As he spoke, his free hand rose slowly to her face. Molly saw its approach in her peripheral vision, her eyes moving to acknowledge it, and as his large fingers came to rest under her chin, he heard a small gasp escape her lips. Handling her with care, he used his thumb and forefinger to prop her chin up, forcing her face toward his gaze.
“Have you ever actually been spanked before, Molly?” he asked her. “Or is everything you pen just complete fiction?”
His voice had an edge to it, and he knew she heard it by the look in her eyes. He sounded almost betrayed by the notion that Molly’s stories could be only works of utter fiction, although, of course, he had known this could be the case.
“I have been spanked,” she told him in a shaky voice. “But only for fun, not as a real punishment, Sir.”
Connor nodded in acknowledgement, ignoring the desperate plea of his erection tucked inside his pants. “Okay,” he told her. “Then there’s a good chance that this is going to come as quite a shock to you, Molly. Are you ready?”
Before she even had time to respond, he spun them both around. Taking a seat on the bed where she had previously been sitting, he sent her bound body crashing down over his lap. Sprawled over him, Molly’s bound arms were now stretched forward over the bedding, and her exposed little behind rested perfectly over his right thigh. Connor’s eyes surveyed the sight of her restrained and helpless body, and he drew in a sharp breath.
Fuck, he thought, fighting to clear the heady fog of arousal which threatened to cloud his judgement. This is it. Time to spank Molly.
Chapter Eleven
Molly was down over his lap before she could even catch her breath, her ribs splayed over his left leg and her ass hopelessly vulnerable behind her. He was going to spank her. He had made no bones about it, telling her directly what her fate would be, and now it was actually going to happen. She gasped, flexing the fingers of her bound hands as the realization dawned on her. He was going to spank her, and worse, she had no idea which emotion was stronger on the subject, her fear or her arousal.
She was frightened, that was for sure, and she knew that she had good reason to be. This guy was a complete stranger – some sort of uber fan who’d turned stalker and planned this – her capture and containment. She shuddered reflexively as the reality washed over her like freezing water, panting again as she fought to stay in control of her erratic breathing. But being bound this way, and thrown unceremoniously over his lap, there was no doubt it was thrilling, and despite her terror, she could feel the moisture pooling between her thighs. The fact that he’d had the audacity to yank her panties down made the whole thing even more scintillating, but then, she suspected this man had the audacity to do rather a lot more than just that. She pushed that thought away, needing to concentrate on what lay ahead right now. The threat of the spanking had made her seriously hot, but how would she cope with the reality of one?
“You need this spanking, Molly.” The sound of his voice echoed around her, shaking her from her private monologue. “Why is that? Why do you deserve it?”
Molly eyed the pale bedding around her face. What did he expect her to say for God’s sake? That she was sorry for not using his self-appointed title? That was crazy, and yet she knew it was true. That was exactly what he expected.
She drew in a breath, trying to decide how to force the words out.
SMACK!
The weight of his palm crashed down against her exposed bottom, the act catching her off-guard, despite her position. “Ouch!” she shrieked, flailing over his lap as her body adjusted to the pain. “I’m sorry! I didn’t address you correctly, Sir, and I’m sorry!”
She’d barely concluded the admission when he spanked her again, but this time the strike was harder.
“That’s right, Molly,” his voice boomed from over her head, managing to cut through the sound of the strike which still seemed to be resonating through her head. “You didn’t address me correctly, and you took far too long to respond to my question. An error which will cost you an extra five swats in this punishment.”
Her mind reeled at that. Five more swats? He can’t be serious, surely?
Her silent questions were answered by his hand which landed against her bared behind again before she could fully process his last comments. He spanked her five times in fast succession, each swat landing in almost exactly the same spot as the one before, causing her ass to sting unbearably. Molly flinched at the pain, her head becoming heavier with each strike. This wasn’t the way she’d imagined punishment spankings when she’d written them. In her books, the heroine was always punished with a loving hand, knowing that her pleasure would be imminent if she only endured the penance. But Connor’s hands were not loving, and there were no guarantees of anything for her now. She didn’t even know when she’d be free again, let alone able to enjoy pleasure. A low sob caught in her throat as his hand moved against her punished ass again and again, and she buried her head into the bedding, grateful at least that she didn’t have to see his face during the ordeal.
The spanking continued over Connor’s lap, Molly’s behind now surely on fire as his palm connected with her ass again. Her bottom felt several times larger than it had before, and she wondered if and how she’d be able to sit once he’d finally finished. He spanked her again and this one felt hard, even in spite of all of the previous swats. The next strike was harder still, and she gasped, fighting to resist the urge to try and move from her place.
“Please,” she mumbled in desperation. “I’m sorry, Sir, but please. It hurts so damn much!”
It was a humiliating thing to admit, particularly in light of the position in which she found herself – upturned over a stranger’s lap for a bare-bottomed spanking – but she was past caring about that now. It did hurt, a lot, and she wasn’t sure how much more of it she could take.
“Hush,” came Connor’s reply. “I don’t need your opinion, Molly. You’ll be punished until I am satisfied, and if you can’t keep quiet then I’ll be forced to gag that pretty little mouth of yours again. Got it?”
His voice was as hard and unrelenting as his palm, and she knew in that moment that there was little point in further protest. Connor had all the power, and she really didn’t want to end up gagged during the ordeal as well as bound and humbled.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered into the bedding, uncertain if her voice would even carry to where he sat. “I’ve got it.”
“Good,” he replied, landing another hard smack to her no doubt reddening bottom. “And that’s the last time I want to hear you speak unless I ask you a question.”
She nodded as he spanked her again, his palm landing over and over. As the onslaught went on, she began to lose hope that she could survive this – whatever this was. Not the spanking. However consuming the immediate pain, she sensed she could get through it. She could draw on some sort of reserve within her and survive, but the whole ordeal of being held by this guy. If this spanking was the price for her first ridiculously minor transgression, then what would be next? Would he chain and whip her for not sitting correctly, or not answering correctly? And what would he do if he didn’t like what she wrote for him? Molly shuddered at the prospect as the strikes continued to rain over her. There was no doubt. She had to escape, just as soon as she could get away from him, but that wasn’t likely while she was bound, chained and exposed.
“You look so good like this, Molly,” he purred from over her.
His words stirred her, snapping her from the thoughts of escape, and filling her with fresh anxiety.
“You should see how gorgeous this arse is now it’s reddening under my palm. Fucking beautiful…”
Molly gulped at that, startled by his irritating British lilt, and unsure how she felt about his admission. Of course, she was disgusted. Appalled by the way he was treating her. He had no right to take her, to bind her, or to spank her, and they both knew it. But as the swats continued to land against her, that most curious thing began to happen. Instead of
registering the pain of each new strike, something else was transpiring inside her head. Now there was pleasure, too. Her mind acknowledged the motion of his palm, and perhaps even conveyed the impact, but it didn’t really hurt any more. Or maybe it did, she wasn’t sure, but if it did, then she welcomed the pain. She sought it. Yes, that was it. It did hurt, but now she liked it – she wanted it. It was the most bizarre realization.
Now when she pulled at the ropes at her wrists, and felt them cut into her flesh, she didn’t want to run from the sensation, she wanted more of it. She realized she was reveling in the ignominy of being bared to Connor. Yes, it was still humiliating, but now the humiliation was making her wetter than before. Wet, and hot, and ready.
As though he was somehow akin to her thought process, his palm paused, and she felt the foreign fingers as they grazed over her hot flesh. She tensed instinctively, knowing just how close those digits were to her very real arousal. What on earth would Connor think if he noticed? Would he assume that she wanted this treatment somehow, that she was giving some type of consent? The idea filled her with a new horror.
“Do you now understand what happens when you disobey me, Molly?” he asked in little more than a growl. She couldn’t tell if it was anger or lust laced in his tone, and equally she didn’t know how the prospect of either made her feel anymore. “What will happen when you disappoint me?”
Molly pulled in a long breath as best as she could still draped over his thighs. “Yes, Sir,” she mumbled. “I understand.”
“What will happen?” he questioned her. “Tell me.”
“You’ll spank me, Sir.” She exhaled in a rush as the reality hit her as hard as any one of his prior strikes.
The hand at her ass shifted, massaging the hot orbs of flesh roughly in a way it had no right to do so. Molly’s breath caught in her throat again as she struggled to process the myriad of sensation. Just as the ordeal had begun to become pleasurable, it had stopped, and now this? What was this? Did she like the feeling of Connor touching her in this most intimate way; did she welcome it?
“At the very least I’ll spank you,” he corrected her as his left hand moved down her back to join the right palm at her bottom. “But rest assured, I will punish you, and you won’t enjoy the experience. You belong to me now, Miss Clary. You’ll obey me, and you will write for me.”
There was a small whimper in response, a sound which escaped her lips without her permission. Molly hung her head. The shame which clouded her mind was as much a product of the way her body had reacted to his barbaric treatment of her, as it was his words. A thick mist of sensation loomed, threatening to numb her until all she could do was feel for him – feel pain, embarrassment, frustration and anger – but each as a result of Connor Reilly. She screwed her hands into small fists. Whatever transpired, whatever he did, she couldn’t let that happen. She had to continue to exist as more than just his thing.
Chapter Twelve
The spanking had gone well, better than he’d dared to hope. Connor had expected her to fight, resist and cry, but in reality, she’d been reasonably stoic, as though the thought of showing him how much he was hurting her made the indignation even worse. He narrowed his eyes at that, pondering the point. Was he disappointed that she hadn’t protested more? Had he hoped for a big show? He didn’t like the fact that she could be holding back, but as he pulled in a deep breath, he reminded himself of the facts – this was day one. There would be plenty of time to break down Molly Clary. What he needed to do was stay focused on the task at hand, oh and enjoy every facet of the experience.
“Get up now,” he commanded her, missing the warmth of her body as she shifted over him and slowly rose to stand.
Her hair hung in dank strands at her face, her eyes a little red and watery. The skin stretched over those high cheekbones was flushed with obvious embarrassment at having to stand in front of him with her clothes pooling at her thighs. The effect was satisfying. He wasn’t as satisfied as he hoped to become in the coming days, but for now, the look of the woman before him was pleasing enough.
“After you’re punished, you will apologise, young lady,” he told her with a deliberately clipped tone.
Molly shifted her weight awkwardly, her face flickering with emotion. Evidently, she was both enraged and embarrassed at the decision. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered, seemingly pushing the words out in one long breath.
Connor eyed her for a moment, allowing his gaze time to run the length of her body and really explore her. It stopped at the collection of fabric caught around her thighs, and he knew he was smirking as his eyes drew up slowly to the neatly shaved little pussy on display. He paused, lifting his left arm and drawing her ropes away so they wouldn’t obscure his view. The sight of her was utterly tantalizing, sending electricity straight to his already excited cock. He loved the look of her, and wondered just how good she was going to taste when he finally got to claim her. Then, just as his gaze was about to continue up to her toned midriff, Connor spotted something else. It wasn’t obvious, and for the longest time he wasn’t sure, but as he shifted his weight forward on the bed he could see it was true. Molly Clary was wet with arousal. The shaved flesh at her seam was glistening with what he could only imagine was desire. His eyes shot to her face, and he noticed how an even deeper blush engulfed her cheeks. So, she knew she was aroused then, and now she also knew that he had found her out…
For the longest moment, their eyes locked. Molly’s were filled with a peculiar mixture of what he assumed was fear, shame and arousal. He didn’t know what she saw in his, but the expression on her face told him it was probably lust.
“Did someone enjoy their punishment, Molly?” His tone was sardonic.
Her face fell, her humiliation seemingly complete – or so she thought.
“Molly?” He probed again, his tone still playful as she eyed him fearfully. “It looks as though that sweet pussy is rather wet, little lady, and I, for one, have not had the pleasure of touching it, so… I can only assume you enjoyed being over my knee. Tell me, is it true?”
She gulped, her face an absolute picture. She wanted to lie, that much was clear. Molly wanted to protest and tell him what a filthy pig he was for doing this, for spanking her, for claiming such foul untruths, yet how could she? Molly’s body betrayed her, and they both knew it.
“A little, Sir,” she admitted at length.
Connor rose before her, his height sending her backwards as far as the ropes at her wrists and the suit trousers at her thighs would allow. “That is unexpectedly good news, Molly,” he told her with a dark chuckle. “We are going to get on well, you and I…”
He allowed his voice to trail away on purpose, although his stare never left the bound woman before him. “Since you enjoyed your punishment, you may also thank me for delivering it, Molly.”
Her eyes found him again in a heartbeat, the look of indignation etched back into her pretty features. “Th-thank you?” she repeated, as though she hadn’t heard him the first time.
“Yes,” he replied, his tone lowering. “And don’t forget what you were punished for, young lady. I’m not sure that beautiful behind could handle another round right at this moment, however much your pussy might want it.”
Molly balked at that, her cheeks now a deep crimson. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she said at once. “And thank you.”
There was no feeling in the words, but she had said them. It was a start.
“Thank me for what, Molly?” he asked as his dark eyes penetrated her face.
She paused as she considered what he now required of her. “Thank you for spanking me, Sir.”
Connor smiled as his right hand rose to her chin, once more propping it up so she couldn’t avoid his eyes. “You are welcome, Molly,” he told her with a devastating smile. “Now you can conclude your punishment with some corner time, and then – when you’ve had time to think about your error – we can finally begin our story.”
Molly blinked at him as his words
began to reverberate through her, the color draining from her cheeks almost as fast as it had risen. “Corner time, Sir?”
His smile grew. “Yes,” he told her. “Shuffle over to that corner and stand there with that beautiful arse on display, and your hands on your head. That’s all you need to do…”
She looked close to tears, her eyes following his hand toward the corner of the room. “But…” she began as she turned back to face him.
“Now, Molly!” he barked, taking her bound wrists in his hands and directing her in the direction of the corner. “Go now, and do not even think about answering me back!”
She flinched at his tone, shrinking visibly at his last comment. Without another word she turned and he watched with smug satisfaction, and an aching groin, as she literally shuffled toward the place he had instructed. Her movement, hampered by the clothing caught at her thighs, made any greater movement impossible, and the chains at her ankles clinked wonderfully as she made her way there. Once in place she lifted her bound hands as ordered, facing the wall on shaky legs.
“Good girl.” He smirked as he watched her. “Now, don’t you move a muscle. I’m going to get your new laptop, but I’ll be back in a few moments.”
“Yes, Sir,” she breathed, her voice hoarse with her embarrassment.
Connor strode toward the door next to the corner where Molly was standing. As he approached it, he paused, turning once again to look at her trembling body. “Oh, and, Molly,” he said, his voice cooler. “Don’t even think about disobeying me, little lady. I will be watching you whilst I’m gone.”
Chapter Thirteen
Watching? She pulled in a shaky breath as he left the doorway, that irritating smirk still etched into his otherwise handsome features, and all the while his words haunted her.
I will be watching you…
Taken: (A Dark Romance Kidnap Thriller) (The Dark Necessities Trilogy Book 1) Page 5