatch of dark hair surrounding it. Circumcised, his veins were prominent beneath the taut skin. For all her earlier satiation, she was turned on again. However, she didn’t even as much as stroke it. Instead she awaited his instructions.
“You please me.”
“Thank you. You’ve given me great pleasure tonight.”
He sat on the towel, straddling the corner, facing the end of the bed and the mirror. “Get on the bed behind me.”
She had no idea where this was going but she climbed onto the mattress behind him. “Reach around me and jerk me off. Make sure you don’t get any cum on my clothes.”
Now she understood the towel and his positioning. She was right handed so she reached around his waist and wrapped her fingers around his hot, veined cock. “How would you like it?”
“Loose and light at first, then hard and tight and fast.”
She began to stroke him, loving the slide of his cock against her palm and her fingertips. It was a bit awkward at first, but she got the hang of it. Pressed against his back and around his middle, she could feel his entire body responding, tightening, to her ministrations.
His breathing grew labored, his body tense and hard. She began to jerk and yank, harder and harder. “Oh, yeah.”
He began to spew and she kept a tight hand on him, directing his jism onto the towel in front and not anywhere close to his slacks. He had braced his arms out on the bed and she sneaked a peak. The reflection in the mirror was very hot. Her feminine hand, her pink nails, all wrapped around his thick throbbing cock with its white cum jet.
His goo oozed onto her hand, and she thought it was hot. She was discovering she had a definite thing for body fluids. This was what sex should be—pleasure and pain and domination and messy and hot.
“May I?” she asked, holding up her hand.
Curiosity flickered across his face. “Yes.”
Her eyes held his in the mirror as she slowly, deliberately brought her hand to her lips and licked. He bit back a groan. “Come here,” he instructed. “To my side. Up on your knees. That’s good. Now go ahead.”
He reached through the robe’s opening and fingered her as she licked his cum off her hand. She was wet…still…again…incredibly she wanted more. “My pet, you are insatiable.”
He stood, positioning himself in front of the mirror. “Lick me clean.” He indicated the carpeted spot in front of him. “We’ll watch together.”
Arden knelt in front of him and meticulously licked his penis, paying special attention to the head and then she took him into her mouth and milked him.
Greg tangled his fingers in her hair. “Ah, that’s it. Get it all.”
The taste and feel of him in her mouth excited her all over again. She swirled her tongue around his cock and sucked him harder.
“Do you need it again? Is that what you’re telling me?”
She nodded, his cock still in her mouth. “I’ll think about it.” He carefully extricated his dick from her mouth. Under other circumstances she would have sucked harder and put up a bit of a fight, but he was in control. They’d agreed.
He pulled her to her feet and turned her to face the mirror, standing behind her. He untied the satin sash of her robe and let it fall open. He reached down and cupped her pussy in his hand. They both heard the squelch of her juices aga
inst his palm. She arched into his hand, seeking more.
“Is your pussy always so hungry?”
“No.”
His smile held more than a measure of satisfaction. “Go get the vibrator and bring it here.”
She walked to the other room, the open robe flowing behind her. Greg had left the vibrator on the coffee table. She picked it up and crossed the room. He stopped her at the threshold of the bedroom. “Stop. Crawl the rest of the way.”
It was the first thing he’d asked…or instructed rather…that she almost protested. But she was in this so she got on the carpet and crawled, holding the vibrator in her mouth. And if she was going to do it, she was going to do it right. She let her breasts and hips swing freely.
Greg had brought the mirror over to the ottoman and armchair. He sat casually in the chair. She stopped beside it and waited, her pussy aching with need. The longer she waited, the more she needed it. Finally, he took the vibrator and spoke.
“Did you want something?”
“I need to be fucked.”
“Have you been good?”
The notion of another spanking left her dripping. “I was a little bad.”
“Come here then. First things first. Lay over the ottoman. Pull your robe up.” Thwack, thwack, thwack. A quick succession of stinging smacks landed on her ass. She bit her lip to keep from crying out with the pleasure that came from the pain. “I think you haven’t quite learned your lesson.” He landed another volley of open-handed slaps to her bottom.
“Now turn around and face me on your knees and bend over.” She did. He reached around her and cupped the bottom of each cheek in one hand and pulled them apart, spreading her cheeks, stretching her anus and her vagina. “Look. Look at your red ass and your dripping cunt.”
She looked upside down, through her legs. She was so ashamed that it turned her on, and the taboo aspect of it even made it all the more delicious. She, who had always been such a straight arrow, had a deviant streak. “Look at how swollen your cunt is. It’s pouting because it needs attention. Come get in my lap, and I’ll give you what you want, what you need.”
BY THE HOUR, ATLANTA, Book 1 Page 9