by Lexi Blake
“Beat it, Logan,” Stef growled as he got close enough to be heard. His dick didn’t care who was more age appropriate. “Go find Hope and bug her.”
Hope was the new receptionist at the Sheriff’s Office. Logan spent an enormous amount of his time flirting with the slightly older woman.
Logan’s eyes flared briefly, but he seemed to get the point. He headed straight to the bar.
“Very friendly,” Jen said, shaking her head at him.
A nasty impulse clutched at his gut. He took Jennifer by the arm and led her down the narrow hallway toward the small office Zane kept.
“Hey, I thought we were heading home,” she protested as she struggled to keep up with him.
“I have a few things to say to you that can’t wait.” He punched in the code for the door and the lock gave way. It was a good thing Zane was so predictable. Callie’s birthday was something he knew by heart.
“Don’t,” Jennifer said softly as he closed the door behind her.
They were locked in together. He couldn’t miss how intimate the tiny room was. It was the first time he’d gotten her alone since she’d been back. No, it was the first time he’d allowed himself to be alone with her. He was in control. She was an artist he liked. She was too talented to be allowed to waste it all. That was why he was here. That was why he had gone to Dallas.
Then why had he bought her flowers on that day when she’d left? A little voice was sighing in his head. Why had he been ready to apologize and ask to start over? Why had he told Lana he couldn’t see her anymore? Why hadn’t he been to the BDSM club in Denver in months? Why had he turned down invitations to play parties?
Stef hated that fucking voice.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He turned on her, though the small room didn’t allow much distance between them.
“I am begging you not to do this,” she said, her fists clenched at her sides. “I am trying to get along with you. I’m trying to be understanding.”
“Really? What are you trying to understand, love?”
“Why you act like such an ass,” she said and then groaned. “See, I did not mean to say that. I meant to be sweet.”
“Tell me something, did you mean to drape yourself all over James Glen?” Stef felt his hands twitching. She was so close. He could smell her. She’d taken a shower at some point, and her hair smelled like citrus. God, he loved that smell. She always smelled sweet, with a hint of bite underneath. She was a juicy grapefruit who needed a spoonful of sugar. His cock ached. He was so hard he could pound nails.
Her eyes became wide orbs in the low light. “What are you talking about? I never touched him. He was being friendly.”
“No, he wasn’t. He was being horny.” There had been nothing at all friendly about the way James Glen’s hand had been ready to cup her ass. It had been a prelude to an invitation to go back to his ranch where he would have done any and all manner of nasty things to her. James Glen had been looking for a lover for the night. Stef should know. He was desperate as hell, too. Why had he brought her back here? It was too quiet and intimate.
“Well, good for him. Maybe I should take him on. It’s been a long time for me,” Jen snarled. Her foot stomped at the floor, her face blushing in frustration. “Damn it. Stop it, Stef. Stop it now. You’re making me say things I don’t want to say.”
“I’m not making you do anything.” This was what he needed. He needed a good fight to remind him why she was a bad idea. She was a brat who always tried to push him. She’d tried anything and everything to get her way. Maybe now she was trying to make him jealous. It was working. “You were the one making a spectacle of yourself. You were the one flirting. Tell me something. Is your taste in men really that bad? James has fucked just about every girl in southern Colorado. You want to be next in that long line?”
Her face flushed, her eyes narrowing to angry slits. Her mouth opened, and he knew venom was about to spew out of that pretty mouth of hers. Then it closed. Her shoulders relaxed, and her hands went, shockingly, to the waistband of her pants. He watched in a mixture of abject horror and rampaging desire as she pushed her jeans over her hips and presented that gorgeous ass to him.
“How many, Sir?” Her voice was calm, but there was a throaty, aroused quality he couldn’t mistake.
He coughed. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t find air to breathe in. Her palms were pressed against the wall, her ass thrust out and prepared for the slap of his hand. She was a bit awkward, but her presentation was close to perfect. Everything about her called to him, and he wasn’t sure he could refuse the invitation.
Those twin globes were beautifully round and juicy. There were two perfect dimples above her ass, calling to him to kiss the skin there. The line dividing her cheeks was a sweet arrow leading to her pussy. Of their own volition, his hands moved out to caress her ass. Her skin was soft and hot against his fingers.
“Ten,” he heard himself say. Ten smacks. Two for letting James Glen touch her. Two for smiling at Logan. Six for leaving him. Even as he thought it, he knew he wasn’t being fair. Nothing about this was fair. His brain felt fried. The only thing he could see was her soft, white flesh. She was ready for him. She was submitting to him.
“Yes, Sir. I’ll count.” Her voice was breathy and deep.
She was manipulating him. There was zero doubt in his mind and he also knew that it was going to work. This was much more effective than yelling at him.
Her jeans were around her knees. They were skinny jeans, tight when she wore them, and they formed a near perfect binding now. She couldn’t move freely. Her legs were tied together as surely as if he’d wound a rope around them. If he shoved his cock in, it would be tight, so tight. He would have to fight his way in. Thrusting would be hard. He would have to force his dick in and then grind in a slow circle until she moaned and he felt her pussy vibrate around him, sucking at him, milking his cock. Then he could let go. He would come until he had nothing left. He would grind into her until he was dry and she was full, the exchange complete between them.
Fuck, he didn’t want to wear a condom with her. He hadn’t the first time and didn’t want to now. He wanted to fill her up with nothing in between them. His cock was obsessed with getting inside her bareback. He couldn’t do this. This wasn’t some sub he was training. This was Jennifer. He couldn’t send her away at the end of the weekend. He had to see her every day.
Stef tried to take a step back, his thighs coming in sharp contact with Zane’s desk.
“Is there something wrong, Sir?” She hadn’t moved from her position, but her head was turned as she attempted to look at him. “Did you change your mind? I did spend some time with the doctor. Maybe I tried to seduce him, too.”
It was the smile on her face that did it.
He reached out and picked up the ruler on Zane’s desk. It was flexible metal with a corked back. He tested it against his palm and then brought it down on her ass.
Jen gasped. Her body stiffened for a moment. He waited for her to get back up and tell him to go to hell.
“One,” was all she said.
His cock felt like it was trying to claw its way out of his pants. The ruler in his hand felt good, but something was off. “This is wrong.”
Now she stood, a fine sheen of moisture in her eyes. “No, Stef, don’t stop. I want it. I like it. This isn’t some lifestyle I want to live, but I love to play with you.”
He turned quickly, looking for what he needed. Earbuds. They were connected to Zane’s laptop, but he easily removed them. She wasn’t where he’d left her. “Did I tell you to move? That’s two more. Now, give me your hands.”
She turned, hopping because her jeans were caught at her knees. “Sure, let me get out of these.”
“Two more for questioning me, love,” Stef said with great pleasure. Ten had been far too easy, but Jennifer seemed determined to give him more. She didn’t seem to fear him at all.
Her mouth opened, then closed, and she held her
wrists out to him without another protest. He wound the earbuds’ plastic wire around her wrists, palms together. He worked quickly, winding it in a pattern that would restrict her movement but not damage her nerves in any way. Now that he was tying her up, a sense of calm, almost fatalistic acceptance had come over him. He should walk out the door, but he couldn’t. He needed her. He’d never needed another woman the way he did her. She’d haunted his dreams since the day he met her.
She was an addiction, and he was going to fall off the wagon for the night.
“I like the way those jeans keep your legs together. They make a good binding.” He picked her up and moved her to the desk. “Lean over, put your hands out, chest against the desk, ass in the air. I owe you some discipline, love.”
Discipline. Even saying the word made his cock jump. Saying the word while he contemplated Jennifer’s gorgeous ass had his breath ragged. He had to remember to stay in control.
She did as he asked, sliding seductively against the desk. Her eyes were hot as she craned her neck to look up at him. “Is that all you owe me, Sir?”
He brought the ruler down on her perfect ass. A pretty line of pink formed, and her flesh quivered. He owed her so much more than a spanking. “What else do you want, Jennifer? What else should I give a bratty submissive who doesn’t know her place?”
A couple of hours at his feet might start to satisfy the Dom in him. She could kneel at his feet in the studio while he painted. When he needed to relax, he’d open his pants, and she would suck his cock. Otherwise, she would sit there, and he could stroke her while he worked.
A slow smile crossed her face, like a cat who had found the most perfect cream. “Where’s my place, Stef?”
Beside him, underneath him, with him always. But he would never let her know that. He wanted something she couldn’t give him. He wanted something that wasn’t fair for him to ask of her. He was a selfish bastard. If he had his way, she wouldn’t have a career at all, and she was far too talented for that. Tonight was all he could allow himself. “This is your place. Right here. Right now. Bound and waiting for me.”
He brought the ruler down in short arcs, spreading the spanking all across her gorgeous ass. He counted in his head because he didn’t want to hear the sound of his voice. He preferred the breathy, desperate gasps and moans that escaped her lips. She was trying so hard to hold still for him. Her chest hitched, and her ass swayed as though anticipating the next stroke. He slowed down after stroke number five. Anticipation was part of the game.
Her skin was pink and perfect. No welts, just a nice, hot color. By the time he reached eight, her head was pressed to the desk and not a single snappy remark had come out of her mouth. She simply whimpered, and the sound went straight to his cock.
“I didn’t like that rancher’s hand on your ass, love,” he explained as he put his own hand on her warm flesh.
“Yes, Stef,” she said, a dreamy quality to her voice.
She was so submissive when it came to this. She would rail and rage at him outside of sex, but she was a kitten when he got her pants off. The combination was intoxicating. “No more ranchers. He wouldn’t understand you anyway.”
“Yes, Stef.”
That’s what he wanted. Yes, Stef.
His hand moved up and down, the ruler snapping back after each tap. He rained down on her until he was perfectly satisfied that she was on the edge. Her breathing was choppy, and she was trying to clutch the front of Zane’s desk with her bound hands.
Stef stopped. What was he doing? He’d lost count. He wasn’t sure how many he’d given her. Damn it. He never lost count. He was shaking as much as she was, his breath sputtering in and out of his chest. He’d come close to losing control. He could have hurt her. He hadn’t even talked about her safe word. Had he hurt her?
“Are you okay?” he heard himself ask, though he was afraid of her answer.
“No, damn it. I am not okay.” She pounded her bound hands on the desk.
His heart felt like it would fall out. This was one of the reasons he’d stayed away from her. He couldn’t keep himself in check around her.
Jen made no attempt to get up. She wiggled her ass, pressing her legs even closer together. “Look what you did. I ache. I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me, I’ll hate you for life.”
The way she moved had her pussy on full display. He felt his mouth fall open as he caught sight of her wet lips. She was swollen and so wet she glistened in the low light. His hands came out. He put his left hand on her hips, steadying her, while his right hand slid through her juices. He was fascinated by the way his hand looked against her soft, pink flesh. It was a gorgeous coral color, but the juice gave it a sheen he’d love to capture on a canvas. If she were his submissive, he’d order her to spread her legs so he could paint her. He would look at her pussy until he could get its perfection just right. Georgia O’Keeffe would have nothing on him. Jennifer’s pussy really was a flower opening up for him.
She sighed, her body relaxing as though she was finally getting some much-needed relief. “Yes, that’s much better than what Mildred did to me.”
He couldn’t help his chuckle. Her humor always brought him back to earth. Sometimes he lost himself, but she knew how to bring him back. It was good to know he pleased her more than some guard from the county lockup. He let a single finger circle her clit. “I take it Mildred wasn’t a skilled cavity searcher?”
Her hips swayed, inviting him in to play. “I’m sure she’s really good at finding any drugs I might have shoved up my hoo ha, but all in all, I didn’t care for the experience. She definitely wasn’t as good at spanking me.”
His hand came straight out. “She hit you?”
“I was joking,” Jennifer said quickly. “No one hit me, except you, and that was very erotic. I was neither sexually nor physically assaulted while in prison, as I told the good doctor. I’m fine. I’m of sound mind, and I would really like to have an orgasm.”
He slapped his hand across her ass for teasing him. He’d been horrified at the thought of her in a cage at the mercy of guards. It wasn’t something to joke about. “You didn’t let Caleb look you over. You simply walked out and didn’t even bother to leave a note telling me where you were going.”
Maybe he hadn’t spanked her enough. If they were at the guesthouse, he would tie her to the St. Andrew’s Cross and use a single tail on her.
“I was hungry,” she said, biting her lip, a sure sign that she was nervous. She would always nibble on that plump bottom lip when she was attempting to find the right thing to say. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll let you know when I’m fleeing from the somewhat insane doctor you sic on me. Now, let’s get to the good part. Come on, I can see that you want me.”
He was sure she could. His cock was standing at full attention. His slacks were pressed out as far as the wool would go. Still, he had standards to uphold. “You’re not supposed to be in control of this.”
But she was. He could see it. She’d herded him to this place. First, she’d left and sent him running around town to find her. Then, she’d waited in a bar, where it was inevitable she’d get hit on. This was what she wanted. She’d turned sweet and submissive because she’d changed tactics on how to get him to give her what she wanted. It worked so much better than the way she’d tried to deal with him before. She was much more dangerous this time around, and he’d thought she was fatal before.
Her face turned up, and all of the sauciness was gone now. “Please, Stef. Don’t think. Just for tonight. We can go right back to circling each other warily in the morning, but I need you tonight. I need you so much, babe.”
Her words sliced through him. She’d been through hell, and she’d smiled all day. Stef felt his heart seize. She needed him. He needed her. Damn it.
He got to his knees and did what he’d wanted to do for six months. He shoved his face into her pussy and surrounded himself with her. He buried his tongue in her pussy and let his senses fill. His mouth was full of her
tangy, sweet taste. His nose breathed in the scent of her arousal. His skin pressed to her softness. The connection he’d felt to her from the moment they met was fully open, and he gave in.
“Oh, yes, Stef, please.”
His ears took in the sounds of her growing need. She pressed against him. He pulled her open gently and lapped at every inch of her pussy. He ate her, not wanting to miss an inch of her delectable flesh. He fucked her with his tongue, pressing up into her cunt over and over. He showed her exactly how he wanted to fuck her. When he got his cock in, he’d show her no mercy. He stabbed at her with his tongue and then countered with long, luscious strokes until the cream poured out of her, honey across his tongue.
He had to press in to get his tongue to her clit, but he managed it. Her clit felt like it swelled against the tip of his tongue as he lapped at it. Every breath he took was filled with the smell of her arousal. A primal need ripped at his gut. This was what he’d been missing. This hot urgency that had little to do with lust and everything with need, it was what was missing from his previous sexual encounters. Those had been fun. Jennifer was more.
He began his journey from that pulsing little nub all the way back to her ass, where he kissed her pink cheeks as he pressed a finger deep inside her. He slid in easily. She was soaked with cream. It poured from her body, a gift to him.
“God, that feels so good,” she said on a low moan. He added a second finger and twisted up. He scissored them inside her, seeking that spot that would make her groan. “So good.”
It would feel even better once he got inside her.
“You haven’t had anyone since me.” He didn’t make it a question. He knew. She hadn’t made love with anyone. And neither had he. He couldn’t.
“No,” she replied, her hips pumping against his hand. “I don’t want anyone but you. I never have since the day I laid eyes on you.”
Sweet words. He felt the same, but he’d lived far more than she had. He had almost a decade on her to figure out that he wasn’t cut out for one woman.