Maxine had no doubt that rooms didn’t come cheaply, but she much preferred the sophistication of their mainstay at the Ritz. However, she wasn’t there to enjoy the art or the amenities provided. No, Maxine was simply there to fuck her husband. Immediately.
She could hear Drew mumbling in French at the front desk. All the while, Maxine tried to make herself as invisible as possible, given the state of her appearance—the completely mussed hair and the smudges of lipstick surrounding her mouth.
Summoning her toward him with one finger, Drew took control once again. Now, they were no longer husband and wife but had returned to being strangers in Paris. Oh, this game was so confusing…yet so enthralling.
In his hand, he held the key, and Maxine wavered through the lobby toward him. They had no baggage, so there was no need for a bellhop in that rather tiny elevator. However, Drew remained in his corner, aloof, and Maxine did the same.
The room, just a few steps down the hallway on the fourth floor, seemed to be some sort of modern Japanese cabin in the woods with its paneled walls and silkscreened bedspread that almost resembled an ink blot test. The red carpeting and velvet drapes, however, took her back to her grandmother’s house. While contemporary in theme, the space left Maxine a bit nonplussed. However, they were simply there to play. Convenience was all that mattered.
The early evening light filtered through the sheers, and Drew was quick to draw those heavy drapes, pulling them together with a fierce heave before he jumped on the bed and leaned back on the stack of pillows.
“Strip,” he commanded.
Taking her spot squarely at the center of the foot of the bed, Maxine reached for the buttons that began at her shoulder. She worked until the front of her dress was completely open—with her bare breasts, the lace girdle and panties and even the dew dripping down to her thighs on display for his viewing pleasure.
Drew was already unzipping his jeans, and her nipples were nearly hurting, aching to be touched, as she watched him. “Shoulders back, Miss Merryweather,” he directed, then crossed his arms. “And what about the rest of that outfit?”
“Sorry, Mr. Mack,” she said, slowly unclipping one garter, then the other. The lace overlay skidded down her body. She then slipped her hands inside the panties to maneuver them down her hips, and booted them away with her high heeled feet.
“Come here,” he ordered her. “Now.”
Head bowed, she climbed upon the bed, bracing herself on all fours, then began to crawl with the utmost leisure right over his legs. She stopped just short of his cock, which she wanted to take into her mouth all over again.
Then his hands grabbed for her, and his mouth claimed hers, exploring the taste of that back alley blowjob still fresh upon her lips.
Struggling against him, she tore at his sweater, endeavoring to pull it off, but he fought her momentarily just for sport. He loved to wrestle with her, and it served as a reminder that while she might be sitting on top of him, he still maintained full control.
When at last he relented, she still couldn’t tear her lips away from his as she tussled with the soft cashmere. A gentle shove was necessary to allow him the chance to divest himself of the garment. Yet once his mouth returned to hers, he couldn’t resist a few delicate bites of those plump lips while he kicked his shoes away from his feet, the heavy leather loafers hitting the floor with a bang.
“My jeans…” he reminded her. “Take them off…”
Readily, she reached for his open waistband and dared to dip her head to suckle the head of his cock, but his hands were just as quick to find her hair, jerking her away. “I asked you to remove my jeans,” he snapped. “I don’t take well to disobedience, Miss Merryweather…”
With his threat weighing upon her thoughts, she did as she was told. Just as she’d managed to pull his jeans down and away, he lifted her chin to look sharply into her eyes. “What happens to bad girls?”
“They get punished, Mr. Mack.”
“Over my lap, and I’ll show you what a punishment is…”
She’d never moved so quickly in her life, so thrilled with this unexpected gift of pleasure and pain. Once she’d settled, right over his smooth cock that poked against her belly, she wiggled against the tickle of his fingers as they swept over her bare bottom, readying her.
“Now, I don’t know what your other Master has taught you,” he began, “but you are not to come until I’m finished reprimanding you. Understand?”
“Yes, Mr. Mack!” she groaned, wondering what implement he could possibly find in this hotel room.
But he didn’t keep her guessing for long. “Ten cracks…you count.”
“Of course, Mr. Mack…”
Oh, his hand! It had been so long since he’d just given her a good old fashioned spanking, and Maxine was certain that his palm had to sting from that first swat.
“Ohhhhhh, one!” she cried out, wondering how the fuck she was going to make it to ten with his cock straining beneath her.
Two, three and four were just as painful, and she could feel the heat spanning over her sore skin. But she craved more…even as she grappled with him and begged him to stop. That, too, was all just a part of their game.
With his fifth crack, Maxine called out, “Green!”
“You know, you started out so well today, Miss Merryweather,” he said, his nails skimming over the prints of his own hand upon her. “Then you just had to go and misbehave…”
He whacked her once again.
“Six…” she moaned, and held her breath for a moment, hoping to calm herself just enough to hold off until ten. “Oh, no more! Hurts, Mr. Mack!”
“That’s the point of punishment…”
“Seven!”
It was then that she realized why he’d only promised her ten cracks. Usually, he varied his strength with corporal punishments, but that night, he was testing the waters again, with each strike of his hand just a bit heavier than the last. And Maxine found herself dazed once more by her own arousal amidst the intensity.
“Only bad girls pick up strangers off the street and offer blowjobs in back alleys,” he continued to harangue her. “But you loved it so much that you couldn’t wait to come…just like right now…”
“Ouuuuuch! Eight…”
“Oh, did that hurt?” he asked, his voice full of patronization, his question rhetorical. “Maybe this next one will just numb your ass and you won’t even feel the final blow…”
He wasn’t kidding. In fact, Maxine even lurched in his lap as his hand came down over her again. Oh, it had been far too long since he used his bare hand on her. She so missed the sting.
“Fuck…nine!” Just one more and she could enjoy the release she so greedily coveted.
“Perhaps I should wait a minute here,” he said, stalling just to watch her squirm. There was nothing he enjoyed more than seeing her in those moments right before he decided to allow her to come—clawing and scratching and fighting against her own body to hold herself together. “Give you some time to gather your courage for this last little strike.”
“Ugggggh!” she groaned into the mattress.
“And some time to think about your infractions,” he went on, stroking his fingers along the welts on her pale skin. There had to be some sort of lotion in the bathroom, he reasoned, as he wouldn’t be able to tend to her with diaper cream until they headed back to the Ritz. And the night was still so very young.
“Are you pondering your faults, Miss Merryweather?” he asked.
“I picked up a stranger…and…and I blew him in a dark alley, Mr. Mack,” she sputtered. “Mmm…and I liked it…”
“Almost as much as you like this spanking,” he prompted her.
Wiggling again in anticipation, she was quick to say, “Oh, yes, indeed, Mr. Mack…”
“And what else did you do?”
“I wanted him to fuck me right there…with the garbage—but I…ohhhhhh…” So damn close, but so very far away. “Oh, please…”
“Having some difficulties there?” He placed his hand right over one of the imprints and gently pressed his fingers into her warm flesh. “And what do you want right now? Aside from permission to come?”
“Want you to…” All she could think about was that tingle between her legs. “I want you to spank me again…please…Kind S…I mean…Mr. Mack…”
“So confused, aren’t you?” he wondered out loud. “Do you want me to go easy on you?”
“Oh, nooo!” Of that, she was certain.
“Oh, nooo, who?”
“Mr. Mack…please?”
“Forgetting your manners left and right here…oh, Miss Merryweather, I think there’s little hope for you…”
“Spanking…come…please…Mr. Mack…”
Delirious. That’s how he adored her most. So lost, not just in her own desires but in her adoration for him.
True submission didn’t befall contracts or quick encounters. She loved him, first and foremost, and she savored his pain. As the notion of their kinky love sometimes baffled them both, they discovered this need to give and receive in each other.
And with that he laid his hand upon her one last time for the evening.
“TEN…”
“Come…!”
There was no wait nor pause as he pulled her up…and around…and positioned her perfectly right above the head of his cock. While he held her hips, easing her down to take him, she clung to his shoulders, her nails piercing his skin as she allowed gratification to consume her fully.
However, he delighted in nothing more than pushing her as far as he could absolutely take her. He wanted her to have more.
As she fell into his rhythm, riding him like that fucking carousel horse, he called out to her, “Touch yourself…now…”
“Ohhhhhhh…”
“I said…now…” He reached for her wrists, placing one hand on her breast and the other between her legs, then grabbed hold of her waist to steady her as she continued to writhe around his cock.
“Don’t just rub …be rough with yourself…pull on your clit for me…”
“Ehhhh…!” she wailed, and tugged at her breast with equal aggression, ready to rip her nipple away from her own body, as she pinched her swollen center.
“Show me how harsh you like it, Miss Merryweather,” he challenged. “Spank your little clit like I spanked your ass…”
Oh, that sting as she swatted her own hand between her legs—she couldn’t spank herself hard enough! And every single strike just enhanced the lingering orgasm that swelled through her. Only Drew’s hand laying down upon her could possibly bring her to a higher plateau, but he was too busy watching…and helping her keep her balance while she fucked him so very hard.
“Such a good girl,” he grunted. “Maybe I should let you spank yourself from now on…”
“Nooooo!” she wailed. “You…need you…”
Slamming her hips against his upward thrust, Maxine knew he was in a hurry. He wanted her quick and dirty, and Maxine was more than happy to oblige him.
“Fuck…!” his voice bellowed as he pulled her toward him. It was one long shuddering moment before they allowed themselves to collapse, both fighting to extend every last second of their enthrallment.
“You’re the best, little one…” His hand caressing the small of her back as his nose nuzzled into the crook of her neck, he whispered, “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head against his chest. “No, Kind Sir, you did not.”
And then his fingers smoothed over her warm, speckled ass. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Falling backward to share the pillow with him, she took a deep breath. “Didn’t do that either…”
“That was just beautiful, little one,” he whispered. “From start to finish.”
“Someone yelled at us.”
“He was just jealous,” Drew smiled, his fingers tickling over her mouth. “And who wouldn’t be with these lips wrapped around my cock?”
Stretching out, she circled her arms around him as tightly as she could. They were in no rush, and she thrilled in those tender moments of afterglow.
“It’s that cock that always gets me into trouble…”
“Don’t blame my dick for your own little indiscretions, Sassypants.”
It was so glorious to lie in bed with her and laugh. Just holding Maxine in his arms and sharing a few soft but bawdy chuckles in the darkness were the greatest intimacies he’d ever known.
“May I ask you something?”
“Anything, little one,” he said quickly. “I’m an open book for you.”
“You had this all planned out, didn’t you?” she accused. “Right down to this hotel room?”
“Of course, I did,” he admitted. “You know there’s always a method to my madness. But fuck, was that hot.”
“Alright…I have to know,” she continued on, her fingers tapping at his nipples while she smiled up into those mischievous blue eyes. “How the hell did you find that alleyway?”
“Let’s just say that when you must stay with Adam McKenzie on a family vacation, he could find any sordid little out-of-the-way corner to engage in all sorts of behaviors that are illegal in many countries around the globe.”
“He smoked pot back there, didn’t he?” Maxine couldn’t fight her laughter.
“I swore that I would stick to his story and that he did not inhale…” Drew crossed his heart, conjuring the Clinton years. “Nor did he have sex with that woman…later that night…when Mom and Dad thought he was in bed.”
“There are some things about your brother that I probably shouldn’t be privy to,” Maxine noted. “Especially now that one of my best friends happens to be pregnant with his child!”
“I don’t think Jillian would be surprised.”
“Oh, I don’t think so either,” Maxine agreed. “He just better not smoke that stuff in front of our little niece or nephew!”
“Nah, he gave it up years ago,” Drew assured her. “That’s why he loves his beer now.”
Only a few minutes had passed before Maxine had fallen asleep—not of exhaustion, but of calm. Nothing lulled her into slumber like the even beat of Drew’s heart tapping against her ear. That sweet sound, coupled with their closeness, pacified her into a complete state of relaxation.
Her nap was a light one, and she could feel the backs of his fingers caressing her cheek and the brush of his lips against her temple. He’d even pulled the blanket around her, draping her with the luxurious downy folds.
When at last she’d awakened, Maxine thought they might just go for another round. However, Drew did have other plans for them that evening.
“Your change of clothes is waiting for you in the bathroom,” he told her just as she opened her eyes. “But let me put some lotion on that ass first, alright?”
“You say that as if I have a choice,” Maxine teased. “And do those plans involve my NSM app?”
Drew shook his head. “No, Maxine, I had something a bit more romantic in mind for tonight.”
“Punishments can be romantic,” she reminded him, stretching out to kiss his lips. “If you have a Kind Sir like I do…”
“Come on, little one…” he said, giving her a little nudge. “The city awaits…”
# # #
“Back again?” Maxine asked as they strolled arm-in-arm beneath the Eiffel Tower once more.
“My mother always said that one needs to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower twice during every trip to Paris—once by day and once by night,” Drew said, looking upward into the lights that sparkled brighter than even the tree at Rockefeller Center at Christmas. “I think that’s a bit excessive, but I think you should definitely see it at night…”
“We’ll eventually see it by day,” Maxine pulled him closer.
“Yeah, little one, I have a feeling we’ll be back a few times over the years…”
That night, she just felt like newlyweds. There was just the two of them. They had no worries or concerns but for each o
ther. The rest of the world just simply didn’t exist.
“Bonsoir, Madame, parlez-vous anglais?” Drew said, stepping up to the ticket booth. He was too jet lagged to trust his French. In fact, the concierge at the Bellechasse even had a good laugh over his attempt at basic conversation. “Two tickets, please…”
Flashing the passes before Maxine’s eyes, he smiled triumphantly. “For you, Madame…”
“Will you kiss me now?” she said, tugging at his sweater.
“Not til we get to the top, little one…” he said, pulling her along toward the elevator.
There were only a few people waiting that night, and they’d actually made it into the car without having to stand for long. However, once inside, that look of panic that Drew now knew all too well cloaked his darling wife’s face.
Maxine’s one great phobia in life was riding in glass elevators. As soon as the car started to move, the fear fell forth into her words. “I feel like we’re going up at an angle!”
Without further comment, Drew turned her away from the view and positioned her toward the elevator door. Then, without further thought, he placed his hands right over her eyes.
Kissing the top of her head, he whispered, “Better, sweets?”
Her sigh of relief was the answer for which he’d hoped. “I should marry a guy like you, Mr. Mack…”
“That’s lovely of you, Miss Merryweather,” he said, lips daring to drift down to her neck. “And maybe I should marry a girl like you…”
He did his best to keep her distracted on the short ride to the second level. Although she’d reassured him that she’d be fine once they reached the top, he was prepared to leave just as quickly as they came. No view in the world was more important than Maxine’s contentment. If they never made it to the top of the Eiffel Tower, he didn’t care.
However, even when the elevator stopped, he didn’t remove his hands. He continued to lead her to a second elevator on the inside of the structure, which would take them to the top.
“Gonna ever take the blindfold off?” Maxine wondered as he settled her into the second car.
KNOTTED: The Manhattan Bound Series, Book Three Page 32