How to Punish Your Playboy (DommeNation #3)

by Mina Vaughn

  “I didn’t want to go.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “After that display last night, I’m pretty stunned you’d just say no to your granny.” I didn’t mind shaming him about that—it was weak and he needed strengthening.

  “She wasn’t happy,” he laughed. “And neither was my dad. Oh well. They’ll have to deal. I’m branching out.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Oh well? So are you out of the business?”

  Aston shrugged, muscular shoulders flexing beneath his soft tee. “You showed me that I didn’t need them. I could do better than what they had to offer. I told you, I trust you, and when you said I was worth more, I believed that.”

  I smiled and rolled my eyes. “Look, you don’t need to be any cockier than you already are,” I began, placing my hand on his tight chest, “but you’re right. I’m glad you stood up to them.”

  He grinned. “I’m glad you approve.”

  Kneading my fingers into the fabric of his shirt, I pulled him closer. “So what now?”

  “Dunno,” he said, voice barely a whisper as our bodies inched closer. “I figured maybe we could continue my training.”

  My body caught fire at the suggestion, feeling a deep pull toward him from inside me. But no, he made the suggestion, and therefore was calling the shots. “I don’t know,” I answered breathily. “You stood me up last night. I had to take a cab home. Not exactly behavior befitting a submissive.”

  His eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I thought I’d make it up—”

  “Punishment comes before training, Dirty Playboy. On your knees.”

  Without a word, Aston dropped to the ground.

  I raked my hands through his messy bangs and gently yanked back, turning his face toward me. His expression was rapt. “How did you know to come here?”

  He patted his back pocket. “Deed to the car listed this as your place of employment.”

  I stroked his jaw, leaving a smudge of grease, marking him. “Why did you disobey your family?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I told you, because I could do better.”

  I slapped him across the face. He looked stunned, but not upset. He waited patiently for my explanation.

  “First of all, family is important, and while they treated you like shit, there’s no replacing them. When you leave here today, you make amends. Don’t crawl, grovel, or go back to working for them, but the fuck my family attitude doesn’t fly with me. I don’t have family—you’d do well to be grateful.”

  He nodded.

  “Secondly, you didn’t address me as Mistress.”

  “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

  “And thirdly, you need to be more respectful to me.”

  He nodded.

  I lowered myself to my knees, level with him. “I’m proud of you asserting your independence, but you’re still a spoiled brat.”

  He nodded. “Yes, Mistress, although I’m fairly certain you like my cockiness. And you like that I need punishing.”

  Swallowing hard, I nodded and tried to keep his hazel eyes from hypnotizing me. “All true,” I said. “You are a wayward, naughty thing.”

  “I am,” he whispered, eyes begging me, pleading.

  I swallowed hard, wanting him so badly, but a nagging feeling caught in the back of my throat told me to slow down. “I’m going to Vegas soon. I may stay there.”

  His eyes, once pleading, suddenly blazed with emotion. “What?”

  “What, Mistress,” I corrected.

  He nodded. “You’re moving?”

  “Maybe,” I said, backing away from him and leaning up against the car. “I’m going to be in a pinup pageant. It’s a great city for models like me. Lots of work.”

  Aston ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back the way it was when I met him. He stood, suddenly going from submissive right back to the cocky playboy I knew he was. “How about I go with you?”

  I pushed myself up onto the hood so that I was sitting, because I thought my knees were going to give out. “What do you mean?”

  Aston took a possessive step toward me. “I told you I’ve always wanted to open my own restaurant out there. And I’m looking for a fresh start, too. This could be what we both need.”

  Need. I didn’t think I needed anyone right now. I’d plucked Derek off like a tick, and I didn’t want to have to rely on Sarah. Would my newfound resolve be caving if I allowed myself the company of someone else? I didn’t know if I needed Aston for a life change, but I did know one way I needed him, at least for now.

  Folding my legs and wrapping my arms around them, I thought for a moment before answering. I was stuck between Domme mode and just being a shocked, lonely girl. How should I answer?

  “I’m not suggesting we shack up,” he said, looking me up and down predatorily. “I’m just saying maybe we take Johnny on a little road trip. Get to know each other better. Learn a few lessons. Then, once we get there, figure out what the hell we’re both doing with our lives.” Aston laughed, but kept his eyes locked on me. He was making light of it, but I knew he wanted this.

  I sat up and grabbed his collar, pulling him on top of me. I unfolded my legs and wrapped them around his waist. He was hard already. I ground myself against him and yanked his head toward mine. “I’ll think about it,” I whispered.

  Aston did not hesitate; he kissed me deeply, probing my mouth with his wet, needy tongue. Soon I was pulling off his tight tee shirt and his hands had slunk up my tank, where he roughly palmed my breasts. I could feel his erection slowly grinding against me and I felt the seam of my jeans rubbing my clit in time with his motions. I was loving how aggressive he was being, but at the same time, I wondered where his submissive nature had gone.

  I’d ask later. This felt too good.

  I gasped for breath as Aston shoved my tank above my breasts and began tonguing my nipple. His eyes looked up at me, locked in my gaze, as his warm mouth sucked hard on my tit. One of Aston’s hands had slipped itself between our clashing hips, and he undid the top button of my jeans. I felt myself sliding off the hood as he yanked my jeans—panties and all—down my hips. As soon as they were around my knees, Aston slipped his fingers inside me. His thumb rubbed a frantic circle on my clit as his pointer and middle finger plunged into my pussy.

  “Aston,” I groaned. He smiled at me wickedly, assuming full-on playboy mode as he aggressively worked me. Wondering if he was like this with other women, I laced my hands behind my head and watched as one hand brought me to the brink and the other undid his fly.

  “Flip over, Mistress,” he said, voice hoarse with need. My body had a mind of its own, and soon I was facedown on the hood of the car as my jeans were dragged off each leg one at a time. Legs spread, I gripped the rim of where the hood meets the windshield. I wiggled my ass, beckoning him to me. I needed it hard, fast, and right fucking now.

  I heard a clang as his belt buckle collided with the hood, and soon I could feel his tip pressing into me.

  “May I?”

  I panted. “Only if you’re blindfolded. I don’t like how alpha you’re being,” I answered. I mean, I was enjoying the enthusiasm but he still needed to be put into his place.

  “How’s this?” he asked, untying the kerchief headband that was holding my rollers in place. He wound it around his eyes. I fastened it carefully, bent back over, and positioned his tip at my entrance, since he couldn’t see.

  “Oh god, yes,” I grunted as he slammed into me. One of his hands gripped my hip as the other splayed out on the car’s hood for leverage. My toes curled inside my shoes as he plunged into me hard and pulled out slow. He was thrusting and teasing. I loved both sensations; the aching need as he pulled out, the rough satisfaction of the powerful inward stroke.

  “I wish I could see you, Mistress,” he whispered hoarsely.

  Desire overpowered Aston, and
what initially was a thoughtful, planned-out seduction became frantic humping. I backed my ass up a bit, more leaning on the hood rather than being sprawled on it, and Aston placed his hands on my hips, positively rutting into me. Aston moved one hand between us and his thumb circled my ass and I squealed in unexpected pleasure.

  “You like that?” he asked as my body continued to respond approvingly.

  “Yes,” I moaned, glancing backward to see his blindfolded face’s pleasure.

  “Next time,” he promised, then thrust harder. The angle was so deep, the friction so desperate, and the moans so bestial and out of control that soon we were both coming hard, screaming in ecstasy.

  Aston pulled out and collapsed against me with a sigh. I sighed, too, and ruffled his damp hair. We stayed like that for a long moment, just amused and sweaty and sort of taken aback by the whole thing. A minute later, I could hear him pulling up his jeans. I demurely slid my panties back on and checked the bumper for a scratch from his belt. Aston undid his blindfold and gently handed it back to me. “We’re going to have to christen Johnny sometime soon, don’t you think?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “Maybe,” I said, my eyes meeting his. “You know you overpaid by like an extra six figures, right?” I said, confessing my discomfort at just how crazy the auction ended up being. I didn’t want him to feel like I ripped him off, but he had to know that the value wasn’t exactly spot-on. “Johnny’s an expensive ride, but you way overbid.”

  He shook his head. “I knew the value of what I was getting, Veronika. An extra hundred grand or two wasn’t going to deter me.”

  I swallowed hard and tried to regain my composure. “Well then. What now?”

  “Road trip?” he asked, sliding the tee over his head. He fixed his hair and looked me squarely in the eyes.

  I shrugged. While the sex just now was as equally incredible as the first time, it was still a bit too alpha, even with the blindfold. “I said I’ll think about it.”

  Aston looked at me like I was crazy while I dressed. I stayed silent and buffed out the tiny scratch the bumper got from his, well, bumping.

  “So?”

  I tsked at him. “Aston. First of all, you scuffed a customer’s car. Secondly, that sex was decidedly not submissive.”

  He pursed his lips. “I’m used to getting what I want. And I wanted you.”

  I frowned. “You said you wanted me to train you, and I said I was going to punish you, then you fucked me on the hood of a customer’s car.”

  Aston inhaled and exhaled. “I do like the submissive stuff, and I definitely think you still have every right to punish me. But does it always have to be that way? I’m new to this. And you seemed to want it as much as I did.”

  He was right, but I wasn’t ready to admit it. “I think we need to set some ground rules,” I replied. “Before the trip.”

  His eyes widened. “So is that a yes?”

  I pretended to be fascinated by the grease on my nails. “Maybe. If we leave tomorrow, think we can drive out there in two weeks?”

  Aston nodded. “I’ll start putting a route together and making some calls about hotel availabilities.”

  My heart was thundering in my chest, stunned that I’d made such a quick decision. But he was right—it wasn’t a commitment. We both wanted to be in Vegas, and if the road trip didn’t go as well as it could, we didn’t have to stay together once we got there.

  It was a road trip. A potentially very sexy road trip. How could I say no?

  “I’ll get a Domme/sub checklist at home. Then pack.”

  This didn’t seem to faze Aston, who nodded with a grin. “Great. I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow morning?”

  I smiled back. “Seven o’clock. And I’ll pack us some kinky goodies for the drive.”

  Then we’d be hitting more than just the pavement.

  WHEN I GOT HOME, I was surprised to see Sarah standing right in front of the door, fifteen-pound weights in each hand, doing lunges. Her face was red with effort and her body soaked with sweat. I swear, this girl never took time off.

  “Where have you been?” she asked as I shut the door. “I skipped a Tabata class just to hear about your bonerfest last night!”

  I shrugged nonchalantly. “Hmm, where have I been? Just the gym, my garage, and on the hood of a car.”

  Sarah finished another lunge and put the weights on the floor. She danced her way over to the kitchen table and plopped down. “Dish.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to figure out where to start. “Yesterday I sold Derek’s car to a hot restaurateur who led me to believe he was a sub looking for a Domme. He bought a date with me along with the car, then we went to a wedding and had crazy bondage sex in a boathouse.”

  Sarah’s mouth unhinged and I thought she was going to swallow her tongue. “You are fucking with me right now!”

  “Oh, you’d know if I were fucking you.”

  Her mouth dropped open even wider. “Listen to you! Keep going! Especially about the hood of the car!”

  I nodded. “Right. Last night didn’t end the way I wanted it to, so Aston showed up at the shop to make it up to me.”

  “And that’s how you ended up on the hood?”

  “Yep,” I said, nearly blushing. I wished I could keep the blood from my cheeks. I couldn’t blush in front of an experienced Domme. I had to act like I was on equal footing, but the reality was that I was at the bottom of her Stairmaster. “Which brings me to something else.” My heart skittered in my chest. I didn’t want to have to tell her I was moving out, but it was necessary.

  “Yeah?” she asked, leaning forward, intense.

  “Well, I’ve been invited to participate as a finalist in the Miss Pinup Las Vegas contest, and—”

  “That’s great!”

  “I’m not done,” I interrupted. Sarah frowned, since she was typically the one who led conversations. “Anyway, Aston wants to open a restaurant in Vegas. So we’re road tripping it.”

  Sarah looked surprisingly thoughtful. “Okay, I get that you two are having a little thing, and that’s great, but are you sure you want to just jump into a D/s relationship? Do you even know him?”

  “Well, we’re sort of learning as we go. And I met a few members of his family last night, and we’re getting to know each other.” I wasn’t going to elaborate on how I was received by his family.

  She shook her head. “I’m not so sure it’s a good idea. Wait, if he wants to start a restaurant out there, is this just a fling?”

  There it was; she was catching on. “Now that I have some money from selling Johnny, I was thinking about moving out there for a while. It’s a great place filled with jobs for pinups. I was thinking of—”

  “You’re moving across the country with some guy you don’t even know?” The whipcrack in her voice meant Sergeant Sarah was back.

  Sighing, I held my hand up. “We’re not moving in together, just driving—”

  “And you’re just going to leave everything? Your business, your friends?”

  I noted she didn’t say family. At least she spared me that hurt. “If I don’t like it, I’ll come back. I just need to try something new with my life. Same with Aston—he wants to open up a restaurant of his own. His cooking sounds really fantastic.”

  Sarah sighed, but her face remained stern. “He’s a chef, Veronika. You get pissed at me when I bring you an egg-white sandwich! He’ll be cooking nonstop and you’ll be freaking out! This is a recipe for disaster.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You’re seriously trying to argue that dating a guy in the food industry is going to cause me to gain weight?”

  She stood. “You have food issues, Veronika. I’ve been trying to help you get over them, but full immersion in a life with this guy is going to challenge that. This seems like a really bad idea, especially with the pageant on the line.” />
  I pushed my chair from the table, stood, and looked Sarah squarely in the eyes. “Then help me.”

  Her brows knit. “How?”

  My hands flew into the air, confused and frustrated. “I don’t know, text me daily Domme tips. Send me a workout a day to balance whatever the hell he’s having me eat! Just do what you’re good at, and be my friend.”

  Sarah’s face softened as she stood. “You really like him, huh?”

  I nodded.

  She clasped my shoulder. “I want you to be happy. I also want you to beat his ass into submission. So of course I’ll help.”

  I stood outside the door to my apartment building with trepidation. Sarah said she’d text me daily advice, but not much else. Despite her tough exterior, she was a softie and I knew she’d miss me. It felt good to have someone back here that would. She helped me bring my bags downstairs and gave me a not-so-gentle hug. Those skinny-muscled arms of hers were like a vise.

  “Just be careful,” she said with a sad look, and disappeared back inside the building.

  Be careful. Of what? Of Aston? Of my waistline? I knew Sarah had a good heart and was just looking out for me, but she represented the old part of my life. I was an orphan, and she and Derek both took me in. But I was ready to be on my own.

  I glanced down at my bags in wonder. How is it that I could pack my life into a few pieces of luggage and a Betsey Johnson purse? My makeup and hair tools alone fit into one, but the rest was the only evidence of my life. Sure, I had a box of stuff still inside the apartment that I’d asked Sarah to ship once I got settled—if that ever happened—but the rest of it fit neatly in my hot-pink suitcases. Clothes, a few pictures, a set of mechanic’s tools, and a pile of shoes. My life, zipped up.

  Oh, and of course, a few goodies I forgot to give back to Sarah. She won’t miss a little rope and some tape, right? She can consider it payment for making me do midnight Pilates last week.